March 8 2014: VSA Day of Arts For All

                                         Janine Moore's "Orange Groves", 1st Place Emerging Artist

                                                     Henry Hess’s “No Place Like Home”

               (Spartan meets Pyramid Head” by Jonah Farmer.)

If you follow my blog, you know I usually go to The Day of Arts for All on March 8, to report on it. But this year, I was even in it! My piece was called “Pig Head”, which used bright colors and saturation to illustrate a pig head via digital art. Aside from art, there was also some music by Sarah Bellish, a young soloist who uses her experience with disability to write music. A great opportunity to listen to some of the great life experience disability brings, in a soulful way! There were also videos meant to illustrate the experience of disability. The theme of the day seemed  to be representing these perceptive  personal experiences.

 Then the awards came. All who participated got an award. Including me! All the pieces were great, but the two I liked best were Henry Hess’s “No Place Like Home”, showing Dorothy’s ruby slippers, which won third place in the Youth Artist category. 2nd Place in the same category went to a Halo/Silent Hill inspired piece! “Spartan meets Pyramid Head” by Jonah Farmer. 1st place in the same category went to Nathaniel Curtiss of Worthington for Where Miles Davis Recorded The Birth of Cool! A super cool use of perspective! Best in Show was called: “Beautiful Nature Life: Where Everyone Would Like to Be”, a mixed media piece by the team of Wendi Olszewski, Shawnda Osswald, and Stephanie Spencer, depicting a brightly colored rural life.

But, everyone wins in my book, because we all told our stories through art: “Why the pig head?” Someone asked me in front of my piece. “Why not?” I said. The point for me is just to create something that didn’t exist before. The image that jumped out at me in the framework of my color scheme was a pig head. I’m interested in seeing how my mind and experience as a disabled person translates to my creations, as each
artist did through their own perspective. By his/her own experience.

Going back to perspectives, the films Be My Brother is an Australian short film about a man with Down Syndrome who records everything he observes, but he cannot get his brother to record something on the bench with him. He displays a dazzling intelligence, quoting everything from Shakespeare to The Lion King, and even charms a woman who he describes as the “most attractive woman in the world”. The film ends on a bus, with his brother hugging him.    

Sensory Overload is a film from the perspective of an autistic. As such, there is intermittent sound, and sometimes it becomes increasing overwhelming. From the blaring of city sirens to a cashier tapping a pen in a café. Wild colors add to the disorientation, and autistic perspective. The film ends in silence as a woman helps the boy pick up papers he lost from his backpack.

We ended with a comedy called Jazz Hand. In this a Californian woman with a prosthetic hand enters a dance audition. While tap dancing, her hand falls off and the choreographer recoils in exaggerated disgust. She puts her hand back on! But backwards! Lots of big laughs from this one, and nice to see a “disability movie” that is a comedy. “Do you think he noticed?” Asks the dancer. Duh! Yes!

I’m pleased to have been a part of The Day of Arts for all. It was a fun time, and I got to get my art out and look and other people’s art! That’s always a good day for me when I can get positive messages about disability! We are all capable of becoming more than we appear to be. Thanks, VSA! I had a great time.

For a full list of Day of Arts for All winners visit VSA's website: www.vsao.org

                                                     ("Pig Head" by Chris Bowsman.)

                               

Planet of Snail (2012)

PLANET OF SNAIL (2012)

 Young-Chan Cho: “All the deaf and blind people have the heart of an astronaut.”

Planet of Snail is a documentary from South Korea. It is very slow-paced and plays with minimal sound to simulate Young-Chan reliance on tactile communication and finger taps as opposed to always using voice. His voice, one might say is the lack of sound. The story follows him along with his wife Soon-Ho. Soon-Ho has a disability caused by degeneration of the spine.

Together the film explores their mutual dependency and quiet, slow lives. The reference to Young-Chan Cho as an astronaut in the Planet of Snail is interesting because I too consider myself an alien. Some things that an able-bodied person can do very easily, I can’t. But, I think from that I gained a desire to explain my worldview. For Young-Chan Cho, it’s the same. On one hand, he talks about his disability as no different than fading memory for a sighted person. When you remember something with sight, it’s never as clear as it was when you saw it the first time. A very insightful critique of sightedness!

    On the other hand, Young-Chan’s poetry reveals a deep understanding of how his life is alien. “What I see in front of me is my reality.” He says. “I am deaf-blind even in my dreams.” In spite of this determination, he encounters obstacles very early on in the film. While taking a Hebrew exam, Young-Chan’s professor says that he had the words in the right order, but his assistant transcribed it wrong. That is, his wife, not his assistant. But, he gets an A+!

