Overcoming Ageism and Sexism

In the Democratic primary, like a kid in a candy shop, I was drawn to all the bright shiny stars like Cory Booker, Kamala Harris, Andrew Yang. As I watched Kamala struggle to get momentum, I turned to Elizabeth Warren. Despite the fact that she would be 70 years old when entering the white house, I affirmed two things: my own decade of the 70s had been highly productive and she knew how to get things done. I did not give Biden and Sanders the same benefit of the doubt.

Having been subjected to the “Father Knows Best” patriarchy all my life, the two people who did not interest me were Bernie Sanders and Joe Biden. What were these two ‘old fogies’ doing on the public stage? Because of age and sex, I equated them with the misfit currently abusing the office of President.

When none of my preferred candidates won enough delegates from the first primaries that skew white, older, and conservative, I was devastated. My enthusiasm shifted to “whatever it takes to remove Donald Trump.” I resigned myself to focusing on campaigns for Senate, House, Governorships, and flipping state legislatures to more open and futuristic power.

Thrilled with Democrats running really competitive campaigns, I kept making my donations and getting my postcards (Covid-19 form of canvassing) ready to go. The Sanders-Biden taskforce working to find common ground on key policies instilled a bit of enthusiasm and when Biden selected Kamala Harris as his running mate, the excitement I had at the beginning of the primary returned. Still, Joe was not receiving my donations.

What A Dead Tree Showed Me

 

 

Meanwhile, a strange phenomenon occurred in my front yard. A friend had given me the roots and branches of a ‘dead’ Sumac tree to make into a stick sculpture. The branches reminded me of an elk’s rack and the root ball could be his head. I came up with an idea for the sculpture but knew I would not get to it for several months. I tried finding a place for it behind my townhouse but none made sense or met my aesthetic needs. Moving it around to the front, I found a corner behind the Rhododendron where the branches were indeed a sculpture.

A few weeks later, as I was watering the front yard, I spotted something green behind the Rhodie. I peeked behind and saw several green shoots coming up from the roots of the dead tree. What!!! This Sumac is not dead? When I showed a neighbor, she suggested I put some soil beneath the roots but I didn’t want trees growing there so I left it alone. I contacted the former owner and she came and snipped a couple of green shoots from the roots.

Continuing to water and leave the Sumac alone, I marveled at the new life coming from an ostensibly dead tree. The roots were strong and evidently the tree just needed rest, privacy, and oxygen.

 

What Changed Me

Then came the national Democratic convention. For four nights I was glued to my computer screen watching it live stream. I have never been a Biden fan; perhaps because I didn’t find him intellectual enough for my taste. Or perhaps because he reminds me of sticking out like a sore thumb in my own fanatically non-intellectual blue-collar family. Night by night, I became aware of my sexist ageism as I learned of his reaching out to everyone, regardless of their political persuasion, a trait that we desperately need to bridge the divisions in our country.

When Bill Clinton contrasted the current president’s Blame/Bully/Belittle pattern of behavior with Biden’s BUILD BACK BETTER, I felt something inside me shift. I allowed myself to open to Joe’s other theme, fighting for the soul of the nation, a term used by Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. I had been hesitant to embrace it because it sounded ‘religious.’ I was more comfortable fighting for our democracy.

Over the course of the convention I came to recognize how Biden has quietly been binding Democrats together and how his courageous support for the Black Lives Matter movement continues a lifelong commitment to racial and gender equity. He is a master statesman tempered by personal family losses that have made him hugely empathetic. I realized that the excellent cancer care I now receive is very likely a result of his leading the Moonshot to find a cure for cancer.

Experience cannot be taken for granted. Like Warren, Biden knows how to get things done. At this time in our history, creating relationships may be more important than great oratory.  Like the Sumac, his roots just needed some oxygen to reveal his regenerative power to me. And that regenerative power is available to Gen X, Baby Boomers, Democrats, Republicans, Independents and anyone who is open to change.

 

 

Regal Asian Elephant

LiDoña Wagner Regal Asian Elephant inspired by the book Elephant Company.

A number of people asked to see the final version of my elephant stick sculpture, now titled Regal Asian Elephant. Since I shared earlier how I used oatmeal boxes for the feet and gold ribbon and bells for the saddle (known as a howdah), here I will focus on making the nostrils and attaching the ears.

