BLUE

TALISMANS

WRITING

FROM

STUDIO C

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Blue Talismans

WRITING FROM STUDIO C

Edited by Vivian Marple

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BLUE TALISMANS December 2015

Cover art by Sebastien Blais

Nishikigoi

oil paint, marker and acrylic on canvas

August 2015

Title

Blue Talismans is the title of a poem by Colleen Peters

(contained within this anthology)

Written on the twenty second of July, 2014

Studio C is an award-winning collaborative art centre in downtown

Calgary – a studio and gallery open to the public. The centre opened

in 2005 and continues to innovate through art, creating an inclusive

culture.

It has been home to the ArtRecruits and Empact programs.

Studio C is an initiative of Prospect – a non-profit organization that

breaks barriers to build an accessible Alberta workforce.

For more information about programs and courses visit

Studio C online, by phone 403-269-1838, or in person at the 5th

floor

of the Burns Building in downtown Calgary (Suite #502, 237 8th

Ave

SE, Calgary, Alberta, T2G 5C3)

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Welcome,

I’m excited to present you with this collection of writings from Studio

C. For the past six years, I’ve worked with Prospect, Studio C,

ArtRecruits and Empact, offering short Creative Writing workshops.

I'm always impressed with the work that the participants share. The

things they’ve written have wonderful qualities -- courage, honesty,

beauty of expression, humor, and unexpected twists and turns. At the

end of each class, I feel grateful for what I’ve learned from each

participant. I have such respect for their willingness to dig deep, to

push beyond their fears and reservations to become stronger people.

The title of this anthology is drawn from Colleen Peter’s poem Blue

Talisman. The word blue suggests many things. It’s the colour of sky

and sea, of blue jeans and blueberries. Blue can symbolize peace,

depression, strength or security. A talisman is something magical,

charged with this quality by its creator. It has a powerful influence on

people’s thoughts and feelings.

The first half of this collection is drawn from participants in Studio

C’s ArtRecruits and Empact programs.

The second half is a series of letters from an art exhibit entitled Dear

Disability. It was assembled by Jana Brodkin, a student at the Alberta

College of Art and Design. Jana has been a volunteer with Studio C

and she’s done practicums with ArtRecruits and Empact. The art

exhibit consists of a letter, portrait and photo of each participant.

You can learn more about this project at deardisability.weebly.com.

I’d like to thank Colin Menzies, Brittney Tough, Wilmer Aburto,

Michelle Dyer and all the amazing participants of the ArtRecruits,

Empact, and Studio C programs for their encouragement and support

of this project.

Vivian Marple

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Table of Contents

Mary Salvani page 6

Jen Chester page 8

TYH page 9

Kyle Norman page 12

Jordan Gerlitz page 13

Morgan M. Paul page 14

Matthew Grawbarger page 16

Timothy Dreger page 17

Tracy Pacholok page 18

Moira McKellar page 19

Myriah Cotroneo page 20

Berni Gazzard page 21

Colleen Peters page 23

Jana Brodkin page 31

Paula Timm page 33

Matthew Carberry page 35

Morgan M. Paul page 36

William page 37

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Jessica Maj page 38

Tony Goodison page 39

Anil Singh page 40

Vanessa Zytaruk page 41

Michael Robertson page 42

Chloe Brodkin page 43

Heather Jackson page 44

6

What Makes My Place My Home

The floor squeaks. The door is cracked.

The windows are slightly ajar.

To me, my place looks quite unique

when I look at it from afar.

There are four walls, as you can see,

that protects me from the rain, wind, and cold.

Because my place is relatively new

I don’t think it has any mold.

Now I have told you about my place,

I will tell you what makes my place my home.

My place is more than just a building.

It’s a home where I feel safe,

as safe as I can be,

to hang out on my own,

or to have a meal

with my friends and family.

My place is part of a group of buildings,

within a community,

where I can do some gardening with my friends,

or go fishing,

or even take photos of wild animals

playing in the trees.

What makes my place my home,

is much more than you can see.

What makes my place my home,

is that I can let my guard down to relax

without fear of being hurt or scared.

I am finally free to be me.

Mary Salvani

7

I AM A PERSON

I am a person who happens to have a disability.

A lot of people see me as one who has got no capability.

I am a person, who has got a good caring heart,

who has remained unseen right from the start.

I am a person who has finished school,

where I learned that teachers and peers see me as a fool.

I am a person who feels hurt everyday

because people say mean things and smack me out of the way.

I am a person who deserves to be fed,

not sent away every night hungry and off to bed.

I am a person whose sexual boundaries have been broken,

leaving a void inside me,

that has kept me as a prisoner instead of letting me be free.

I am a person who deserves to be treated with dignity,

honor, and respect.

Instead I feel like I am a reject.

I am a person who feels broken into pieces like a puzzle

because the words inside me have been muzzled.

I am person who deserves to be treated well.

Instead I’m living inside a jail cell.

I am a person who needs to be heard,

but no one stopped and cared long enough

to listen to any of my words.

Mary Salvani

8

Brighter Now

I was weak. Defeated. Broken. Hurt. I couldn't find my way out.

I was alone. I felt less than nothing. I had nothing to offer.

I started to see light. It was faint, barely anything. It grew, slowly and

I grew with it. Learning to trust, learning to talk to people,

ask for help, and accept it.

I started getting better, stronger, my pieces were being mended

back together with help.

I had people. I wasn't alone anymore. It was slow, but my light was

getting brighter.

I stumbled a lot. Fell a lot. Sank low. I dropped my light.

But was picked back up, dusted off. Mended. My hope grew.

My strength grew. My light was relit.

I was maybe going to be okay.

With people by my side, I was hopeful.

I am better now. I have hope. I have a bright lamp.

I am getting stronger. Facing new challenges. Growing to new heights.

I am better. I am more. I have love. I am love, and I am Loved.

Jen Chester

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Eight pieces by TYH

I love

I love goodness, truth, and love. I love magic. I love to feel and see

goodness in others. I love to be free of fear. I love the beauty of the

world. I love the diversity. I love the different animals. I love the

different plants and flowers. I love vistas; being able to see far into the

distance. I love the color of the sky. I love how vast the universe is. I

love discovering new things about this world. I love mystery; and I

love secrets; and a whole lot more, but most especially my wife, I love

you!