    Later in the film, we see Young-Chan eating with friends, who look as though they may be deaf-blind as well. They get into an argument about why he married, and the other friend believes he may never marry. Much of this argument is done through tactile communication and finger tapping. I don’t know Korean sign language, and only understand little bits of American Sign Language, but the finger tapping to me seemed vital to understanding the language. Young-Chan’s friend believes he married Soon-Ho to be a live-in caretaker, which Young-Chan Cho denies, but seems shaken by.

   Through his friend, we see his clay crafts, including a mug shaped like a naked man. Young-Chan explains that he didn’t like that one very much. Soon-Ho says that sometimes he takes care of her, because sometimes her pain is so bad that she can’t even pick up the phone. “I couldn’t even say hello. I could only make screeching sounds.” She says. Nonetheless, we see Soon-Ho helping Young-Chan around the house more often than vice versa: Fixing a light, helping with food, walking on the beach, even helping to organize Cho’s play with his friends.

     The film ends with a solo trip to a doctor's appointment, where he admits he was scared to be without his companion. “I felt colder.” He says.  Then, Young-Chan Cho goes swimming, where he says he can open his eyes and see a different world. (As opposed to The Planet of Snail.) In closing, he says he's only waiting to see the most precious things. He and I have much in common. We are both astronauts; we both use words to paint our lived experiences with disability; we have many of the same fears. What will happen to me when my friends and caretakers are gone? The film explores these fears, which at times seem to contradict his coping mechanisms…art and poetry which transcends his body.

    The film is very slow-paced, but there was enough going on that intrigued me that I never lost interest. I love movies about disability experiences, other planets, and other cultures and ways of life. I identified with the main character; but only insofar as he uses art to overcome his disability, such as I try to do. The rest was new to me: The finger tapping, Young-Chan Cho’s beautiful descriptions of his disability in poetry, having a partner vs. having friends, and negotiating each other’s disability. These were all wonderfully new to me. The slow pace also helped me drink in Young-Chan's world.

     I found Planet of Snail to be a fun, dramatic and captivating experience… it is not  just internationally appealing to me, being a Korean film, but it is interculturally appealing too. I mean, I related my experiences with disability with Young-Chan They didn’t always match up. For example, in my dreams, I'm able-bodied, though it by no means is a reflection of de-valuing my life with a disability...I can simply do more in my dreams. Also, Young-Chan says sometimes he knows he’s being stared at. I would tend not to focus on it…nonetheless, I do know it probably is happening.

Anyway, this is a great film that explores many themes about disability and relationships, and the role of art as a tool for life. Highly recommended…I’d say 4/5 stars: the slow pace might be off-putting to some, but in my case, it helped me catch details like the finger tapping as communication. A wonderful film! Go see it!

My Left Foot: The Story of Christy Brown (1989)

My Left Foot: The Story of Christy Brown (1989)

Christy Brown: I need a light.

Mary Carr: Don’t go thinking I’m your mother now, just ‘cause I’m takin’ care of ya.

Christy Brown: I don’t need a [expletive] psychology lesson. Just get me a [expletive] light.

    I’ve gotten several requests to review this film, and I wasn’t disappointed! My Left Foot: The Story of Christy Brown is the story of the Irish painter Christy Brown, who has CP (Cerebral palsy.) It covers from his birth in a crowded Irish family to the opening of his own exhibition. As someone who has a more moderate form of CP (Christy grabs everything with his left foot. I also don’t have Christy’s speech problems as severely.) I really have to give credit to Daniel Day Lewis’s method acting. I can almost feel his muscle twitches, spasms, and the battle he must’ve had to create within himself to perform the role.

    Daniel Day Lewis plays Christy Brown as a man who is held together by his sheer will to survive.  Early on, when his mother has a heart attack Christy drops down from the bed where he was placed by his mom, scrapes his way down the stairs and bangs on the door with his left foot. This tenacity endures all throughout the film, into his later adult life, when he’s played by Daniel Day Lewis. Even though throughout his childhood he’s called a dunce and a burden by adults. Surprisingly, like me, he gets along well with able-bodied children, enjoys football, and even for a time rides in a cart for lack of a wheelchair until his 18th birthday.
   
Obviously, as a person with CP myself, I identified with much in this film. I never took speech therapy, but little things like Christy’s artistic impulses I deeply identified with, as well as his search for intimacy. I suppose sometimes I’m even difficult to understand due to my slight tongue thrust. I suppose what I’m getting at is I don’t agree with the idea that able-bodied actors shouldn’t play disabled characters. If I can’t tell the difference, I don’t see how anyone else could.

