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Appreciation

Stella De Genova

Blind Artist Vision: blog by Stella De Genova


I was a little curly haired girl, wearing glasses at 6 years old.  People thought I was a little clumsy, often bumping into and tripping over things, but my parents were finding out that I could not see well.  Some of my favorite memories are when I think of how Mom and Dad treated me – the same as everyone else!  I was never made to feel like I had any sort of disability and they never stopped me from pursuing what I loved.

 

From as early as I can remember, I had stacks of drawing pads and coloring books along with a great assortment of crayons and colored pencils, always showing my mom my masterpieces.  Due to my low vision, I was never into sports, but how I loved to draw and color!  Reading was also a love of mine and trips to the library were actually exciting to me.  Seeing at a distance or what was in my peripheral were difficult, and I could see basically nothing in the dark, but seeing up close was still manageable and enjoyable.

 


A black and white drawing titled "Summer on the Lake.jpg." The artwork depicts a serene lakeside scene with trees in the foreground and a body of water and distant shoreline in the background.
Summer on the Lake (1987)

 

As  I got older, my parents could see that my love for art was only growing stronger.  I took all of the art classes I could take in high school and my dad would always drive me to the art supply store.  By the way, an artist in a art supply store is like a kid in a candy shop.  You always want more!

 

Once high school was finished, I started art school at the American Academy of Art and also a night pottery class at the Art Institute.  My dad, who knew the streets of the city like the back of his hand, drove me to see where I was going so that I could then get there myself on the bus.

 

As I’ve mentioned before, my lack of confidence in my own artistic abilities thwarted my art education efforts. I also stopped the night class because there was construction being done around the school grounds at the time, and one night when my father was picking me up, I almost fell into a cavernous hole in the street while getting to the car. 

 


A painting depicting a person wrapped in a purple, cocoon-like form, sitting on green ground with tree roots extending from it. The background features bare trees with branches reaching out against a blue sky. The style is illustrative and colorful, with a focus on nature and introspection.
Family Trees (1994)

 

Well, my formal education stopped but never my love for art. Even when life was hectic while raising my kids and trying my best to keep doing my job as a legal secretary as long as my vision allowed, art was always my respite.  When I finally had to stop working, art was and continues to be my therapy and meditation.  I truly believe in creative therapies: art, music, writing, and gardening/ horticulture.  These are outlets that bring quiet connection and peace to our minds and we can enjoy the effort and appreciate the fruits of our labor.

 

Once I did stop working in the conventional sense, my art is what led me to a new path in my life.  Going back to art instruction and experimenting on my own has led me to new discoveries in the world and in myself. 


Now, my mom has passed away and my dad is 93 years old.  They always remained my biggest fans and what I love and appreciate most is that they gave me the space and opportunity to grow, no matter my lack of vision.


A black and white photo of my mom, facing the camera and smiling with dark brunette, above shoulder length hair.  She is wearing a small pearl necklace.
Photo of my mother (circa 1967)

 


A historical painting of a man standing in front of a brick wall. He is leaning against a door with one arm extended. The man is wearing a white unbuttoned shirt with rolled-up sleeves with a white undershirt and dark pants.  Suggestion of a hot day in the city.
Dad, circa 1948 (2021)


Current photo of my dad in a kitchen, focused on preparing homemade Italian sausage. He is wearing a patterned shirt and is using a knife to cut the meat on a counter.
Photo of my father (2022)





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