Share?

So, you want me to share my inner secrets! I don’t think so. So, you

want me to let down my inner guard! I don’t think so. Are you

my friend? I don’t …think so. Why do you ask such a bold request of

me? What do you seek? What do you desire? Find my friendship

first, and you will find that my barriers fall unasked. My inner secrets

shared to those who don’t ask at all; when the time is right. Are you

that person? We shall see. Time reveals all.

To Howl at the Moon

The moon; yes not so pretty without her stars,

Yet more powerful than any object in the sky save one,

And who can look at it and not be burned?

The wolf; to howl with blood-lust, drawn in submission to her light,

Yet more fearsome than any animal in the woods save one,

And who can look at it and not be spurned?

Desire

Secret desire, friend of mine?

Bold desire, guard your design!

Secret desire, friends instead.

Bold desire, never said.

10

Summer sun in a storm

I want to write about a storm, but the storm won’t come. Maybe it is

sunny skies that I feel; a warm sun, and summer heat, but not too hot;

a breeze blowing, the air chilling a bit; flowers in a garden, a garden

remembered; golden flowers offering a warming scent. Can a scent

warm? I think so; certain ones. It is the garden of my youth, with me

a child at home. There are raspberries growing on bushes; ripe, juicy

and delicious. Watch out for the thorns though, that and the spider

webs; good memories. I feel a loneliness, though; a loss; my mother

gone; gone into the next life, and happy to go, but not happy. I miss

her. I love her. Her loss pulls at me still, long into my adulthood. My

wife fills that void, but not completely. Good to have someone. Love

is real. Goodness is real. Did my mother know goodness? Perhaps,

but I think not completely, because she seemed to yearn for

something, and thus her unhappiness; thus her sadness; thus her

distant stare, that I remember still. I miss her and I miss that

summer sun of my youth; a summer sun with a storm of feelings. Can

you hear me mom? I miss you! You left before I could give you a last

hug, and so here it is. A hug … from the son you left behind.

To love the World

To be in love, and to be loved, the need of us all. The bond that

heals all. To heal the sick; to heal the injured; to love the world, and

all that is in it. The need of the world. We wait. Will it come from the

Creator above, or from Aliens far away? To be loved; to be healed; to

be free. We wait, and yet if love can be found within, within all of us;

then we all can have it; we all do have it. To have it; to feel it; to

discover it inside us, each of us. Love spreading out to the world. All

of us having a part in healing the world; to heal its people; to heal us

all. The dream of the world. All of us loving each other without

reservation. The hope of the world. The hope for us all. Maybe we

can wait for help from above; from Deities in Heaven, or from Aliens

far away; or maybe it will come from each of us. Love.

11

Who is Me?

Who is me is a mystery unknown, even to me. Happy one day, sad

the next. Always searching, always looking for answers. Who made

the world? Why? Always asking questions, just like a child; a child

inside, always waiting for a surprise birthday party that never comes.

Looking for Magic in everything and knowing it exists, but always

disappointed when it is not found. Looking for it and knowing it is

there. Believing always in Goodness, Truth and Love. The three

working in harmony to create that Magic. Not happy with the

mundane, the banal. Bored with the un-magical part of the world and

hating evil. Not Humans though! We are all children here. All equal.

Tall, short, black, white, male, female, all together, all the

same. Who put us here? Was it great Deities perhaps, or maybe

beings from another planet? A life of searching. That is me. Loving

my wife. Happy to be with her. Yet searching for answers, and not

satisfied. Looking for more. Knowing it exists, but perhaps not here;

perhaps elsewhere; perhaps in our true home. Do I miss it? Yes! Is it

in Heaven? Maybe. In the stars? Maybe. Will religion have the

answer? Will science? That is me. Always wondering. ME.

Woman’s hand

I see a woman's hand. Hi woman’s hand. I like your nails, they’re

clean and neat. I sense that you have experienced some things; not all

good things. I feel that you have experienced some sadness and some

pain. I feel that you have a story to tell, and that you are eager to

share it. Are you ashamed of some things? Don’t worry, I won’t judge

you. Were you burned as a child? No worry, so was I. Have you

accomplished many things? I wish that you could tell me. Did you

win awards? Are you strong? Have you held a child? I think so. If

only you had a mouth, I would gladly listen.

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Bullies. Can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em.

Nobody likes a bully. They're judgmental. They're abusive and just

downright evil. They have no empathy or compassion and think they

are the center of the world. They think they can always have their

way. Bullies are everything a man like me could hate in the world and

yet, I owe the life I live today to them. The bullies of my past haunt

me to this day. Emotional scars don't fade. They serve as a constant

reminder of the days I spent in torment. They drive me to become

strong, stronger than I was then, stronger than I am now. That's right,

bullies helped me. They helped me become the man I am today and

will continue to help me become the man I wish to be. Without my

bullies, my demons, I would still be the shy, timid, emotional wreck I

was in elementary school. I wouldn't have the drive I have now, to

pop the bubble, to break the shell I live in and soar like the bird I am.

I will live my life with the constant torment of bullies but I won't let it

get me down. Think positive and take what you can from every

experience. Sure, bullying is terrible, being bullied hurts, but it doesn't

have to be a fruitless thorny bush. Through bullying, I've gained

confidence I never would have dreamed of. Today I am strong. I am

stronger than the bully, better than the bully, and more successful

than the bully. My life was made torment by bullies, but they also

gave me the life I live today. If I could meet one of the bullies from

my past once again do you know what I'd do? I'd take a step forward,

take a deep breath and say Thank You. Then I'd knock his block off.

Kyle Norman

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GAME CHANGER

Epilepsy. GAME CHANGING. LIFE CHANGING.

Felt like tying the game to go to overtime for it all,

then taking a stupid penalty and giving it all away.

Or going first overall on draft day, then, before your first game,

you get a career-ending injury. All my hard work,

everything I enjoyed and loved. Gone from when I hit the floor

to when I woke up in the hospital. Epilepsy brought on

lots of challenges I wasn't ready for. I was scared. I felt isolated.

I let Epilepsy overcome. I became Epilepsy, until the day it

came for me. It was either just give in and let Epilepsy win

and become just another negative stat. Or I had to STEP UP,

GET UP, and GIVE IT MY ALL. I don't want to be Epilepsy,

just because I have it. Time to get back in the game. PRACTICE.