LiDoña Wagner Regal Asian Elephant: Howdah, Tail and Feet

I punched holes in the sides of the paper mache boxes I'd made for the nostrils. To attach them to the stick I threaded twine through the holes and over the stick, adding two metal beads as I did so.

LiDoña Wagner Regal Asian Elephant: Nostrils Inside

To decorate the exterior of the nostrils, I used a strip of gold ribbon from the saddle to cover the twine knot. Tiny purple beads were strung on gold elastic thread; then the beaded strings were tied aound the stick.

LiDoña Wagner Regal Asian Elephant: Nostrils Outside.

It took some time to figure out how to attach the ears. I used bright yellow burlap ribbon to couple the two ears together, then glued dark purple decorative paper to the backs of the ears to hide the burlap ribbon. The ribbon had holes, so I threaded twine through the top of both ears and tied them together over the stick. Because the ribbon was not as wide as the ears, their ends bend outward.

LiDoña Wagner Regal Asian Elephant: Saddle and Ears

Voila! An imaginative person can fill in the body of the elephant between all of the decorations - tail to hump to feet to ears to trunk to nostrils - adorning this highly beloved African and Asian animal. Sorry, no ivory tusks because they have been stolen by despicable poachers. Please join in efforts to protect this endangered occupant of planet Earth.

Hope Over Fear

Front of black short sleeve women's comfy top.

Recently I was asked how I would compare my participation in the Civil Rights movement with what is happening today. I responded that the church was a major player in the freedom movement led by Reverend Martin Luther King, Jr. The movement then appeared to be a small cadre attempting to awaken a sleeping giant. Today’s movement is secular and massive. It is all ages and all ethnicities getting behind the Black Lives Matter banner. It is the majority trying to educate a minority trapped in useless and dangerous ideologies who have managed to take power of our government.

Awakened to civil rights issues as a student at the University of Texas in Austin, after graduation I moved to Chicago where the real action seemed to be. Teaching at Englewood High School on Chicago’s southside, all of my students were Black. They were bright and sassy and introduced me to humor, jive and rhythmic movements such as I had not experienced in my blue-collar upbringing.

One day a couple of months into teaching, I walked into the restroom and happened to glance in the mirror. I was shocked to see a white face staring back at me. I had never really thought in terms of skin color and had never considered how my Black students saw me. This was the beginning of a decades long journey of breaking my white privilege hypnosis.

The flag at the left is accompanied by a Vets for Trump sign on my neighbor's door.

That summer I went to Africa to investigate methods used by independence movements, hoping to instill these in our own civil rights efforts in the United States. Beyond marching in Selma, my primary participation in the freedom movement was by helping to develop an integrated caring community on Chicago’s west side. My colleagues and I were unquestionably naïve do gooders, nevertheless, over time we won the trust of our Black neighbors who created a nationally recognized preschool, trained to become more employable, bought homes, sent their children to college, and developed locally owned businesses.

I am using the door of my townhouse's front storage unit to share my values.

It would take a year in Australia learning of genocide of Aboriginal Australians, three years in the Philippines and Singapore uncovering American colonialism, a year of radical insecurity while initiating community development projects in Indonesia, Egypt, Zambia, Nigeria, Hong Kong, Malaysia, Taiwan, and Japan and two years of culture shock in India to finally break my white privilege hypnosis. Knowing what it took to wake me up, I am in awe of and grateful for the awakened young people of today who are protesting for the equal rights of Black, indigenous, and people of color (BIPOC).

We can not have political yard signs, but I can take a stand on my front door.

I want to lift up the people of Portland, Oregon for their response to the new crisis imposed by our illegitimate president. MOMS dressed in white or yellow link arms and create a wall between peaceful protesters and the unconstitutional assault of illegal militia. They are now being joined by DADS with leaf blowers.

Portland is setting a creative style of defense that other citizens can follow when this atrocity occurs in their cities. Already Chicago has a MOMS group of over 3000 who are learning from Black moms who had already been making similar defense for their children. Creative Oregonians are choosing Hope over fear and Courage over cynicism.

Back of black short sleeve women's comfy top.

