Arts and Healing a Catalyst for Small Town Renaissance

McGinley Jones, of Twilight Therapeutics, with one of her crystal bowls

McGinley surrounded by crystal bowls

Clay work in progress in the new studio.


Living in Lubec has been an experience like no other. It has presented some of the greatest challenges of my life, but also brought to me some of the most beautiful gifts.

The first few years that we lived here, I was eager to make the great escape. It wasn't at all like the Maine that I was accustomed to.

The word "downeast" conjures images of the idealistic coastal life. Tourists think of Bar Harbor and make the assumption that all of Maine's "beautiful rugged coast" is accompanied by an upper class arts-enriched culture. Even growing up in Maine, I thought no different.

It was a shock for us as the U-Haul passed Machias, rolling down Rte. 1, bringing into view deteriorated roads, dilapitated homes, and few businesses. We arrived to our new living space, never having been here before, sat on the worn and listing deck, watched a white coyote cross the road, and marveled at the gorgeous view, smell of salt air, and sounds of gulls.

If I could have kept myself in that moment of peace and beauty, perhaps it would not have been so difficult a transition. Nonetheless, it was culture shock. Working in the local school system, I came to know the families and their struggles of living in a once-thriving industrial mecca to what was currently a near ghost-town existence with dwindling populations and lack of jobs. Fate had dealt at times an ugly hand for those who had lived and worked here for generations.

As with many small towns that once relied on factories for their livelihood, there is a time of rock-bottom despair, followed by a renaissance.

Chris and I have lived here just over eight years now, and we have been watching the changes take place. It is bittersweet on many levels. We empathize with the people who fear and don't want change, but once that door is opened, there seems to be no going back.

For me, this renaissance feels hopeful. I see an infusion of pride returning as artists begin to bring their innovative touch. It is this insurgence of the arts that makes me feel like this is home. My first few years living in Lubec, I desperately longed for camaraderie with other artists, galleries, live music, and a general eclectic way of life. I also, very deeply, longed for a healing arts community.

Long before we moved here, Chris' grandfather would often say to us, "Lubec is a wonderful place for an artist and a writer." Wooed by that, we took the plunge and moved here on three weeks' notice. The first few years, I didn't fully acknowledge Gramp Richard's wisdom and insight. I never would have thought, eight, or even five, years ago that I would have this new understanding: that this IS the perfect place for an artist and a writer.

Hindsight, I do not think that Chris would have grown as he has with his writing, and I would not have become the artist that I am becoming. All those things I missed about my former home, they are now blooming here before my eyes. I have found an incredible artist community, am blessed with an inspiring new studio space, and am surrounded with miracles of nature every day. I smell the salt air in the summer, watch the eagles soar, fox frolic in the front yard, feel the extreme stillness of winter, and create like I have never before created in my life.

The final missing component for me was the healing arts community. Like with the artists here, the true gems are often tucked away. Slowly, the emergence is beginning. It is a new concept for those who have lived here for generations, but also, on some level, part of their innate knowing of how to heal with the land and spirit.

Eight years ago, a few days before we loaded our U-Haul to embark on our journey from Knoxville, Tennessee to Lubec, Maine, I found a pamphlet about Lubec. It listed a potter named McGinley Jones. I decided to phone her and ask questions about the arts community, and to hopefully make a connection with a fellow artist. It turned out that she was no longer practicing pottery, and as life got more and more hectic, we never found the time to get to know one another until recently.

This new friendship forging gives me another level of hope: that the healing arts community is growing here, or rather, finally coming into the light. For me, this is my own personal renaissance of my spiritual self, which has at times been dormant since moving here.

McGinley is a gifted massage therapist and reiki practitioner. In the past year, she added crystal bowl sessions to her repertoire. It is exciting for me to see this new level of the healing arts enter this area. A few nights ago, I was honored to play hostess for one of McGinley's session in the new studio, which I would like to add, has amazing acoustics!

We were a small group, sprawled out on the floor, resting as we listened to McGinley "play" the nine bowls, each one a different musical note. It is a gift for me, who is normally in such high gear, to be still for an hour and to just "experience" complete peace.

