Looking through a box of old stuff. Here is a 1972 playbill for Indiana Central’s (now the University of Indianapolis) production of King Lear. Here is a flyer for a 1978 Pete Seeger and Arlo Guthrie concert. Why do I keep such quirky things? Probably several reasons, I am sure. For me certain objects seem to serve as totems to conjure long ago memories. I wonder if pondering old collected objects is more common as one ages.
Here is a piece of linoleum. More than 50 years ago my high school art class assignment was to draw something onto a linoleum block then use a sharp knife, v-shaped chisel and a gouge to create an image. This relief surface would be inked and then used to make prints of the image on paper. The result is called a “Linocut.”
The image I carved was of the palm and fingers of my left hand posed as if I were reaching for something. Or maybe in my mind I was gripping an invisible guitar. Or maybe I thought the bent, somewhat splayed fingers looked “arty.” At any rate, that’s the pose. I am left-handed so I choose my dominant hand.
I have always been a little proud that I was born left-handed although I didn’t have much to say about it. Maybe “grateful” is a better way to put it. I am glad I grew up in a time when it was no longer considered an acceptable educational practice to force young lefties into using their right hands to write. I’ve seen research showing this occasionally caused psychological damage. I do wonder, though, if being left-handed has contributed to my sense of the world as a bit off-kilter and left-of-center.
As I consider this 50-year-old self-portrait of my 17-year-old left hand, I can remember sitting at the art table looking carefully at the lines in my hand. The teenage lines. It is insightful to compare my now senior citizen hand to my then high school senior hand. For one thing, I have a lot more lines. I also see spots and wrinkles that weren’t there 50 years ago. Since the self-portrait was created, this hand has experienced a broken bone, currently deals with a bit of arthritis and reluctantly accepts that it has a weaker grip than before.
The tips of my fingers on my left hand were already callused from playing guitar by the time I made the block print. Even then I was pretty sure I was going to be a musician or some sort of creative type. I remember doing several art projects with musical themes as well as making objects that were influenced by the 1960s cultural revolution.
Mr. Huyser, the art teacher would let us bring in cool records to play during class. He encouraged creativity and letting the mind roam. He encouraged experimenting. He abided our talking and joking as we worked. What a great teacher for someone like me. Looking back I see I learned so much from him about art and technique as well as some insight into the creative spirit. I carried much of his class with me when I eventually started teaching.
The image of the hand in the high school linocut shows unadorned fingers. Now I wear a wedding ring on my left hand. Wearing a ring to symbolize the oath of marriage is an old custom, and aren’t old customs mostly good things? They keep us connected to our past, to our culture, and to the people we are and want to be.
Norman Knight, a retired Clark-Pleasant Middle School teacher, writes this weekly column for the Daily Journal. Send comments to [email protected].
