Sculptures…

People ask me all the time about the sculptures downtown.  It’s confusing, because there hasn’t been much press and no one really gets why there are dinosaurs and big horn sheep.  I don’t get why there are dinosaurs and big horn sheep either.  The best I can answer is that Canon City suffers from a bit of an identity crises.  We aren’t exactly sure what our thing is.  Florence has the antique shops and Salida has the art galleries.  Canon City has prisons and dinosaurs and mining and rafting and the Royal Gorge and climbing and biking and pot.  (Every town in Colorado has pot, please let’s not let that be our thing.) But it seems like we are still trying to come up with that one thing, that we can draw people in for.  Personally, I think it could be dinosaurs.  We do have the Marsh quarry close by, and the Dinosaur Park on the other side of town, (even if the T-rex did explode). How cool would it be to drive through town and see twenty brightly painted sculptures of awesome dinosaurs?  It would be like the cows in Chicago. Or the hearts in San Fransisco.  But as with all identity issues, things get a little confused, so soon we will have sixteen dinosaurs and four big horn sheep scattered in locations all around town–some of the locations are great, and some just kind of make me shake my head.  For example, there is a dinosaur in front of the social service building.  I understand there is a lot of traffic there because the justice system is there and the police department.  But we really want tourists to come to our crime and welfare complex?  Because really, that should definitely not be our “thing.”  Despite all that, the sculptures are a great idea because it is art for our town, by people who live in our town, to celebrate the history and culture of our town.  How cool is that?

I was really excited when I saw the call for design proposals for the sculptures.  I love large scale art.  My big dream in life was always to move to New York and paint sets on Broadway, but you know I got pregnant right out of college and had to get a real job, real quick, so that just never happened.  But I still love painting and I have wanted to do a large sculpture my whole life.   However, my breast cancer diagnosis came around the same time the sculptures were announced.  I had the idea of submitting a proposal in the back of my head, but I was also preparing for death.  I mean realistically, I knew I wasn’t going to die, but you hear the C word and your mind immediately goes there.  So I was busy fixing up the house, and making sure Shayne was safe in Maryland, and pushing the damn lawyers to finish up the final steps of my parents’ estate before my surgery.  I decided just turning in a design was the goal, and if I got selected, great, but if not I had met my goal of at least trying.

At two in the morning, on the day of the deadline, I made myself get up and sketch a stegosaurus and color a design on it.  I drew sunflowers and put a brick background on it.  This design has become a bit of a motif for me.  (I’m using art words in this blog). I love bricks–the different colors and textures.  I love architecture and the stories and histories buildings hold.  We have a lot of brick and stone work in our town and I thought the brick dinosaur would compliment those attributes.  Sunflowers are my favorite flowers.  I know they are kind of weedy, but I love how they grow in the summer and fall, so bright and happy.  (Yellow would be my favorite color, but I don’t want red and orange to be jealous).   I also love how sunflowers can grow anywhere; they’re so tough and resilient.  As I colored the stegosaurus, I got to thinking how it also represents my journey over the last years.  I keep coming up against these “brick walls,” yet there is always enough light and hope to get me through to the other side.  Strength against adversity.  That kind of thing.  I made the deadline.

I was super happy to get chosen, but it wasn’t great timing.  School had just started and I was in the middle of radiation.  The dinosaur was delivered and sat in my living room for weeks.  Radiation isn’t really any big deal at first.  You go to the radiation place, strip down, lie completely still while a beam of light hits you for a few seconds, then you get dressed and go on your way.  The effects come later, itchy, blistery, burnt rashes, and bone crushing fatigue.  All you can really do is give in to the sleep.  It’s what your body needs to heal.  So as I worked through the fatigue, I painted the stegosaurus.  I started with the foreground first–the flowers.  I wanted the yellow to be vibrant.  So when I did the brickwork, I had to go around the flowers.  Plus I used a modified form of pointillism.  Each brick has four different shades of red, and I tried to make sure that no brick was like the one next to it.  Seraut, the father of pointillism went blind painting dots.  I totally get why.  I don’t know how many hours it took to paint that dinosaur, but I was proud to do it.  It was a symbol of my survival and a gift to my community–to all my friends and family who love me and support me.

I’m not going to lie, I was a little disappointed that the dinosaurs have been installed with little fanfare.  So when the next round of installations were announced, I was excited.  This was a chance to make the display bigger and better.  I didn’t know if I would get picked twice, but I hoped so.  This time, I also introduced the sculpture proposals to a couple of my classes at school.  I have some great little artists and I thought it would be fun for a team of kids to paint one of the dinosaurs.  But again, the proposal came out at the same time I was struggling with health concerns.  The date of my hysterectomy was the same week as the deadline for designs.  Again, I found myself pushing aside the sculpture plan as I prepared my 650 students for a guest teacher.  I had a tight kiln schedule to get all the clay projects fired, I was painting a backdrop for a music show, and getting ready for the district art show.  In addition, I was having panic attacks over losing my ovaries.  I got this crazy idea that estrogen might be my superpower and I was freaking out that I might be losing my strength.  However, I did manage to turn in my design, choosing the big horn sheep as my canvas (even though, I still think the sculptures should all be dinosaurs).  I arranged for someone else to turn in the student designs, and I checked into the hospital for my surgery.  I figured if I was chosen or one of the kids was, at least I’d have time to paint while I recovered and there was spring break.

Well, I was chosen again.  And so was one of my students.  Wow.  Two sculptures.  The problem was that even though my surgery had gone well, I developed some sort of intestinal infection that knocked me to the ground.  I considered writing about it, but no one needs to hear about my shit.  Literally.  But I’m more or less back on my feet and I’ve started working on my big horn sheep.  This time I started with the background first, a lesson well learned last time.  The foreground is a surprise, but it does tie in with the history of our community. It is also a homage to memories of my childhood, especially with my father and brother, Michael. And of course, a symbol of strength and resilience.  And I have a plan in place with my students to complete another stegosaurus.  I don’t know the story behind my student’s design, but I am sure as we paint, the story will unfold.  I hope that I am able to make the experience fun and foster a sense of community and pride during the process.

Please take time to admire the sculptures.  Share my blog, so others learn about them too.  Canon City may not be the perfect paradise.  But we wake up almost every morning to blue skies, stunning ridge lines, and a rippling river.  People are connected and our history is rich.  Each sculpture represents pride and dedication.  Each sculpture shares a story about our community.  These are the stories that need to be told, shouted and celebrated.  Please help me do it.