During the primary I designed a black short sleeve women's tee shirt for stylistically encouraging participation in democracy. Inspired by the stage play Hamilton, it has a white musically themed asymmetrical VOTE on back left shoulder and HOPE in front left pocket area. Please help my collaborator Katherine Getta keep her graphics business going during the pandemic by treating yourself or a friend to one of these attractive screen-printed tees. At her etsy site, scroll down to the tees.

$24 with first class free shipping at banyantreeclothing.etsy.com

Sky, Mountain, Forest

 

How many fish can you find in this crayon piece called Finding Nemo?

Clear blue sky in Wuhan and snowy Himalayan mountain tops have been seen for the first time in decades. Hopefully these lockdown experiences have awakened millions of us to the beauty and wonder of a world without coal and petroleum. Along with wealth, the industrial revolution brought destruction to the planet that sustains us. Stopping the world of industrial work to deal with the coronavirus pandemic could be a portal that opens us to a new realization that humanity has long been a pandemic for many of earth’s living beings and they are fighting back.

During a recent Re-Imagine the Future zoom workshop with Amrita Bhohi, she gave us six minutes to write stories of the new reality we are experiencing. Here is my story.

Once upon a time the whole of humanity forged a new relationship with each other and the earth. A new social contract was forged in simple, profound phrases such as Stay home. Save lives and Flatten the curve. A simple mask became a symbol of that contract, I wear my mask to protect you. You wear your mask to protect me. Genuine leaders spoke truth to power and those who recognized grief and suffering formed new coalitions to support one another and the people to whom they were responsible. 

A young man from Ireland's story was a recent dream he had. I found it prophetic.

An old woman with a tall walking stick beckoned me to come with her behind an old shed. When I did, I was startled and frightened by finding a large bull with enormous horns. The old woman told me not to be afraid; the bull was in service to her and would not harm me. Beyond the land where we stood was an infinite virgin forest. The old woman said that she and the bull were responsible to care for trees and animals there. If I were inclined, I could join them in this life-giving responsibility.

To me, the bull represents the aggressive masculine energy that has driven the industrial era. The shed could be the current social order that we need to 'shed'. Forest is a place of continuous cycles of life, death, and regeneration. Old woman seems to be hearkening him/us back to the bond with nature that was forged during the hunter/gatherer and agricultural periods of human history, before obsession with minerals and ores took hold. The walking stick signifies that only when we walk again – foot to earth – will we be in sync with that which sustains us. 

We saw planet Earth from outer space over fifty years ago but humanity, and particularly those of us in western industrialized countries, was not ready then to embrace a new understanding of our role as a partner, not a conqueror, with all living beings on this marvelous blue marble. 

In this time of radical precariousness, we stand on a threshold into a new society. Kahlil Gibran describes it well.

It is said that before entering the sea, a river trembles with fear. She looks back at the path she has traveled, from the peaks of the mountains, the long winding road crossing forests and villages. And in front of her, she sees an ocean so vast, that to enter there seems nothing more than to disappear forever. But there is no other way. The river cannot go back. Nobody can go back. To go back is impossible in existence. The river needs to take the risk of entering the ocean, because only then will fear disappear, because that's where the river will know -- it's not about disappearing into the ocean, but of becoming the ocean.

Let us enter the portal and bring with us all of the vulnerable and downtrodden, truly the salt of the earth.  

An Elephant in My Closet

For the past two years I have done little art-making. First came the distraction of writing SEED OF IMAGINATION, An Ancestral Creative Journey followed by prepping for and doing the inaugural exhibition of Celebrating Our Maiden Migrations. Publishing SEED took more time than anticipated, as did promotion for a Eugene book release event and editing a video narration of Maiden Migrations. (Check out Celebrating Our Maiden Migrations on You Tube.)

Trying to get back to making art prompted a series of false starts: a class in Gelli printmaking and chasing screwball ideas like designing tee shirts and creating a deck of oracle cards based on our ancestral journey. But the magic of getting back to my deep creative work on human migration didn't happen until I cleaned the studio closet.

CLOSET MAGIC

Poking among closet shelves, I came across the four 'feet' of a Joyous Elephant stick sculpture I had begun in March 2019 with the help of my friend Kathleen. Following my instruction she had painted oatmeal boxes, added toes and soles, but was hesitant to do the spirals I wanted on their tops. Knowing exactly what the next step on the feet was, I also pulled out ribbon and bells procured for the elephant's 'saddle' and an ear I had made while she painted the stick.