    Indeed, one of the things I really like about this movie is that it’s not played for sympathy. From the moment he grabs a piece of chalk in his left foot as a child, Christy displays a stubbornness that allows him to overcome his disability as well as  display a deep intelligence behind the stubbornness. Later, he enters speech therapy (At first, so that he can impress his good-looking therapist…) but they fall out when…in a powerful scene…she announces she’s  getting married. He doesn’t handle this well.

    You see, Christy Brown seems to have inherited his father’s love of drink as a coping mechanism, and does not take this very lightly. While they were supposed to be celebrating opening his exhibition, Christy instead launches a tirade against platonic love. The only love he’s ever gotten. Also, his family tries to build him a new art studio, in the hopes that he’ll become motivated to paint again and come out of his depression. Which ultimately culminates in a bar fight, and of course the opening of the exhibition where he meets Mary, who we are later informed Christy married in 1972.

     Daniel Day Lewis’s portrayal of the adult Christy really makes this a good “disability” movie. Christy always aims to prove people wrong about his limits, even if it is to spite them. He first tells his therapist to “[expletive] off!” but she tells him that with therapy he could learn to say it more clearly. But, I think also, his rhetoric and art reveal a deep striving and human understanding which lie beneath his stubbornness. Christy always had to prove people wrong…he also strove to connect with them…though not always successfully.

    Overall, it’s a great film. It is inspiring, but not in a way that inspires pity…which is what I suspect is what most people mean when nowadays people say “I’m not here to inspire you.” in connection with the disability rights movement. Of course, I’m here to inspire people. I’m just not here to be pitied. We as humans must continually strive to inspire ourselves to keep living; to make life meaningful. Which is I think what Christy Brown does in this movie…both with his painting, and continual self-improvement.

I mean, he learns to crawl with his foot, then to grab things, then to speak…this is a story of continual overcoming, but a realistic one…full of rejection and hope deferred. 5/5 stars from me! I fully support able-bodied actors playing disabled characters! (And think the modern controversy…is to be blunt…ridiculous.)  I don’t think you could’ve gotten a better Christy Brown. I think all disability advocates should see this! Or if you just like great movies!

     

SHORT STORY: TED'S SECRET (19TH ANNIVERSARY)

When I was in 2nd grade, I used to write "books" on an electronic typewriter of usually 1-5 pages, each one or two lines, and bound with stapled construction paper. I loved to write these. One such story was Ted's Secret. Written in February of 1994, it was the first story I ever wrote that was an attempt at an epic adventure story.

Looking back on it, I was amazed because it incorporated epic themes, and played off of Nintendo games, computer games, and cartoons...where I would've gotten stories at the time. It even had a coherent moral: That you can ask for people to help, but never trust blindly. It's only drawback was the 2nd grade grammar I used at the time.

Previous morals for these "books" included: "And that's why you never ask what pancakes are being made!" (On second thought, that could've been me being silly!) and "That's why there is a rainbow at the end of the rainbow." (That was definitely a mistake.) But, this one ended with "And Ted went home happily." (But, I forgot to mention about half the story until now.) Ending aside, it was my first coherent epic!

On the 19th anniversary of this little "book" which encapsulates my early love of adventure stories, cartoons, and videogames...particularly Legend of Zelda! I decided to edit it, expand it, and change the grammar to make it more accessible to others. But, I still wanted young children to be able to read it, and maybe better understand the moral. So, I kept it simple. If alien anthropologists discover my body thousands of years from now, I'd want them to discover Ted's Secret on me. It is one of the best I've ever written.

Without further ado, Through Alien Eyes presents: Ted's Secret!

Ted’s Secret:

  One day, a man, Ted went hunting. “Eh?” He asked as he opened his secret chest. My secret isn’t where I put it! Maybe someone knows where it is.” He couldn’t hunt without it, so he went to the church to see if the nun could help.

"No, I'm sorry, but I cannot help you." said the nun. "But, my brother, the hermit collects such things. Perhaps he can help you. He lives in the Hills of High Fire." The nun bowed, leaving Ted.

So, Ted climbed to the Hills of High Fire, where flame surrounded the hermit. "Beg your pardon, sir. Are you the nun's brother?" asked Ted.
"Why yes! I am." said the squinty eyed old man, peaking through the fiery walls. "And what would you be seeking?"

"I'm looking for my secret." Ted explained. "The nun said you might collect such things."
"Why, yes, I might have that in my collection." The snaggle-toothed crone stepped out from the fire, and said. "Can you tell me what it looks like?"

Ted thought for a while, and whispered to the old man. “It is a treasure of unimaginable wealth. It took me sixty-one weeks to find it.”