PRACTICE. PRACTICE. WORK HARD. Take the experience

I gained from failing and make sure it doesn't go to overtime.

Be CONFIDENT, PROUD, HAPPY, and make

the WINNING SHOT. Epilepsy is just a condition.

It can be managed. Sometimes it is sneaky, violent, mean,

and intrusive. But I'm the MONSTER of Epilepsy.

I will NOT LOSE. No matter how many times it takes.

I am WINNING this. WATCH ME WIN.

Jordan Gerlitz

14

Little Warrior

It was about ten seconds into the brawl that I realized I was

getting my ass kicked. His name was Zach Grunger. He was a steam-

blowing brute of a teenaged boy that clearly had older brothers and

came from a rougher part of the neighbourhood. And I, well… I was

the little warrior.

The confrontation happened a few hours prior when I

walked into Zach and a few of his friends mucking about and I

noticed Zach dropped his chocolate bar. So I picked it up and stuck

it my pocket, I robbed the poor bastard of what I imagine was his

only meal of the day unless he was lucky enough to catch a live rabbit

and devour it before school.

It was about an hour later when word finally got back to me

that Zach had plans to beat me up. Now I know the better half of me

would have just paid him back, but I was low on scratch and being the

type of school it was I had to prove my worth. The remainder of the

school day I visualized a strategy to overcome this petty disagreement.

I decided my method of action would be intimidation.

The bell rang and word spread across the halls that there

was going to be a stand-off between Zach and I. A crowd of excited

hormone-driven teenagers started to form a circle around us, and

then my guardian angel presented me with an opportunity to save

myself. Zach chose to be the bigger man and tried to end the feud

verbally and said that a simple apology would suffice. But the little

warrior, the ego, the kid that had something to prove to this group of

dopey spectators said no to the idea of saving ourselves the energy of

conflict.

So we chose to go to a field down the road and settle the

pointless argument. My friends and I drove to the park and I decided

I had to appear more intimidating, so I wrapped my hands in cloth

and told my friend to walk beside me holding a bat.

Once Zach and I were face to face, I told him that if anyone

interfered with the fight my friend would interfere with the bat. I had

gone mad; I had to be to think that this scrap was even worth taking

part in. Once we both decided it was time to start we proceeded with

circling each other, waiting for one another to strike first.

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He made a few false strikes to encourage the fight forward

and I took note. When he made the last slow hook I stepped in and

planted a jab square on his nose. It was the last hit I got on him. He

paused, checked his nose with his hand and when he looked down at

his fingers and saw blood he turned into someone-something

completely different. Like a raging chimpanzee he attacked with full

force, knocking me on the ground and assuming a full mount while

wildly swinging downward punches at my guarded face but broke

through my forearms protecting me and demonstrated no restraint.

I had endured a serious amount of trauma to the head and

lost all my energy protecting myself from this cave man but I tried to

defend myself until the end, with a bloody face and fractured cheek

bone I struggled to break free and found myself in a head lock. I

tapped out and told the ugly prick he had won.

Morgan M. Paul

16

We are all products of life's longing for itself

It seems as if I have always been at the finish line, just waiting, waiting

for myself. I don't think that I could ever be my own hero, though I

wish, I hope, I wait for the day that I may be able to accept that I have

been my own hero all along. I feel like I've aged an eternity of

lifetimes in only one day. I've felt that same way on many occasions

throughout my life. My life is that of a ghost inside the heart of a

bird. When I think of love, I think of this. When I think of my love

for all things, I think of this. When I think of those whom I love, I

think of this; when I think of cats, I think of this. When I break,

when I shatter, when I wisp away, when I retreat into my own

imagination, when I think of the term glowheart, when I ask myself:

Am I reading too much into things, is it only natural human paranoia,

such as seemingly all natural beings in the universe have, or is it

unfounded paranoia or something more or something less, is it a

sense of calm, a sense of peace of mind, a cool relaxing breeze, a

breeze-block, am I just within the confines of my own mind, am I in

the realm of reality, or of a dream, or perhaps just my own

imagination, what is it all - nothing, everything, a non, a neutral, a

blank, an outline, the infinite neon black, infinite neon white, mist,

fog, air, glimmery bits, waverances, jingly-jangly bits, findly bits, pindly

somethings, fog of small white flower pedals floating in the molecules

of the atmosphere, dust in a quark in the off-centre of a quasar, a

phase-past through and around and past all of that, a metaphoric

representation of a vague Deja-vu of something past or yet to come, is

it the future or the present, am I me, what is this thing called

me? When I think of such a question...

Ending 1: I ask myself: "what is love?" How can I explain such a

thing to myself, and do I ever need to?

Ending 2: I think of love and does the spiritual ‘hear’ exist? If I am

myself, then I truly believe so. But what is life if not an upside-down

unbelieving entity? A speck of all in a nothing of infinity?

Matthew Grawbarger

17

THE PEANUT Timothy Dreger

The peanut has been a food staple in North America for many, many

years. It has been a Go-To snack, popular during holidays, and a

great companion at sporting events. A popular US president started

out, and still remains today, a peanut farmer. The love, attention and

commitment to the tiny legume have been immense.

The peanut plays well with others, as evident by the examples of

Peanut Brittle, Reece's Peaces, Thai Peanut sauce,... and of course,

Peanut Butter itself.

The Official Peanut Representative wears a Tuxedo and Top Hat,

sports a Monocle, and carries a Fancy Walking Stick. A very dapper

fellow, indeed!

But Deeply Concerning Developments have crept into the peanut

culture. Suddenly, Multiples of people have developed a Dangerous

Allergy to peanuts! It is Now Required to Provide Warnings on Food

Products providing information if the product May or May Not

contain peanuts. Several Airlines have Banned peanuts from Being

Served, Or even Carried Onto a passenger aircraft! This relatively

new development of peanut allergies has grown into a Genuine

Medical Concern!

Where did this allergy Come From?? A Peanut Allergy was virtually

Unheard of, 30 Years ago.

Is it a Natural Condition of Evolution that has been Accelerated due

to over-use of peanuts?

Is it an Adverse Condition brought on by Climate Change? An Alien

conspiracy?

