Making Friends While Making Art

I'm so jazzed; very soon I'll be starting a new art open house series at the Ground Zero Teen Center in Bellevue. It's a great, welcoming place for teens to gather after school. The center is housed in what used to be a church, with funky corners and angles in unexpected places, and there's a friendly, laid-back, all-inclusive vibe. It's run on a shoestring, but the people in charge do a great job and set a welcoming but low-key tone. It'll be lovely to work with them and the kids.

Ground Zero is a very musical place. There are frequent concerts and people take music lessons there (my daughter goes there for electric guitar lessons with terrific local musician Amy Stolzenbach). There's often music wafting out the doors, a TV droning in the back room, a friendly dog or two wandering through the building and greeting anyone and everyone, and a snack waiting for hungry teens who wander in after school. Even the bathrooms are places of free expression; walls are covered in chalkboard paint and big sticks of sidewalk chalk invite people to draw or write what they feel. They have free practice rooms available for kids with bands to use, and they serve a big dinner once a week. There are posters everywhere reminding people that it's a place of tolerance, respect and kindness, and materials are prominently posted to help kids find information and people to talk to if they're having troubles. It's clear that there are people ready to help kids move in the right direction if they get lost. It feels safe and homey.

The center's walls have a few examples of teen art that crackle with energy and show how much their creators wanted to express what they feel through making something with their hearts and hands. Teens are often spilling over with a hunger to put their feelings into some positive form. I can't wait to see what they come up with during my time with them.

During October I expect to start drop-in art clinic afternoons. I'll bring in a different assortment of art supplies and cool materials the kids may not have easy access to elsewhere, and I'll share a variety of my own works and lots of other sources of inspiration and ideas. Sometimes I'll offer up illustrations of classic and important pieces, and if they're up for it we can talk about what makes them important and whether we actually like them or not. But I also want to bring in examples of art that we take for granted, stuff we find on clothing and packaging and magazines, and point out that they're works of art, too. I'll ask them to share what they find beautiful, and to talk about art that speaks to us even when we find it ugly. I'll work on something in real time, and show them what I'm up to, see what ideas they have, and we can talk about what works for us and what doesn't, how to work around what feel like artistic weaknesses or restrictions, and what is meaningful to them.

My daughter Lily creates intricate, glorious digital artworks with Photoshop. She'll be bringing in examples of her work, too, to spark discussion and to broaden our teen allure. She'll be my trusty sidekick, helping me set things up, making sure everybody's got what they need, and making our space more approachable; someone my age sitting alone at a table with a bunch of funky art supplies might not be as appealing to teens without another actual teen showing interest. Lily's comfortable working in many media, too, so she and I can dive in each week to break the ice.

If kids have no interest in my ideas for the day, that's absolutely fine; the last thing they need is for me to impose my visions on them or make them feel like they have to do things a certain way. I don't want to lecture or talk my way through the whole thing, just to make it easier for them to jump in and try things, get new ideas, see what gets other people excited and ask themselves what they find beautiful or meaningful. So often students feel forced to mimic other people's work or accept other people's beliefs and ideas at face value instead of asking themselves what they truly believe, what matters most, and what they can give to the world and feel good about. I want to help them to feel safe exploring these ideas. We all need to be reminded that beauty comes in many forms, and that our work doesn't have to be perfect to be beautiful.

Ooga Chakka

I have a brilliant idea. Let's create a new musical genre based on the opening to the song "Hooked on a Feeling." Yeah, a whole branch of popular music that incorporates the chant "Ooga chakka, ooga, ooga, ooga chakka" in the background of any song, old or new, from Bach's "Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring" to Amy Winehouse's "Rehab." (Try it; it works.) If you're really daring, make an ubercheesy video of yourself acting as stupid as humanly possible, heavy on the ooga chakkas. C'mon, baby, I dare you. Look, it worked for David Hasselhoff.