“Ah!” said the hermit, digging around in his hovel. “A treasure, big with lamps and rubies on it!” cackled the nun’s brother.
    Ted shot the old man a look. “Do you have it, old hermit?” Ted wondered how the nun’s brother could be so crazy.

“No, I don’t have anything like that!” shouted the hermit. “But, maybe the willows have such things as you seek, adventurer. Beware, the willows can be nasty, and will throw apples at you.”

“Then, give me what I need to go see the willows!” Ted protested.

The ancient hermit coughed and wheezed in insane laughter. “Here is a shield to block the apples. And a gas mask. The Willow Woods are smelly.” He smiled toothlessly, and handed Ted the things. “Now, leave me be! I have to call the firefighters!” Hermits collect such strange things! Ted thought, and put on the gas mask, bidding his friend good-bye.

Away Ted went to the Willow Woods. The tall dark trees made him look small. They hunched down to speak with hideous, crooked faces.

“Who are you, little man?” They demanded.

“I’m Ted, the hunter.” said Ted. “And I seek my secret that I lost this morning!” Yelled Ted back at the willows.

“Go away, we don’t have it!” Said the willows altogether, and threw apples with their hand-like branches.
   “Amazing!” Thought Ted, blocking the apples. “A forest that attacks travelers! What are you, knaves?”
     Suddenly, those trees sobbed and said, “You may pass! We are only slaves to the warlock in the Grey Tower.”

“Amazing!” said Ted. “Does the warlock know where my secret is?”

“A warlock knows many things.” said the eldest willow. “And if he did have a secret, he would keep it to
himself. Yes! He could have it, and if you face him, we could finally be a peaceful forest! Go, Ted!” The
trees cracked woody smiles, and made a road.

And Ted went down the road happily. Then, he went to the warlock’s tower, and knocked on the big door.
“Who are you?” asked the warlock.
“I’m Ted, and I came from the forest looking for my secret!” Exclaimed Ted to the warlock.
“Come in.” said the warlock. “I have many secrets.”
“Have you seen mine?” asked Ted.
“You defeated the willows. You must be a warlock too. Is it magic?” said the warlock
 “No,” said Ted. “It’s a treasure of unimaginable wealth. It took me sixty-one weeks to find it.”
 “Ah!” said the warlock. “Yes! I have magical treasures. What will you give me for it?”
  Ted showed him the shield and gas mask.

 “Wow!” shouted the warlock. “I have never seen things like that. Now, I will show you my mirror.” Then, Ted went to the mirror room, and saw himself in it.
  He looked weird and strange. The mirror was shiny, but didn’t look like a treasure.
“Aha! A trick, old man!” Yelled Ted.
“It’s no trick, the mirror shows the truth.” said the warlock. “It knows where the secret is!”
“Where?” asked Ted, “But it only shows me, and I emptied my pockets!”
“Ah, look inside!” said the warlock. So, Ted jumped inside the mirror. The sky was green and the grass outside was blue and sunny. Of course, Ted thought. In the mirror world, it’s the opposite! He will find the secret instead of losing it! So, Ted went back to hunting, and remembered the secret.
 On a white cliff, near a green lake, Ted  found a chest. Ted opened the lock, but right there was a girl who snatched it away.

“There it is!” she said. “I found it!”
“Hey!” said Ted. “That’s my secret! Who are you?”
“I’m Theodora, the huntress.” She said. She looked just like him.
“Of course!” said Ted, “If I’m here, and I remember, then you forgot it.”
“It’s mine now!” said the girl.
“Yes, but you’re just a mirror illusion.” said Ted. “I’m going to leave now, and believe that I still have it.” And Ted walked out of the mirror with the secret chest, that he didn’t have before he entered.

“Amazing!” said Ted to the warlock. “I’ll go home now.”
“No! I’m a warlock! I keep all the world’s secrets!” said the warlock.
“Why, yes, you do.” said Ted. “But, only if you teach me your magic.”
“How dare you!” Yelled the warlock who raised his wand. But, Ted blocked it with the secret chest. The warlock sobbed. He was turned into a frog. “Okay, I’ll teach you my magic. Just turn me back.”  And the wizard taught him all his magic, and Ted flew back to his house and put down the big chest. “What an adventure!” said Ted.
A little while later, Ted passed by a wandering merchant.
“Would you like to sell your secret?” asked the merchant.
  “No.” said Ted, and smiled. “This secret is mine, and it has gotten me all the magic and collections of the land.”

“What is it worth to you?” asked the salesman.
“Everything.” said Ted. “It took me sixty-one weeks to find, and the nun couldn’t help me get it back. I freed the willows, and learned magic to get it back.”
“What about some gold?” The man asked.
Ted nodded finally. “I can use gold. You can have the chest, but not the secret.” Ted took the gold, and the merchant laughed.
“Deal!” But, he looked inside for the secret and saw nothing.
And Ted went home happily, with his secret inside his head.

