As the school year dwindled to a close, when bodies and souls were most tired, and brains and nerves most frazzled, our art teacher offered a little art therapy to staff.
She’d gathered oyster shells from the Rappahannock River (in my native state of Virginia) and bleached them until they were snowy-clean. She explained some of the barnacle-like formations on the shells: “These are where baby oysters landed and began growing.”
In that moment, I thought: All things connect. Art is biology. Biology is art. Always creating.
Once we selected shells, we chose napkins from our art teacher’s collection, bins upon bins of them, a ponderous assortment for which she was almost apologetic. The napkins were decorated with patterns of all kinds: birds, flowers, sea life, geometric shapes, and so forth. The point was to find something on a napkin that we liked and that would fit on the shell.
I chose a nautical napkin. Perhaps my subconscious wanted to stick with a theme; this was going on a shell, right? Plus, there was an octopus, a creature which captivates me. Normally I’d have searched for a seahorse. I love all the symbolism of the hippocampus in the sea correlating to the hippocampus in the brain (aside: I wrote a poem about hummingbirds yesterday and for the record, their hippocampus is significantly larger for their size, compared to other birds. Has a lot to do with their phenomenal spatial memory). But here was this blue octopus on the napkin, calling to me, with its arms (not “tentacles”) swirling all about it. Would it fit on the shell?
Following the teacher’s directions, I tore the napkin carefully, until the octopus was free. Yes—it would just fit! With a brush dabbed in Modge Podge, I attached the octopus to its new habitat, the interior of the shell. I left it awhile to dry and came back to paint the edges in gold – 14K gold, which my sweet friend the art teacher voluntarily dug out of her supplies for me.
“It’s so beautiful!” she said, eyes aglow.
“I love how the octopus arms drape over the sides of the shell,” I said.
“That,” said my art teacher friend, knowingly, “is the poetry of it.”
In that moment… I was awed.
Art is poetry. Poetry is art. Biology is life. Life…is poetry.
It all flows together, on and on, like the sea itself, does it not.
A prayer-ku:
open up my life
open up my arms, my shell
paint them with Your peace
*****
with thanks to Two Writing Teachers for the Tuesday Slice of Life Challenge
and to all the artists
and poets
who so enrich my life
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lit bits and pieces 
Fran, THIS IS SO TRUE! I really do not think I started to understand the arts included ALL creative endeavors until recently when I watched a child, bored out of his mind at a swim meet, embrace embroidery and its’ creative potential. I guess you would have to be there to understand, but trust me when the mind is thinking diversely rather than convergently, there seems to be a kind of energy that others can see in their aura! You have it. THIS is lovely.
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What an amazing comment, Anita – I appreciate it deeply. I do understand the embroidery epiphany; I have witnessed people knitting to stay focused in a lecture. Along the same lines; fascinating. I am savoring your line about the energy and aura – thank you!
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A fellow writer introduced me to the word Ekphrasis– writing about art. They even have a journal you might like to submit to!
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I have long loved ekphrasis, Leah – I will check out the journal! Thank you!!
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Fran, I love how you point out that all things are connected. Subjects cannot and should not be taught as isolated subject matter. What a great finished shell you have created.
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Thanks so much, Bob – you are so right about the way subjects should/should not be taught.
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Look at that beautiful shell. So much to love here. The connections of art to life to poetry and also the very idea that your art teacher would offer such a soothing space for the teachers at your school. I could use more art and free creativity in my life.
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Thank you, Margaret…as to using more art and free creativity, in life, Amen! I have been thinking much about “freeing” lately.
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Oh, Fran, this is just gorgeous. Poetic, artistic, nature, all in one beautiful post. I love this idea for art therapy. It was accessible for everyone, and it was meaningful. Thank you for sharing!
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Thank you Denise — you know your words always mean much to me!
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Love your octopus, but especially your prayer-ku.
“Paint them with your peace.”
The gold edges set off your shell beautifully.
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Ramona, I am so pleased you found the prayer-ku meaningful. I felt I needed a poem at the end of the post, something simple…all things considered… it turned into a prayer. Thank you for your words!
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Fran, this is so beautiful with the gold edging and the octopus spilling over with its arms. Your post brings back memories of decoupaging sand dollars when I was younger – – we decorated our Christmas tree in them and used them as gift tags that became ornaments, and my mother had a wooden octagon decoupaged purse. Today, it would be horrible to admit that we decoupaged sand dollars since the whole sand dollar was used and of course back in the day we thought nothing of this being the body of a living animal, whether it had died or was living. Oyster shells are the answer for this type of project since nothing is harmed in the making. I love your art. I also love that you have an art teacher who came in to give some art therapy!! That is such a neat post and what a blessing to see this creation of yours.
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The art therapy was easy and fun – I am so pleased with the outcome. I adore my little octopus. She is sitting right by my laptop at this very moment. I recall a decoupaged block purse from my chilhood – it had flowers with faces on them! You brought it right back with this memomory of yours. Memory is so like the sea.
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Fran, I always enjoy reading your slices. I feel the uplift as I read and by the time I get to the last lines, I find myself smiling and pondering your words. Love your last two lines: “Art is poetry. Poetry is art. Biology is life. Life…is poetry. It all flows together, on and on, like the sea itself, does it not.” It’s the full circle of life.
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Thank you for this amazingly uplifting, most gracious response, Alice! Your words are always a gift.
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This is fabulous Fran (in the true sense of the word!). Thanks for reminding us of the interconnections of life and how (seemingly) humdrum biology can actually be art and poetry. Just like that. Your blue octopus is exquisite in its setting. It lifted me out of a drab day (it’s winter here!)
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Thank you, Celia! I always treasure your insights. I’m so glad the blue octopus brought a little brightness to your Southern hemisphere winter! And – I hope you and yours are well.
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wow, that was beautiful. The shell, the poem, the art. Everything. More and more I see poetry as a rare art form that not everyone can access. I am thankful to read your work. Thank you for sharing.
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Thank you for your gracious words!
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