I am not an expert on exactly how these bowls affect us on a cellular or energetic level, but I know one thing...Bello the cat was profoundly affected! He rolled around, flirting and begging attention, giddy and cute as I have never seen him before. So, if it made Bello feel that good, I can only imagine how continued sessions of this sort can positively affect a person.

It has been quite a fulfilling week here for me: drawing group, clay sculpting, and crystal bowls with a phenomenal healing arts practitioner.

Who'da thunk it, right here in little ol' Lubec.



To read an older post about the arts in this region, refer to this link:
http://shannawheelock.blogspot.com/2009/07/arts-gorwing-in-lubec.html

Projects Night at Lubec Consolidated School

(Photos above: student artwork for this year's Projects Night. To Donate to the art program, see info at bottom of this post.)

This past week ranks right up there with one of my busiest weeks ever. This always happens as the school year begins to wind down. We have five weeks before summer break and there doesn't seem a minute to catch my breath. That being said, this particular week is one of my favorite weeks in school.

Project's Night at Lubec Consolidated School is the first Thursday in May. The days preceding the event, students and teachers hustle and bustle about in the classroom, halls, and outside on the playground to prepare for parents, siblings, and townspeople to visit and view what they have been up to that particular year. I love seeing all the creative projects in the classrooms, kids' excitement, and feeling the energy as everyone works to meet the deadline. In kindergarten, you walk in and find life-size cut-outs of all the students sitting at desks with a sampling of the years' assignments in front of them. In fourth grade, Egyptian life-size drawings and handmade clay beads, and a wall of poetry written by our young writers. Third grade displayed dioramas of animals in their habitats, along with poetry and research papers about the animals. Fifth and sixth grades made science projects. The art room is full of artwork: masks, wire portraits, Japanese tea bowls, linocuts and collographs. Hallway bulletin boards are packed full of colorful displays. Great projects everywhere!

Being the art teacher, my job is to set up the art show. The task begins about two weeks prior to the actual exhibit. All students K-12 sort through their art portfolios to select their personal favorite piece of artwork. Then I spend hours mounting and adding names to the pieces. As the big day approaches, I begin creating the annual art newsletter that highlights some of the years events in art class, and this year also prepared informational handouts for donations. When Projects' Night arrives, the custodian scrambles to clean the cafeteria space after lunch so students may begin to deliver the mounted work and art portfolios. My husband shows up, as well as our friends Nicky and Judy, and their dog Shanti, to do a super speedy hanging of the show (all done in under three hours).

After a half hour at home to wash and dress-up, we head back to school and find that cars have filled the parking lot and lined the street. The school is bustling with activity - parents "oohing and aahing" at the great things their children have accomplished. The cafeteria is filled with people looking at the artwork, and sorting through art portfolios, amazed at how talented their children are. At 6:15 folks congregate on the stage for a chorus and band performance. The hour and a half whizzes by quickly.

As always, Projects Night was a huge success. We are all exhausted the next day, but proud of what everyone accomplished. The next five weeks of school will be equally busy - as we head out on field trips (Farnsworth Art Museum next week) and welcome theatrical enrichment programs into our school (Figures of Speech Bunraku Puppet Theatre in two weeks). Grades need to be done, records written and filed for next year's classes, inventories complete, senior discovery projects finalized, awards nights banquets, high school and junior high graduations, prom, and the packing up of classrooms for summer cleaning. All the while, teaching within the classroom continues. My head is spinning.

When I was a student in school, I had no idea what my teachers actually endured in their profession. To an outsider, it looks like a pretty simple job, done at 3:00, summers off. To an insider, the truth is far different. The hours are longer than any other job I have ever had, the pay per hour is pitiful, the retirement plan is shameful, the responsibilities are enormous. To survive the rigors of being a classroom teacher, it truly must be a calling.

Donations
As with all schools across the nation, there are harsh budget cuts that affect programs. The art department is seeing hundreds of dollars less for supplies for next year's budget. We are also trying to raise money to purchase a display cabinet for student sculptures. Displaying student work builds self-esteem and brings awareness of the arts. To help with art supply purchases, display cabinet, and enrichment programs, mail donations to:

Lubec Consolidated School
Attn: Shanna Wheelock, Art Teacher
44 South Street
Lubec, ME 04652

Make checks payable to:
Lubec Consolidated School
Please include on memo line "Art Fund", and include a note with check that states that funds are for the art program. Thank you!