DISABILITY IN THE MOVIES: A REVIEW OF OZ THE GREAT AND POWERFUL

OZ THE GREAT AND POWERFUL:

Oz: "I might not actually be a wizard..."

Glinda: "Yes, but they don't know that."

Oscar Diggs is a bombastic carnival magician in 1905 in the midst of a levitation trick. He woos the audience by cutting down visible wires and yet his assistant still “floats”. When suddenly, a little girl in a wheelchair has a request: “Make me walk.” But, the once-proud magician is flummoxed. He’s a fraud. He can’t do it. Close curtain. He then goes back to being a selfish womanizer backstage, despite the fact that he really does want to be a good man. A GREAT MAN.

    His opportunity comes when he is whisked off via tornado while escaping the wrath of a jealous carnival strongman to the Land of Oz, where he’s greeted by a charming witch, told where he is, and to beware the flying monkeys and river faeries. He’s a bit naïve, so he’s promptly attacked by both. And then, he’s betrayed by the witch, who thinks the Good witch is the bad witch. Yes, he does it all for money even though he knows he’s not a real wizard.

The interesting part for me, is the friends he makes along the way.  The rest seems straight out of World of Warcraft. See, he saves a good flying monkey named Flynn. As in The Wizard of Oz, each companion I believe symbolizes a real world companion and Oz is it’s psychological counterpart in the imagination. So, Finley is actually Frank, his stagehand and assistant, who he never respected, but here he becomes good friends with. When their adventure leads them to China Town (Where everything and everyone is made of fragile China.) he encounters the seemingly David Bowie-inspired Little China Girl who lost her legs when the flying primates attacked. She’s the little girl in the wheelchair.

   It’d be easy for me to be offended when Oscar/Oz glues her legs back on, but this is his adventure. He wanted to help the girl in the wheelchair, but he couldn’t so in his mind he made her the Little China Girl. That’s part of his quest to discover he’s a great man. In fact, it’s the China Girl who later asks if there are any real wizards where he comes from, and he responds Thomas Alva Edison; which gives him the idea to become Oz The Great And Powerful. True, there is an element of pity in the depiction of disability, but it is the disabled characters that inspire him to use technology to defeat the witches, overcome his own limits, and become great.

As I said, the rest of the movie seems straight out of World of Warcraft with Oz and munchkins using fireworks and a steam machine to make him appear as The Wizard of Oz. I kept waiting for James Franco to say: “I am Oz! The great and powerful!” but it never happens, so instead we get: “It is I, the great and powerful Wizard of Oz!” and I had to think, “Does MGM have that phrase copyrighted?” I mean, the title is Oz the Great and Powerful, so it would’ve fit perfect in just that way. But, it never comes. For shame!

    There are some great homages to the original 1939 Wizard of Oz, such as the black and white film beginning in Kansas (But, never once do we hear that he’s not in Kansas anymore!) or the Poppy Fields being an important battleground. But overall, it reminds me of Oz-cum-World of Warcraft, with Mila Kunis’s green-skinned witch standing in for an orc, and munchkins for gnomish tinkers.

Entertaining and heavy on the “anything’s possible theme”, but also nice to see some disabled main characters, and side characters as well. (The Powerchair Munchkin Tinker!) Cheesy, yes, but sometimes we need to believe in ourselves to become great! Or just have flying monkey battles! Whichever you prefer…like an old-time carnival attraction, it’s got a little something for everyone!

    "Make me walk."    

                               

"I want to come with you!"

FAVORITE BITS OF VSA’S DAY OF ARTS FOR ALL ON MARCH 2ND:

    Not in chronological order, but, introducing, my favorite bits of the Day of Arts for All! On March 2nd, People gathered at the Westerville Community Center, including myself, in celebration of artists with disabilities throughout Ohio for the Day of Arts for all. Artists of all shades were displayed and given awards for their creations.  The artists themselves came up after a short introduction by the mayor of Westerville. First, came the AEO (Accessible Expressions Ohio) Youth awards. Great to see some representation of accessibility in the artistic arena!

   Then, it was straight on to the Young Soloists category. 3rd place singer Sam Shephard delivered a wonderful Jazz set, including a Michael Buble-ish sounding number, and a rendition of “Yesterday” by John Lennon. Finally, Shepherd, the blind music virtuoso, absolutely stunned on the harmonica, having only 5 months training with it prior, as he sang “Keys to the Highway”!

