Extraordinary People

"The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars..." ~Jack Kerouac

I have encountered a number of extraordinary people throughout my life; they include members of my family, extended family, a handful of close friends, and a few teachers. People who recognize the beauty, strength, confidence, and determination in my character. One of these people was my high school art teacher and college counselor Mary Anne Modzelewski. From the moment I walked into her Art I class in 9th grade she smothered me in her compassion, unconditional support, and love; just as she did with every one of her students. She cheered me on in my pursuit to attend the Kansas City Art Institute, her husband's alma mater, determined whole-heartedly that I was destined for greatness not only in the arts, but in life as well. 

Mary Anne's husband, Steve, was someone I only met once when I was in high school, and whose character I only got a glimpse of when it was too late: at the memorial service marking the tragic, unexpected end of his life. The service was not a eulogy of past successes and accomplishments, but rather a celebration of the great spirit rooted in every part of his being. I was able to determine that had I been given the opportunity to spend more time with him, he would have been another one of those unusual souls whose presence I would be blessed to be in. I learned that Mr. Modz was by nature introspective and somewhat shy (characteristics I also see in myself); he was constantly looking everything with a critical eye, burning with passion, inspiration, ideas, and humble enthusiasm. I have never grieved or felt so deeply for someone I barely knew. 

Last week I had a dream about Steve. What I remember most profoundly is Mr. Modz was doing what he loved--teaching; I was one of his students and he was unbelievably energetic about whatever it was he was demonstrating for the class. Coincidentally, a day or so later I received an email from Ms. Modz telling me she wanted to give me some of Steve's art supplies and books. I went to Ms. Modz's house today to retrieve the gifts she had chosen for me. I received a gorgeous wooden box filled with three layers of pastels--something she had picked out for me because she remembered the beautiful pastel works I had done in high school. She gave me a stack of various types of hand-made paper, a group of which she had bought for Steve on a trip to Paris. And on top of all that, a book titled Sketchbook for the Artist, essentially a guidebook for drawing the world around us--a practice Steve engaged in religiously and daily. I felt extremely honored that she had thought of me for all these things.

The timing of all of this has been interesting; having been in a "creative slump" for the past few months, I have not had the desire or motivation to make anything. When I tried to create projects it was forced, thus making it unfulfilling. Having made a choice to devote my life to being a creative person, this has been heart-wrenching. Receiving Steve's supplies, those that once belonged to such a passionate person, having been able to learn so much about and be able to identify so closely with someone I never knew, I believe is a sign that I should seek the inspiration to see, create, and do feverishly once again. It was a difficult and invigorating day; I cried almost the entire length of my hour-long drive home, filled with emotions of sadness, anger, the harsh reminder that life is short and the necessity to live passionately.  

"The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances: if there is any reaction, both are transformed." ~C. G. Jung