Living at the Edge

We live at the easternmost edge of the United States in a teeny little town called Lubec. Living here is an experience like no other. How we got here was an unusual, unplanned bit of fate.

I am a native Mainer - but central Maine is a completely different lifestyle than "downeast." My husband is from Los Angeles. We were both living in Knoxville, Tennessee when the opportunity came up for us to move to Lubec. Chris' grandfather had a house here that was vacant and he felt it would be a perfect place for an artist and writer. So, we packed up the Uhaul and in three weeks time had a new home and life in a region of Maine that we had never visited before. Of course, we had a glamorous image in our mind...coastal cottage on a sea cliff.

As we continued our drive (a good 20+ hours) up route 1 in Maine..the road became increasingly more deteriorated, the treescape changed (spruce instead of lush maple and oak), and businesses were nearly non-existent. Now, being a town without a Wal Mart or McDonalds is fine, but this gave the word remote a new meaning for us! Here, there are no traffic lights for 50 miles. The eagles soar overhead and bear ramble through town. In winter, there is one, sometimes two, diners that are open for business, and the local market closes by 6:00. Gas and heating oil prices are higher, food costs more, and wages (if you can find a job) are pitiful. Sea smoke pours off the bay signaling another extremely cold day. If you lose power in a storm, Lubec is not the first town Bangor Hydro rushes to repair service to. If you need anything - say a new pair of underwear or a prescription filled - it is either a 70 mile or 100 mile roundtrip to Machias or Calais. And, our little coastal cottage on a sea cliff.....? We arrived to a house, no running water, trees overgrowing the barn entrance, kitchen ceiling being supported by a birch tree branch, no stove, and a 1920's era Westinghouse refrigerator that did a superb job of melting ice-cream and freezing vegetables. And, we have to barricade the cellar entrance every night lest the raccoons break in and tear things apart.

Yet, here were are, eight years later still living here. The first few years were challenging, to say the least. But sometime around our third or fourth year here we began to meet some of the most interesting and incredible friends. They are poets, authors, healers, musicians, artists, storytellers, dancers, peace activists, Buddhists, Quakers, Shamans, naturalists, world travelers, teachers, weavers, and organic farmers. These incredible people, coupled with the raw beauty of this area has us now understanding why people come here and call it their paradise. It is a hideaway from the mainstream where nature is still in charge.

We can walk out our front door and choose from a dozen or more hikes. We can launch our kayaks in South Bay behind our house or in Johnson Bay if we want to tool around the salmon pens. We once saw at least fifty eagles circling over Carrying Place Cove. There are ancient shells hidden in the clay beds at Mowry Beach. Here, you hear the real "downast accent" that the Stephen King movies never seem to get quite right. In summer, painters line the streets to capture the glow of sun's first light on buildings. On Wednesday evenings, Summer Keys classical and jazz music pours out of the Congregational Church. Crow Town Gallery has the tastiest food spreads at their art openings that feature "local" but accomplished artists. On Fridays we pick up the best tasting wood-fired bread from Ed and Diane's place, and we have the sweetest little natural foods market at Sun Porch Industries. Martha is always stocked with fresh breads, coconut milk, spices, rice and pastas which seem to be our main staples. And, if you feel like doing some international travel, just hop in the car and drive across the bridge to Campobello Island, Canada.

So, we have to live miserly to get by here and we are sometimes cold with all the drafts in this old house, and traveling to visit family is a huge production and expense...but the treasures of this little village are worth the extra effort.

To visit some sites about this area check out:

http://lubecme.govoffice2.com/index.asp?Type=NONE&SEC={216C09B5-1156-4827-833E-B285802A912B}
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lubec,_Maine
http://www.culturepass.net/
http://www.summerkeys.com/
http://www.cohillsinn.com/
http://www.thecclc.org/
http://www.qrlt.org/

(In the painting above: The view from Klondike Mountain - overlooking South Bay, behind our house. The posts from an old pier are still visible at low tide. The pier once was attached to a business that was part of the Klondike Gold Rush - yep, right here in Lubec! It turned out to be a scam.)