   Savannah Todd performed a surprising mix of pop vocals from Christina Aguilera to once again, the Beatles! And then, last but certainly not least the awe-inspiring operatic vocals of Brian Michael Moore, who I was blown away by; not only singing in Italian, but German as well! Not every day I hear German opera, but of course it’s a pet subject of mine, so I loved it! Most inspiring to me, was how much talent each vocalist had. Most had been singing since childhood, and had already written songs or been featured on the stage. It was a wonderful testament to recognizing talent and accessibility!

   Next up, Ian Getha in Youth Artists, with his dazzlingly colorful display of confetti and tissues and mixed media stuffed into a box called aptly “Party in a Box”! The finalists in this category ranged from the serious to the surreal in creativity. Party in a box is an eye-popping 3D artistic construction from a Kleenex box, that really has to be seen. Also, placing in this section was “The Bird That Protects Me While I Sleep” a somewhat surreal piece brightly colored with impressionistic undertones that form a bird and give the illusion of sleep, in that it came together only as a whole picture. (Nathaniel Curtis) Truly inspiring, and recalls the power of dreams/myth in disabled life, to me.  Lastly, Lucas Feruito captured a whimsical town populated by pets in Petropolis.

   There was one piece I took one look at and said “Oh, that’s good. That’ll win an award.” Little did I know the painting was “Istanbul Was Constantinople” (Though I initially grinned at the title’s allusion to the song of the same name. This was a work of art done by AEO professional and wheelchair  user Tony Hoover; who’d painted an Istanbul skyline with onion shaped towers in red and black; and used yellow for lights.
 
 Also in the gallery, I ran into some photographers in the Athens Photography  Project (APP) who won awards, so of course I took them aside to get firsthand commentary on their works. First, Penny Causey’s “The Sun Always Rises”; a view of a foggy sunrise in rural Athens, OH. The gray rises with the blue and pink sky to form lines of silver on the horizon. Penny said, “It was a lucky shot. The fog just happened to be that way.” If the shot had been any later, the silver color might have gone. “Excellent,” I said. “I love it!”

  I had an opportunity as well to speak to Gordon Francoisa about his “Coal on a Spring Evening” which was a photo taken on OSU campus of a big lump of coal right below the single green branch of a tree. It’s message is, in Gordon’s words, “To communicate that coal is very harmful to Ohio.” After that, I indicated that maybe the tree was meant to be a sign of hope. “Maybe,” he said. “But the coal was more photogenic.” he laughs, but in a way he wasn’t lying. OSU’s red and white scheme provided a sort of natural highlight to the lump of black coal that draw the eyes in.

   Afterwards, they had started the singing in the assembly room. (Remember, I’m going by favorites, not chronological order.) I decided to have a coffee, and some good tea that must’ve had some kind of lavender; sat back and enjoyed the show. I will say that this exhibition was by far one of the most diverse displays of creativity I’ve seen by disabled photographers.

   But, if I may venture back into that assembly room for a moment there were a few other paintings I’d like to mention as favorites. One of which actually received “Best of Show”. Charlotte McGraw’s “The Big-Earred Bats of Charlottesville”! I’ve always had an affinity for magical realism, and these bats rendered as enormously-earlobed cartoon creatures hanging upside-down, was I take it; inspired by magical realism…that is, a fantastical depiction of a real subject. Personally, I feel the style represents my own striving to go beyond what “is”, and of course have a little fun, though I don’t know if her disability experience influenced the painting. That’s just my take on it.

    Lastly, regular readers of this blog will know that I’m a fan of sci-fi. I even began this blog with the intention of reviewing “high sci-fi” books; before focusing more on my “alien” experiences with disability. In this regard, I think my last favorite of the bunch was “The Electric City” by another AEO professional, Malcolm J. This picture of NYC lit with yellow and tall skyscrapers invoked an awe-inspiring sci-fi looking landscape.

    The experiences I had at the Day of Arts for All were in one word: amazing. I got to talk to some of the artists, (Even had the chance to thank Brian for his excellent German pronunciation, before he left.) experience their creations, and I even considered submitting my own art for next year. I encourage everyone I know to support VSA and a growing community of Ohioan artists with disabilities. Help make next year as amazing as the last. The moral of this story is that people may have disabilities, but they disappear once art gives their abilities a voice!