Or maybe it is a more Sinister Plot fuelled by a Rival Corporate

Greed (i.e. BIG Almond).

In any case, rock-on Little Peanut, rock-on. Because even for the

Humble Peanut, the times they are a-changing.

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signs of life

part my lips to breathe in the air

awaken the life that seems to be there

it circles around, tries to take hold

a sign of life begins to unfold

I can see it now from where I stand

reaching out to grab it with both my hands

it flutters and darts pulling away from me

the promise of life is all just a tease

a struggle to fight trying hard to move in

to get just a taste of the life that`s within

no success as I open the lock on the door

the life that I saw lays dead on the floor

awakened now from what I'd seen

hard to believe it was all just a dream

a foggy image that I`d seen in the mist

those signs of life, really do not exist

Tracy Pacholok

19

The Peace Collective

You let me go in a fit of rage,

cast me from your life.

How could this happen again and again and again?

It is time to heal the never-ending wounds,

to cauterize an eternity of carnage.

Let no more the vengeful anger,

the childish tirades,

the pettiness,

the controlling fear,

the need to dominate, have its way.

Let it all end now ... so that we may flourish,

exist and love together.

And finally, we will set ourselves upon the task

of why we are really here.

And ultimately we can become who we are.

Not what hubris has made us.

Moira McKellar

20

Handout

I have broken knuckles from years I can’t remember.

Continually breaking and broken, and I keep swinging

but now I hesitate.

I want to hit the wall but I hit the air before it,

gently it holds my hand from further damages.

I have broken knuckles from months ago,

days ago, moments ago.

I am left with the bruises I have given myself,

and the shattered bones of hands

that used to give out love like loose change.

Now all they give is a beating to themselves,

a crack against a wall to remember where you are.

Where you came from, what you fought through.

You keep hitting, and breaking.

Cracking and beating.

Promising to stop punching walls,

once the walls are broken down.

Myriah Cotroneo

21

For Dakota

I never realized it before, but you're right.

I do actively try to notice the minute nuances.

I do try to pay close attention and remember the things people say

and do around me.

It was kind of a surprise to consider and realize that I might've been

seeing so much for a change. I'm sorry if the attention may have been

intrusive in a way. It's not my intent, and by the way, it's a foreign

concept for me. As someone who perpetually felt like she could

never see enough, to be told I notice everything was so... Weird?

Odd? Counterintuitive.

I think in part, it's all because I know pain and I don't want to

inadvertently cause pain via negligence... Paying attention is my way of

treading gently, to not cause any damage or harm on anybody... This

is a very conscious and deliberate effort on my part. Its intent is

connection and kindness, and while I now realize it may have an

unwanted floodlight effect on someone who seems used to coasting

along unnoticed, I'm not sorry for noticing. I actually want to notice

more. I want to see it all. To see everything I can possibly see. I want

to feel involved and a part of, instead of feeling like I'm always

missing out.

I've always had limited vision, and it's just a matter of fact that I miss

so many aspects of life every day. I've resigned myself to the inherent

absence of detail. I've taught myself to be satisfied with such marginal

wonders. I've taught myself to find victories in the mundane and

otherwise inconsequential because they exist mostly in the in-

betweens and I've always felt like I lived there, in the in-between.

I skirt around an island I will never fully understand and swim in

feelings and sounds and tastes and moments of connection instead.

Besides, I've now come to understand that I've subconsciously

adapted. Hence, this letter. This thank you letter.

22

It's an intrinsic thing for humans, the social creatures that they are, to

notice and absorb as many details as they can from their

surroundings. From the evolutionary perspective, it's a matter of

survival. From the anthropological aspect, it's for civilized

coexistence.

For me, it's to share in the moment. To live the experience in my

own unorthodox way with whomever my present company may be.

To connect with them in a simple and pure level. To sense what I

miss from my reduced sight through a different perception.

I'm not sorry that I see you. I wish you could see yourself the way I

see you. You, as a placid lake whose peaceful surface reflects the

world right back at it. But you, also as the beautiful lotus flower in the

middle of the lake. Your roots going deep. So deep that it explores

dark places while your bloom gazes up at the sky, and thrives, and

perseveres, and wins people over by a quiet patience and stoicism.

You exude a quiet strength, I try to read into the mysterious smiles,

but at the end of the day it's all just my interpretation. My effort to see

and fill in the blanks are still independent of the fact that you are just

you and I am just me.

Anyway, thanks for noticing that I notice. I appreciate it a lot.

Berni Gazzard

23

12 poems by Colleen Peters

Blue Talismans

It started as blue cloth, dark blue cotton with vines and small grey

berries, from my Grandmother Heppner. I was to cut the dress knee

length but my Mom had a Concerned Citizens meeting that night so I

made it ankle length. A seam in the back connected the bodice to the

skirt. It was beautiful. I wore it all throughout Europe with my

backpack clinched in the middle, the colour wore thin at the waist. It

was called bellamissa in Italy when a man I helped set the tables

talked about God and how I should study him.

It wore thin through the years, always letting my tanned arms shine

and my blue eyes bright. My legs started showing through the skirt

and my Mom made me promise I'd sew a slip for it. I never did, I

never have. Just worn it occasionally and now it rests in my closet. It

all began with cloth from my Grandmother Heppner, the mother to

my mother who sewed the dress. My mother whose birthday it

is today.