I haven't decided which color stone works better on the feet.

In progress - sewing bells to saddle ribbons.

Trying to decide what to have on ear backs.

A DYSFUNCTIONAL MESS

The elephant stick was the last piece I was working on before getting totally sidetracked. Working on it reminded me of four boards I had begun over two years previously for migration into the Mediterranean region. Pulling them from under a table, I realized they needed to hang on a wall in order to work with them as a whole. 

I vaguely remembered deciding the region was to be anchored by three Mediterranean goddess tiles I had painted around 1999. My choice for a work wall required moving a painting from there to the bedroom, getting tiles from the downstairs bathroom, and ... chaos ensued. 

The studio was a dysfunctional mess. Projects were everywhere: elephant feet/saddle/ear, Mediterranean boards, tee shirts, oracle card resources, workshop ides, current dream mandala, etc. Working on one required shifting everything. Moreover, where was the Mediterranean sketchbook I began way back whenever? Dang! Either organize all these projects or perish in the confusion.

A few Migrations paintings serve to bring creative energy back into my work space.

Oracle cards, workshop ideas, tee shirts, Goddess and Mediterranean research.

In progress Dream Mandala found a space on top of paint cubicles.

Mediterranean Work Commences

Mediterranean complex, elephant corner, window and table work spaces.

Oops. After attaching hanging wires to the Mediterranean boards, I put them on the wall only to discover the spacing was wrong and two of the boards were upside down. To sort this out, I needed my maps and tracings. Where are they? And where is my original sketch?

Another plunge into the closet and sorting through all my paper rolls produced desired maps and tracings, resulting in even greater irritation about misplacing my Mediterranean sketchbook. I started a new one.

Upside down and poorly spaced boards.

While preparing for an interview to promote the book release event I pulled out my Assisi artist residency sketchbook. Voila! The Mediterranean! After returning from Spain in 2017, I had decided to use the voluminous Italy sketchbook for the region I researched in 2014. Of course!

Inside was the sketch I remembered making. Goddesses and Mediterranean Sea were to be dominant features. Paraphernalia collected in the sketchbook brought memories of traveling in Italy, especially Sicily, to the surface of my brain. Pieces scattered over years of ups and downs started to come together. An interminable prelude was ending - finally - a beginning.

The Mediterranean configuration and reference materials started talking to me, but not loudly enough. I got distracted by signing up for a two-week short story writing challenge, the result of which was rediscovering that I am not a fiction writer. Back to the studio where I belong! 

Spacing may still not be right, but it's better. Maps are for reference only.

Although it's true that some things have to incubate for a long time, not knowing what to do can also be a factor in continually putting something on the back burner. One reason it took so long to get back to a project begun six years earlier was because it would require relearning basic painting skills: mixing paints, choosing brushes, making mistakes. I was avoiding the embarrassment of beginner's mind.

Enter one of my cardinal rules, "Start with what you know." If the sea is to be the focus, then start by putting in its boundaries. In the process of doing that first step, a color pallet has begun to emerge. Ideas for textural materials are bubbling up.

My love affair with Mediterranean culture has deep roots. In addition to five years living in Europe and studying ancient goddesses in the 1990s, the Mediterranean was traversed extensively by my paternal ancestors and to a lesser degree by my maternal progenitors.

It took an elephant in my closet to bring me home to a life work.

Crossing the Sea of Life

The mandala classes I teach are based on the structure of Tibetan Buddhist mandalas: Fire Ring, Transition, Narrative Cycle, Sea of Life, Four Portals, Inner Garden & Self, and Final Rim.  In our Dream Mandalas the Narrative Cycle is a series of dreams that take us into the realm of spirit. Our mandalas represent our unique personal mythologies.

Structurally, this year's class has reached the Sea of Life. It is interesting that when Homo Sapiens first left Africa, they crossed the southern tip of the Red Sea at the Gate of Tears, so named for the horde of humans who had drowned in it during the earthquake that separated Africa from Eurasia. Likewise, when Moses led his people into freedom they crossed the Red Sea. It is also noteworthy that mammalian life emerged from the sea.

When we paint our mandala's Sea of Life, we begin by meditating on our personal experiences with water, such as seas and oceans and lakes and rivers, even rain and snow. If possible we sit beside a body of water to do our meditation. Below are some examples of the variety of forms this art can take.