 (c) Charlotte Mcgraw -"The Big-Earred Bats of Charlottesville" 

 (c) Ian Getha - "Party in a Box"

(c) Nathaniel Curtiss "The Bird That  Protects Me While I Sleep"

TRANSCENDING THE BODY THROUGH ART, DR. WHO, AND VALENTINE’S DAY:

TRANSCENDING THE BODY THROUGH ART, DR. WHO, AND VALENTINE’S DAY:

Happy late Valentine’s Day! For me, it was a day full of Doctor Who, sending out virtual valentines to loved ones, and a medical assessment. After a medical assessment, I always need a serious break from reality. So, I watched the Doctor Who movie from 1996! (Actually made as a US TV movie; a good intro to this UK series!) I’ve actually become somewhat of a Whovian as well as a Trekkie, it seems. Basically, The Doctor is a time-traveling alien, a Time Lord, a formless being who can reincarnate himself in human form. His spaceship is a police box called the TARDIS. Each incarnation has a different personality, quirks, and companions. A great show for Valentine’s Day! I’ve watched only 5 or so different incarnations. I love that the show is completely illogical and can be anything since he can be anywhere, anytime.

   Like I said, after a medical assessment, I needed a serious break from reality. I hate my body being poked at, and the time-traveling mystical alien in his flying police box did the trick. Full confession: when I started watching Dr. Who in November 2011, I was just curious what all the Dr. Who hubbub was about. But, I was hooked quite easily. The 1996 movie is a good intro, and begins with at the end of the 7th Doctor’s body, all through the 8th. Personally, I started with the 9th Doctor (2005-2006) and just watched the 8th today. Since the Doctor nearly always has companions, it’s a good show about friendship with good humor and fantastic adventures. I think my favorite is the 10th Doctor. (2006-2010) He’s very quirky and memorable, but capable of getting real serious real fast.

   In fact, I recently bought/made a 4th Doctor costume (That wild-eyed self-aggrandizing genius played by Tom Baker from 1974-1981.)  that I’m bringing to another convention in Columbus. My friend Aaron is going as the 11th. We’re the self-titled “Dr. Who Crew”. Perhaps others will join us. I just can’t wait to be among fellow geeks, I suppose. What else? I got to play PS3 recently. What an experience for someone who hasn’t bothered with videogames in 7 years! Batman: Arkham City was good. I think I’ll review it later. Even though I’ve only just begun sort of a re-entry into the videogame scene. During the assessment yesterday, I got a little bit of a chance to explain intercultural communication with my coordinator, after explaining my interest in sci-fi, escapism, dislike of medical pokiness, etc.
 
Speaking of artistic communication, the 5th Annual VSA Day of Arts For All is coming! This is our chance to express a disability experience. Last time I went it was very inspiring and I met some brilliant young artists. No medical pokey stuff here! This is the expression of our individual life experiences as people and artists with disabilities! This year it will be at The Westerville Community Center from 9am-2pm EST; March 2nd! Come and celebrate life, art, and overcoming disability through sheer creative will! The event Ohio will be sponsored by my good friends at VSA Ohio! The address is 350 North Cleveland Avenue, Westerville, OH 43082. Hope to see you there!
 
 So, in many ways, I consider Valentine’s Day to be a chance to reflect on my good friends who see me for who I am, and not just my disability. In this regard, it was a pretty successful holiday, full of friends, and flying police boxes and art! I even did some of my own art to commemorate the nearing of the Day of Arts For All! Yesterday, was a great reminder that how I get through every challenge in life is by overcoming whatever others might think I am! Also, I’m sort of a Time Lord now! See below! Until next time!

                                             

I AM NOT MY DISABILITY: THE INCOMMUNICABILITY OF DISABILITY

                I AM NOT MY DISABILITY:  THE INCOMMUNICABILITY OF DISABILITY

What is a disability? Is it a severe mental or physical limitation? If this is so, are obese people or drug addicts disabled? Both can be either severely physically and/or mentally limiting. Is it a blessing, granting people a different and positive viewpoint on life?  Or is it a curse, confining and restrictive to otherwise able human beings? It seems that no matter how one looks at the issue, both disability and the disabled community are increasingly difficult terms to define. It is incommunicable.

 This flies in the face of the old axiom that  “You cannot not communicate.” I take communicability to mean understandability of experience. While the ADA and other laws have defined (dialogically) some terms that make disability rights understandable, disability itself is incommunicable. What I argue is that disability and the disability community are relative terms that can actually be harmful to a person if they are rigidly defined to medical diagnosis or reliance on assistive devices. To understand why I am against such definitions (i.e. wheelchair user or cerebral palsy sufferer) it necessary to relate how such ambiguous terms have been communicated through history.

Dialogue is described by John Durham Peters as sharing the same time and space.1 Its uses include the clarification of terms and the creation of dyadic relationships (where we talk to each other.) and creating a sense of shared understanding and meaning. Dialogical contexts include role-playing, philosophy, and drama, where time and space are shared. Because dialogue is fundamentally a dyadic sensation, where the meaning or truth of a statement is typically evaluated by agreement on common meanings for terms, I maintain that any set dialogical definition of “disability” or “disability community” will ultimately be more restricting to a person with a disability than would no definition at all. While it is true that a dialogical definition reached by a common meaning and sharing of inner experience on which laws have been established to protect disability rights, this dialogic search for clarity of terms forces on the disabled an illusionary collective mindset that focuses on common limitations, not abilities.