Blue Talisman Two

The blue jumpsuit

Julie picked out for me

On our first spending money shopping trip

Me spending my allotted amount

She said, “Look what I found,”

And handed over a patterned creature

On her arm

"It's a jumpsuit, only twenty five dollars"

It fit. It tied at my waist

And then behind my neck

It elongated my legs and

Was perfectly my style

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I wore it to a coffee date

With a friend, he said

“You never wear a skirt, but

You look nice”

I looked too nice, he didn't

Even flirt with me in his

Joking funny way

Already the jumpsuit has a privileged

Place in my wardrobe

As I fussed and buffed in my kitchen

Preparing to paint

I put on the jumpsuit at ten o'clock

Polished my mirror

Set it up in the light

And painted a blue sunflower

Blue Talisman Three

My blue jumpsuit patterned

In purple and teal

I painted a farewell flower

Rushing into the next phase

Relationship with self

Blending colours which I

Rarely do, turquoise blue

Yellow sun, green moving line

Surrounding half a yellow halo

The flower starts to form

25

Petals are placed meticulously

Reflected is my form caught in the mirror

Reflection of style, grace and form

Foreground a sunflower I bought

Myself in a big bouquet of flowers

To celebrate breaking up with my boyfriend

The painting has an urgency

Get on with your life, what better way

Than with style and passion

I showed the painting the next day

It was greatly admired

The texture, oh the texture, not everyone

Can do that

This part grabs me

This part for me

Hang it again this way

Hang it for me

The jumpsuit hangs in my bathroom

The painting in my kitchen

The jumper dress folded in my closet

And the possibilities on the line

Today was my Mom's birthday

And she always said how

Creative I am

And she would have liked this

26

You are like water

You are like water that tastes right

Like it's been exercised

And set free over the rocks in the mountains

Set free and laughing

Bumping against other water

And making friends with the air

Dimples of sunlight and minerals

I can feel in my mouth

Air from there

Seahorse

I would like to ride a seahorse

A little puff with his wings

I don't need to own him

It's just a little thing

Or maybe swim beside me

Reeds accord

Puffy little belly

Seahorses know temperature

Moving on

Seahorses don't wear

Long johns

Old lady in burgundy leather

Skirt slit up to here

High heeled shoes

Frizzy white hair

Talking about pineapple

"Oh God, how sweet"

27

Jasmine

I open a bead tin and the sweet smell of jasmine folds

out like a heavy scarf. It's the smell of romance and

late hot baths. Hidden from the ordinary world and

written about in foreign novels.

Daffodils

Herds of daffodils

Waving

Sill topped

Frost held back by the window

Sun held in by the suns

Herds of daffodils waving

Hello to everyone

Violets

In a yard of gravel and cement

Small white bleached violets grow

Not so much bravely as adventurously

And look in my face

28

My mustards are making love in the fridge

My mustards are making love in the fridge

I found them laying on top of one another

Bold and Spicy

on top of Dejon Great Value

imported by Walmart

The Dejon was left here

by my last roommate

And the Bold and Spicy is mine

now I claim it to assert

Dominance in the house

Food hold court here

bring your remains here

Of eggplant No Hurry

rice and the sacrifice

of lettuce organic

I don't eat lettuce much

but I buy it on twinges

of conscience, it's so good for you

Well then you eat it!

Back to the mustards -

Did I mention the sticky ring

under the Dejon?

That must have been some

action I never heard

just thought it was the fridge

knocking.

29

I made them wait

Knock Knock do you wanna talk

Colleen it's Lionel

Lionel like linoleum?

Wait a minute I don't wanna walk

Are you alright in there?

I'm not a cop

My clothes are knee high

There is no way I wanna talk

I got dressed up in my cash black

Pulled a large canvas from the rack

Painted in fury, painted free birds

Three foot by five foot possession

They came back to soon

Lionel and the other goon

You will have to come with us

But I made them wait

Gold paint I splattered

On my canvas that mattered

I even got some on my tall black leather boots

I said you wait I'm almost finished

I packed my black suitcase

And picked up my fiddle

Knocked over a mirror

Tall shattered life path

In the emergency room we sat

The hours passed by

An artic boy sat by

A young polar bear

30

His family lined the rows

And restless he roamed

Later he pulled the fire alarms

In the cafeteria

Knock Knock do you wanna talk

Colleen it's Lionel

Lionel like linoleum?

Wait a minute I don't wanna talk

Caragana Honey a song

I dreamt I had a Caragana Honey

Tall, dark and sweet

He tasted just like sugar or maybe mead

On my teeth

Gone, gone, gone, gone

He's gone

I thought about my Caragana Honey

Tall, dark and sweet

We used to make music on down the street

I play my harmonica, he'd play his guitar

Listen can't you hear it, it reaches so far

Gone, gone, gone, gone

He's gone

I thought about my Caragana Honey

Tall, dark and sweet

Hot mornings by the river, shady trees

My Caragana Honey, he won't go far

My Caragana Honey lives in my heart

31

Letters from Dear Disability

March 20

th

2015

Dear Disability

You started when I was born, because I was born premature.

Chloe, my twin sister and I were 6 weeks premature and our

developmental skills are delayed. My fine motor, and working

with hands and coordination can be difficult for me. This

affects my art practice which is painting playful portraits of my

friends and family, and life events, through me having a

nonrealistic style of painting, odd brushstrokes, and funny

lines. I may have double lines that overlap each other and one

eye bigger than the other. These occurrences are also part of

my visual perception, as I see measurements differently and

take more time for my brain to process information. It has

been an ongoing struggle to decide when to let people know

about my disability and how it can affect things like writing a

research paper, and painting.

I went to a private school for junior high and high school called

Calgary Academy in which there are smaller classes with

teachers who would give me extra help. I participated in speech

therapy, and occupational therapy and educational assessments

to assess my challenges. I find that I am not confident with

having my disability and I wish to be more accepted by

teachers, and the art world. Just because I have a disability does

not mean I cannot make art, and not function in normal

society. I just need extra help with writing, visual perception,

abstract reasoning, reading people, and digesting information.

32

I feel satisfied writing to you about my challenges and accepting

in whom I am and how these challenges affect me in

approaching others and that fear of telling people about my

disability and not being accepted. My hope with this Dear

Disability project is to have more people like me write out their

disability, and how it impacts their life, art practice, and school-

related activities. Write out how having a disability effects their

life, and having a painted portrait of people with disabilities in

order to restore self-expression and acceptance. These portraits

will be on display as an exhibit, and made into a book with a

photograph of the person with the disability, their write up, and

their portrait.

Sincerely,

Jana Brodkin

33

Dear Disability,

You started to bug me in my mid-twenties. I finally had you named,

ulcerative colitis, celiac, and some connective tissue oddities.

Eventually you bugged me bad enough that I had to have you

removed.

I reluctantly underwent surgery to remove you; I now have a poop

bag on my stomach. I didn’t accept you the moment after surgery.

The first look at my altered body brought me to tears. I recoiled

when emptying my bag. Day and night, I was constantly made aware

of my bag. I was totally immersed in disgust and rejection of my new

self for months after surgery. I had a long recovery to mend from

ostomy surgery, wean from months of narcotics and corticosteroids

and accept my new body.