Sea of Life Examples from Celestial Gallery by Romio Shrestha 

Amitayus: The Buddha of Boundless Life, p. 39

Chakrasamvara: Golden Energy, p. 27

Mandala of Padmapani: Savior of Great Compassion, Frontspiece

Wagner Sea of Life Examples

1997 Heroine's Journey, begun while living in Victoria, B.C.
Brown Sea of Life was painted after leaving the Pacific Ocean.

1998 Dream Mandala. 
Turquoise Sea of Life painted during daughter's illness.

2016 Dream Mandala, Shades of blue, green and gold Sea of Life
painted after research travel in Mediterranean region.

Evolution of Mandala Sea of Life

As with each part of the mandala, after meditating, we begin the Sea of Life by laying in a base color that came to us in our meditation. Then we doodle in our journal sketchbook to find the form that wants to be in the Sea of Life. Below is the evolution my own Sea of Life underwent in my 2017-8 Dream Mandala.

2018 First take on Sea of Life

2018 Second take on Sea of Life

LiDoña Wagner Dream Mandala 2018
Final form of Sea of Life

Student Mandalas - Sea of Life

Patricia Rounds 2016, Dream Mandala 
Notice how her Sea of Life frames the four portals.

Hope Lewis, Dream Mandala 2018, Sea of Life

Janet Asman 2018, Dream Mandala

Janet made a lovely slide show showing the painting of her mandala from beginning to end. In my September 26, 2018 blog you can view the laying in of the base color for her Sea of Life, her first form, and her refinements.

TAKING STOCK OF OUR LIFE

Beginning Reflection

Looking Within

In this era of social distancing we can find solace and new direction in connecting with our inner selves. One way to begin is to take a look at the most recent period of your life. Since recording this inventory will help your neurological function and aid your introspection, get a pencil and paper, or a journal if you have one, and write the date of your Taking Stock entry at the top of a page.

Begin in a meditative atmosphere, by closing your eyes and feeling the flow of your life over the past few weeks, months, or even years. Take your time. There's no need to rush. Welcome tears, anger, or anxiety if they come up. After considering the inner movement of this most recent time, give this latest chapter in your life a title. 

Title:

You may want to add notes about when you sense the period began, characteristics it embodied, and any intuitions or sensations that arose during your reflection. 

Look closely and you'll see that my cactus is bursting with new life.

Diving Into The Details

Self-Concept/Identity

What has been my self-image during this time period? In other words, how have I experienced the ‘me’ in myself? Have I had a particular identity? Am I clinging to it now or ready to let it go?

Physical Experience

How has my body been during this time? Have there been health challenges or illness, bodily or psychological changes? What about physical engagement in athletics or sexuality? Have I over-indulged or allowed addictions to take hold? How have I experienced nature?

Events

Have strange, uncanny, striking, dramatic, or coincidental events occurred? Have I sensed that any historic or artistic events have special meaning for me? Has a significant event shaped or even changed the direction of my life?

I love how my winter Hellebore is blooming alongside a Dandelion announcing spring . 

Meaningful Engagement

What projects have had an inner meaning for me? Why and how? Did I encounter hopes, plans, difficulties, challenges? Was I successful or did I experience dissatisfaction or failure? 

Persons/Society

What relationships with individuals have been important? What social groups have been significant? Why? How have I been engaged in social or political issues?

Decisions/Guidance

What significant decisions did I make? Or did I not make? Did I or am I now facing a crossroads in life? Has a mentor or wise teacher influenced me in any way?

Inner Life

Have I had a sense of connection to or disconnection from the wider universe? Have I had memorable or recurring dreams, an uncanny encounter, a synchronistic experience? Have I felt blessed or cursed? Did I have a stroke of good luck or a streak of bad fortune?

My about-to-pop-open tulips are welcomed by some volunteer bluebells.

Reflection

Listening within, close your eyes, relax, and open all of your senses. Allow an image, smell, or physical sensation to present itself. Record these spontaneous images and sensations.

Sentence Completion 

My life in this period has been like …

It’s as if …

This makes me want to …

Above the rooftop you can see the aura of a maple tree's buds.

Take the next few minutes slowly. Perhaps walk around a bit or refresh yourself in nature before picking up the threads of everyday life.