Dissemination however, would provide a much more personal definition of “disability”, thus allowing for interpretation and the personal development to the notion that I am not my disability. Dissemination seeks no definition: it is open for all to hear.    Dissemination is broadcasted to an open-ended destination; it is a feature of all speech, according to Peters.2 (Shepard, et al., 212) I argue that it allows for autonomy in speech and thought, throughout what we might call the “disability community”. Recently, it has become popular to say that there ought to be one word to characterize the disabled experience, and that this definition should point in effect to the notion that we are all handicapped.

Though I am sympathetic to such efforts, I see the search for dialogical definitions of disability “community” as limiting to the concept of community, although such definitions based on assistive devices or medical diagnosis as helpful to the individual in gaining autonomy, not the community. (“deaf community”, quadriplegics, “wheelchair-users”, etc.) It is up to the individual to interpret what his/her disability actually means through self-discovery. This is why an outlook of dissemination and interpretation is helpful, and why I argue that the community of disabled people cannot be defined by the limitations of its members, but instead by its individual overcomings.  This notion that “we are all handicapped.” is not new.

As far back as 1894, Charles Horton Cooley developed the concept that “Transportation is physical, communication is psychical.” (Peters,  184). He saw all men and women as being sensorily handicapped, but by means of new media transportation like trains, radio, and telegraph (he did not include wheelchairs and speech aids.) they could more easily bridge distances of communication between distant people. This is an attempt to squeeze dialogic thinking into media of dissemination; the sharing of two mutually held ideas and the forming of one psychic understanding.

It was Franz Kafka who challenged the idea that media could transport our souls. Humanity knows that “written kisses never reach their destination. Rather they are drunk on the way by ghosts.” (Peters, Franz Kafka to Milena Jesenkà.) So, they have created trains, telegraphs, and aeroplanes. But, it is no good. In other words, the new communicative media could not cure Cooley’s handicap, being blind and deaf to a larger social world. It is not that “the new communication has spread like morning light over the world,” (Peters, 187-188) as Cooley would have it, but rather, that like the privileged page gifted with the emperor’s last message in Eine kaiserliche Botschaft (1919), the message is never read nor delivered: “The Emperor—so they say—has sent a message, directly from his death bed, to you alone, his pathetic subject, a tiny shadow which has taken refuge at the furthest distance from the imperial sun.” 3 (Kafka trans. Appelbaum, 49) This is a challenge to Marshall McLuhan and his school of thought. The medium may be the message, but it might not be the soul, by which I mean handicaps cannot be reasoned dialogically. As Peters’ noted, Kafka’s Verfremdung [estrangement] explodes the dialogical concept of sharing which is inherent in independent living, but not to disability.

These days, a popular phenomena within disability culture if I may call it such, is the independent living movement. The aims of the movement are to provide persons with disabilities the least restrictive environment in which to live. Which is to say, handicaps are removed through nurse aides and/or assistive devices, or whatever is needed. These aims are fine and noble. But, it raises a question: is the notion of independent living defined? Who has defined it? Under what terms? (Note that here there is a dialogical tint.)

As I have stated, any drive towards freedom should come from the disabled person himself/herself, not as part of a medical examination. I am purposing that it is when the disabled are independent themselves that they really begin to uncover their true handicaps and develop methods to overcome them. Those methods and true disabilities will be individual and as such not open to clear dialogue, but dissemination.

Is independent living harmful to this end? No. One should realize that when one says “independent” we are disseminating. It can mean different things, and levels of independence, just as Wittgenstein claimed that “Water!” could be anything not referring to water itself when used in isolation as a word.4 (Wittgenstein trans. Anscombe, 10) In just that way, one can learn to laugh at one’s own handicap. It is a language-game, and I must play with it in different ways. In effect, the disabled must depend on others as must depend on others. It is wrong to say we don’t need others. We are all handicapped, I believe, robs the individual of his or her own uniqueness.

In summation, is the drive for dialogical clarification of terms and truth misplaced? Perhaps so, but not without benefits. Laws and media have furthered the rights of people with disabilities. However, the community cannot risk finding the one true definition. The aim should be not the dialogical we are all handicapped, but rather a product of dissemination. I am not my disability. As Goethe’s Faust put it: “Name is but sound and smoke, befogging heaven’s blazes.”5 (Goethe trans. Kaufmann, 327)