I didn’t live with my illness alone or come to accept my ostomy on

my own either. It was the outpouring of support from my spouse that

was always present in my life. It was his strength during the rough

times of colitis flares, prednisone rage, hospital visits, and finally

ostomy care. It was his support and acceptance of my new body,

which brought me to realize that acceptance of this new bag, was

necessary to move on with our lives.

Chronic illness led to the removal of my colon, a surgery that was life-

altering in mind, body and spirit. The gift of this tragic event was my

creativity. As I gain strength and vision for my future, I know that I

can be an employ of art, I can help others to heal, and I can inspire.

I am committed to immersing myself in the community of art, to

ensure that I stay creative, creating and connecting. Sharing my story,

teaching my skill, learning from others: these are the new riches of my

life. This is my new mission, ALLOW YOUR CREATIVITY TO

HEAL AND WATCH YOURSELF GROW.

34

I am a beacon for courage, confidence, ostomy on the outside, sex

clothes wearing, no-holds barred kind of gal! I want to remind all

ostomates, regardless of weight, age, colour, ability or disability that

ostomys are not life ending, they are not clothes altering, they are not

something to be ashamed about. Ostomys are about courage, pride,

life, ability and confidence to move forward.

Your Pal,

Paula Timm

35

Dear Disability,

Before I was born, I had suffered a brain injury. I am diagnosed with

ADHD and Fetal Alcohol Syndrome, both symptoms that can at

times impair my ability to do certain things at a high functioning level,

such as multi-tasking and dealing with levels of anxiety. Yet despite

what symptoms I have, this does not hinder my abilities to press on in

life and pursue my interests. One of these is a deep passion and love

for the arts, which I continue to pursue as a profession. I currently

attend the Alberta College of Art and Design, while working

alongside a place called the In-Definite Arts Society, an organization

that is dedicated to helping students with disabilities become great

artists. A disability can sometimes be seen as a label, one that others

and even we tend to place on ourselves. Yet I believe, no matter what

you may be diagnosed with or what you are capable of, you always

have a way to express who you are as a person deep down in a

meaningful and beautiful way.

Regardless of anyone’s disability, I personally believe that no one

should be treated differently. Art is one of those subjects that I find

embraces a sense of uniqueness and individuality, yet is also an

activity that anyone can indulge in. It’s a form of expression, one that

anyone can take part in. Art is a great way for people with or without

disabilities to come together, to embrace something that speaks

volumes from beyond one’s own voice. I want to become part of this

project, as it would be a great opportunity, building connections

through communications, as well as the freedom to express, to be

unified with other artists who share having a disability; yet can go on

to create extraordinary things.

Matthew Carberry

36

My Dearest Disability,

Hello friend, it’s been a while since we’ve last spoke or you have at

least which is nice because you are the pestering voice in my head.

The doctors tell me your name is Schizophrenia but with you around

I thought you were just me, beside myself.

It is now year five and somehow I survived, I’m not sure how I’m

alive because since you arrived I’ve poured booze down my throat to

drown out your sound but I only sunk to the bottom of a bottle. I

wrote a book about you though; I thought you’d be proud of me. It’s

about everything you talked to me into doing, such a charmer you

are.

But I must admit it’s quite lonely in here, this whole mind and only

one person thinking inside it. Although it’s quiet I do like it because,

I get to think in silence. You were so violent and loud it was really

disturbing but with you gone I’m back, I’m again an earthling.

Madness is so fun to write poetry about, you must really try it. My

regards to you my sickness, you’ve changed me but not for the worse.

You’ve tried me and I still find balance like a tight rope walker with a

monkey on his back.

Ta-ta for now dear Schizophrenia,

Best of luck.

Morgan M. Paul

37

Dear Disability,

Oh how many years we’ve been together, despite your clutches ever

increasing and your insistence that you rule my life and govern my

way of doing things you will find I’m no pushover…while you stop me

from having any kind of night life or being able to drive a car,

amongst other things, if you think you can torment me or stop me

living my life you are terribly mistaken, I will use you to my

advantage, no long lines at the airport or Disneyland for me! In some

ways I must thank you for making me who I am…an international

level cyclist, representing Canada on the world circuit, and while you

are making things difficult I will always prevail because I am not you,

I am not my disability, I am me, an athlete who happens to have a

disability and that is how it shall stay, you, the disability will never

come first!

William

38

Dear Disability,

Although you have tried to define who I am for many years, I will not

let this happen. I have shown over the years that you are part of me

and thus, part of my identity, but that is all. I have defined who I am

as a person over the years; a strong, independent woman who will

experience success in all aspects of life. Back in grade six when I was

frustrated, failing my classes, nearly had to repeat grade six, not

making any friends, thought I was extremely stupid, and thought that

you were going to cripple me forever, I did not have any hope. This

changed when individuals were willing to accept me for who I am and

were willing to go the extra mile to help me and understand the extra

help I needed and, most of all, were willing to help. I now have

strategies in place to be successful and use my learning disability to

my advantage. What I want most is not success for myself, but for

individuals in society to realize that a disability does not define or

mean anything about a person and accept an individual who has a

disability without labelling them. Rather, it is part of their identity and

only part of their identity, nothing else.

Jessica Maj

39

Dear Disability,

You impact me by needing extra help with learning such as having a

scribe, and computer to help with writing skills. I am diagnosed with

Fetal Alcohol Syndrome. Multitasking and anxiety levels are difficult

for me to handle. I believe in God’s eyes that we as people are all the

same. Disability or no disability does not make a difference to our

being. God sees us for who we are. The outside does not matter as

much as the inside.

When I paint bright, happy colours that tells other people that I’m a

happy and a positive person, and that I care about other people. It’s

better to be positive, that really makes a difference in somebody’s life.

I was at Studio C for a short time and experimented with watercolor.

I encountered collage through using magazines, sketching and color. I

met Matthew Carberry at In-Definite Arts Society. He works

alongside In-Definite Arts Society. I encountered In-Definite Arts

Society in 2004 and have been making art for 11 years with this

organization. In-Definite Arts Society is an organization that is

dedicated to helping students with disabilities become great artists.

