Minnesota Prairie Roots

OH, DEER, I thought to myself Thursday evening. And then about an hour later, I thought, oh, dear.

What prompted this deer/dear thinking? First, an actual deer running through my neighborhood. And then an attempt to try a new art form at a community event.

First the deer. Shortly after 5 p.m., I noticed a rather long-legged dog running down the middle of the side street alongside my house. I live on a corner lot. I quickly realized this was not a canine, but rather a deer. This neighborhood deer spotting was a first in 40 years of living at this location.

The large deer cut across the corner of my neighbor’s yard before dashing into busy Willow Street during rush hour. And, yes, there is rush hour traffic in the early morning and then when folks are on their way home from work. Go ahead and laugh if you live in a metro area.

Thankfully, drivers were alert enough to slow down and give the deer some space. It continued northbound, right along the center line, until I lost sight of the animal. It apparently escaped unscathed (perhaps to the nearby woods along the river) as I did not see roadkill while en route to my “oh, dear” moment. I can only imagine how thankful that deer was to return to his natural habitat.

An hour later I arrived at the Cathedral of Our Merciful Saviour for free hands-on art activities offered by the Paradise Center for the Arts as part of the weekly summertime Concerts in the Park series. Due to endless rain, the arts event and concert were moved from the park across the street to the Cathedral.

Once there, I had art choices: drawing, felting, working on a collaborative project or “making a book.” I heard the word “book” and I was in. Except it wasn’t creating a book, but rather learning basics of design for a mini-book. After watching for a moment, I grabbed a red folding chair and settled onto a corner of the crowded table. Teaching artist Rhonda Norgaard handed me a thick black Sharpie and scraps of colorful paper. At that moment, I didn’t quite grasp the concept of what I should be doing.

I should pause here to admit that my confidence level was about zero. My friend Paula drew a lovely free-hand bird and tree on a colorful bookmark-size paper scrap. Kids were bent over their papers, too, happily creating. Me? This was not my wheelhouse. I create art with words and my camera, not with scraps from expired calendars, Sharpies and gel pens.

But, by then I was semi-committed to giving this unfamiliar art form a try. I began outlining flowers in black, attempting to make this my own. It looked OK. Then I added words, because, well, it needed words and I am a writer. I added plant, hope, bloom. I would later learn that, like me, hope is Rhonda’s favorite word.

I was hearing encouraging words from Rhonda and from others. When I had done all I could with the black Sharpie, I stepped away to check on my husband’s progress. He was drawing with charcoal pencils. Definitely not my wheelhouse.

Back at Rhonda’s station, a white gel pen was finally available for my use. As white flowed from the fine tip of the pen, I began feeling more confident. I liked what I saw, how the white added to the design. Rhonda admitted that she wanted to suggest I outline in white, but thought I might be offended. Nope, not offended. I was here to learn.

As I worked, I commented how soothing this was. Relaxing, added Rhonda. I’d done it—stepped outside of my creative comfort zone. Already, I’m imagining picking up gel pens and Sharpies and creating greeting cards using recycled paper. Now I just need some expired paper calendars…

© Copyright 2024 Audrey Kletscher Helbling