My interests at In-Definite Arts Society are using the materials of

acrylic paint, fibre art, ceramic art, and stain glass. I love using bright

colors and shapes. These shapes were made out of glass. Creating art

at In-Definite Arts Society makes me feel very good and safe, working

with caring people.

As of last year I have camped at Camp Horizon. Camp Horizon is an

organization that helps people with disabilities experience camping,

and swimming, rope course, and arts and crafts. I enjoy the arts and

craft, and singing at camp fires. I am a good ambassador for the

Stampede parade. I wear a cowboy hat and say “Yahoo” and blow my

train whistle. I feel safe around positive people with caring energy and

creative people who are passionate about making art. I am a positive

and happy person because of my art.

Tony Goodison

40

Dear Disability,

I have just started at In-Definite Arts Society, and enjoy making art

with needle and thread. In-Definite Arts Society got me out of the

house, and doing something I enjoy. I have been able to make new

friends, and bond with fellow artists. Being at In-Definite Arts Society

has helped me try new things. I have experimented with clay and

paint. I make clay bowls and paint landscapes. I have exhibited with

an exhibit titled “Rock on and Hung-loose”. It made me proud to be

part of an exhibit.

I need direction from the creative facilitators at In-Definite Arts

Society to follow art processes. I love working with felt markers. I

enjoy bright colours and brightening up my artwork. I enjoy my time

at In-Definite Arts Society. It helps me grow as an artist.

Anil Singh

41

Dear Disability,

I have been with In-Definite Arts Society for over 15 years, for as long

as I can remember. I enjoy experimenting with clay and embroidery.

Art has allowed me to express myself, and learn something new. I

needed an activity to do during the week and I chose this program

because I like making art. I have trouble putting together complete

thoughts and writing sentences.

Writing and art are my passions; I am working on a book and hope

to publish the book one day. I am writing the book at Columbia

College. My book is about two brothers who were raised in foster

care. The older brother is a police officer and he is searching to find

their parents. The book is 527 pages. The book was composed with

eight books from the dollar store about two brothers.

I participate with Columbia College writing as part of a day program

for people with disabilities. This helps me to reach out to

communities and practice writing. I have brain injury and seizures

and a kidney transplant. I got ill when I was two and a half. My dad

gave me one of his kidneys. I am one of the longest transplant

recipients in Alberta. I get seizures from being worn out. I train at the

Y and use their gym facilities to build stamina and endurance. I did

two of the longest cross country ski races in Special Olympics. I won

gold in one of the races and got moved up a division in the other

race. I cannot believe that I had this experience of racing. I did not

know I could do it at first. Technique and determination, building

stamina and endurance has moved me forward to achieve racing.

Vanessa Zytaruk

42

Dear Disability,

I enjoy using clay at In-Definite Arts Society. After high school I came

to In-Definite Arts Society to further my art practice. I practice art

making, and learn business skills through In-Definite Arts Society. I

have experimented with sketching, thread and needle, and felt

markers. These materials are an easier process to learn. I need

processes to be simplified, broken down into steps, and explained to

me by one of the creative facilitators at In-Definite Arts Society. I

make art that comes from my heart and my soul. I am a passionate

businessman and creator. Make art that represents my heart and soul.

My passion for art started with acrylic painting. I enjoy how acrylic

paint blends together. Acrylic gives me the freedom to be messy and

experiment and have fun. Art making helps me become an

entrepreneur.

In March 2015 I painted playful watercolors of Phoenix. These

watercolors were put in an exhibition titled Views of Phoenix. I am

passionate about Phoenix because my girlfriend, Jody, has family

there, and we travel there together for holidays. I made two clay cars

for the exhibit Zoom! Vehicle Art. I enjoy modelling and working

with my hands to make art. This exhibit was shown at Champions

Career Centre. I am part of Wild Rose Custom Arts; this business is

how I sell my work. It’s a website that has pictures of the cars I made.

I admire my older brother; I look up to him because he helped me

with paperwork and learning about legal matters. My older brother

gave me the confidence to propose my art making and business. I am

passionate about the experience of making art.

Michael Robertson

43

Dear Disability,

My sister Jana and I were going to be triplets. I was hooked to my

other sister Amy who was stillborn. Amy was gaining blood while I

was losing blood. When I was born I received a blood transfusion in

my head so that I could live. Jana and I were both born premature

and we have developmental delays. I had meningitis shortly after I

was born. My coordination was affected and so was my short-term

memory and speech. I had apraxia for many years and I had to go to

speech lessons until my adult years.

My parents did everything to make sure that we would succeed. Jana

and I only went to private schools for elementary school and high

school. Renfrew Educational Services and Calgary Academy helped

me succeed with my education and diverse learning needs despite my

disability.

I have a great love of reading and earned a Library Information

Technology Diploma from SAIT Polytechnic. My disability affected

my ability to learn and adjust to new jobs. I have been working with

Prospect to find employment in a Library-related career. I have

succeeded in that area with finding a place to start working that will

eventually lead to a library position. I will be working as a Lunchroom

Supervisor with the Calgary Board of Education.

I’m not ashamed of my disability. I still don’t like the word disabled

but I’m learning to grow more confident in my abilities as a person

and I know that I can succeed despite my disability and the challenges

that come along with it.

Yours Truly,

Chloe Brodkin

44

Dear Disability,

I’ve been at In-Definite Arts Society for fifteen years; I enjoy making

art, and connecting with fellow artists. I am interested in fibre and

ceramic art; I enjoy embroidery using needle and thread to make an

image. I have made three pillows, and clay animals. My clay animals

have been shown at In-Definite Arts Society. I have cerebral palsy

and In-Definite Arts Society helped strengthen my hands. I have

epilepsy and was diagnosed when I was ten. I have a curved spine and

need braces to align the spine. This curve started when I was 12. I

wore the braces for two years, and this helped me to be less hunched

over while I grew.

I like to challenge myself in my art practice, and make new subjects

with fibre. I push myself and strive to keep working till the fibre piece

is completed to my satisfaction. I am interested in realism and having

the thread portray precision. I have put artwork in the Stampede

grounds. I made a fibre wheel out of buttons and coloured thread. I

was interviewed after making the wheel about the process. It was a

challenge for me to use directions threading over and under to make

the wheel shape. I have also experimented with using a loom and

made a table runner for my parents.

My parents and sister and roommates have supported my art practice.

I have inherited my grandmother’s artistic ability. My grandmother

did both fibre and painting as a hobby. As a child I saw my

grandmother’s work, and she was always working with needle and

thread. This encouraged me to work in a similar process. I am part of

Between Friends which is a group of people with disabilities who do

activities together such as camping trips, and going to Clayground to

paint. Between Friends is six days out of the month in which these

activities occur. I will be attending two weekend getaways to do

camping at Pigeon Lake.

Heather Jackson

45

Contributor Notes

Sebastien Blais – Wandering soul, lover of history, addicted to black

metal. After years of addiction and mental health issues, he finally

settled down in Calgary, Alberta, joined the Empact program and had

his first ever art show at Studio C in September, 2015.

Myriah Cotroneo - Myriah was born in Calgary, Alberta, where she

has lived ever since. She has always pursued the arts while staying

open to different opportunities. Myriah began writing when she was

young, often writing short stories accompanied by paintings. While

Myriah did not pursue a career in the creative arts, she still pursues

her interest in emotionally powered poetry. She also is an avid

painter, turning her stories into a visual representation only. Myriah

holds a diploma in Esthetics, which furthered her passion for beauty,

but still continues on an artistic and emotionally fueled path through

her personal work.

Jen Chester - I’ve been through some struggles but am so thankful for

those who have stuck by me and have contributed such great things

into my life. I wouldn't have made it as far as I have without my

people. I am better because of them.

Timothy Dreger - Tim has a keen interest in the sciences, and has

chosen a career in petroleum engineering. However, due to the

current state of the industry, he questions if this was the wisest choice.

He is a dedicated problem solver, having a mind for details with a

great deal of knowledge and experience in his field. Tim is known to

be a non-conformist, and likes to think critically "outside the box".

He dares to be different, never taking an easy stance. Tim likes to

teach and mentor others, and strives to be a positive influence.

Tim has had an interest in creative writing since early high school.

He likes to put a comic bend on just about everything.

46

Berni Gazzard – Berni was inspired by a new friend to write this

thoughtful letter at ArtRecruits. ArtRecruits has been a very powerful

support and tool for Berni and she feels that it has helped her thrive.

After a creative writing workshop through the program, she now

aspires to continue writing.

Jordan Gerlitz - Jordan is 29 years old. He was born 1986 in Calgary,

Alberta and lives in Calgary Alberta. He’s had onset epilepsy for 4

years.

Matthew Grawbarger - Matthew is a seventh generation

Canadian. Born and raised in Calgary Alberta. He loves wildlife,

nature and animals. He believes in the adage: "We do not inherit the

Earth from our forebears, we borrow it from seven generations into

the future."

TYH - TYH completed the Oct 2014 ArtRecruits program in

Calgary, and the pieces included were written during his time there

and during a "Creative Journaling" class that he attended in early 2015.

Other than his initials, he wishes to remain anonymous.

Moira McKellar - Moira attended the ArtRecruits program.

Kyle Norman - Kyle has been artistic since a young age. However it

wasn't until he was 13 years old that his artistic talents started to

flourish. At 13 years old Kyle was hospitalized for an "eating

disorder." At this time Kyle spent his days laying in a hospital bed, his

only source of entertainment being the TV in his room. Upon

request, Kyle decided to join in on some of the group activities that

the hospital was putting on, most notably the artistic ones such as

painting and drawing. Since then Kyle has enjoyed making art in all

forms such as drawing, writing, painting, music, sculpting, pottery,

graphic design, and has even dabbled in video game design. Kyle's

dream career is to be in 2d and 3d animation. Kyle has attended the

ArtRecruits group at Studio C in 2015 during where his works for this

anthology were written.

47

Tracy Pacholok - Tracy has been a self-taught hobbyist for many

years as an artist and vocalist/lyricist. From charcoal and watercolor

painting, to performing in several rock bands in and around the city;

she hopes to one day expand on these arts from hobbyist to

professional.

Morgan M. Paul - Morgan was inspired at a young age by his aunt

Jacquie Paul. Her encouragement helped Morgan grow into an artist

on the canvas and paper. Shortly after his twentieth birthday, Morgan

was diagnosed with Schizophrenia, which impacted his social and

artistic life. While enroute to recovery, Morgan attended ArtRecruits,

a program built to help people with mental illness attain job skills

through art, and later was asked to guest speak at a mental health

conference about his illness and recovery through art. Morgan has

previously written an autobiography, "Break from Reality" (2014), and

consistently pursues his dream of becoming an artist.

Colleen Peters - Artist at Play - Once upon a time, there was a little

girl named Colleen. She liked to climb trees and pick chamomile.

She knew she was an artist since she drew her first frog at age six.

When she grew up she experimented with painting, printmaking and

weaving in addition to other forms of art, poetry, song writing and

dance. She always loved colour more than anything else. Her

favourite place to write poetry was the Writing Program at Calgary

Association of Self Help. She has published some poetry in

Celebrations by the Writer's Club Program. Colleen loves to display

her work and hopes you enjoy it! She has shown her visual art work at

Art Point, Art Central, The Marion McGrath Gallery, in the juried

Spark Disability Arts Festival, Caprices Art Show, and Fisher of Men

Art Show. You can contact Colleen at artistatplay111@gmail.com

Mary Salvani - Mary is a writer and human rights advocate. Her

poem, "I Am A Person" has been featured at the University of

Calgary's Stop Racism event and website, International Women's day,

and International Day of Disabled Persons in Calgary. More of

Mary's poems can be found on her blog

http://writersareartist.blogspot.com

48

Back cover art by Sebastien Blais

Prehistoria 1

acrylic on canvas

June/July, 2015

49

Chloe Brodkin

Jana Brodkin

Matthew Carberry

Jen Chester

Myriah Cotroneo

Timothy Dreger

Berni Gazzard

Jordan Gerlitz

Tony Goodison

Matthew Grawbarger

Heather Jackson

Jessica Maj

Moira McKellar

Kyle Norman

Tracy Pacholok

Morgan M. Paul

Colleen Peters

Michael Robertson

Mary Salvani

Anil Singh

Paula Timm

TYH

William

Vanessa Zytaruk