I have much to learn. Shouldn’t learning come naturally to a teacher? After all, I put myself through seven years of university after my thirteen years of public education. But alas no, I am only recently experimenting with how to learn through the hard places when one might otherwise want to shut down, point a finger, or run away. I am learning that this is where we can learn the best of gems.

I am recently using the word ‘artist’ to describe myself. With many other words of suitable definition, this is a new one. I was always an artist … drawing, coloring, crafting and writing, but somehow I followed another path, one that I thought would be better. It was a journey and indeed it landed me where I am now, so it was good.

After becoming a mother for the second time in 2012, I began to feel a stirring begging me to speak and write. After surrender to this call, I now find myself embarking on a path as a spoken word artist. This brings me joy, although there are many times when my ego voice tries hard to dissuade me from sharing my spirit. I persevere.

I do believe that good art is a form of sharing one’s spiritual gifts. I have taken recently to meditations around the image and concept of a tree. As a tree bears fruit, an artist creates and shares their fruit. This is hard for many artists.

It happened in amazing fashion one day when I met a woman who is a nun. We struck up a conversation about my young son whom she could not see as her eyesight is failing, but she asked if she could touch his head. I allowed her and she was overjoyed. We talked about children and the promise for a better future that they carry. I told her that I wrote and performed poetry about peace, hope, love, healing and self worth, and she shared that she is a literature professor from Vancouver, Eastside. How is that for an enchanted encounter?

I later came to meet another man one afternoon. He needed help with the top button of his very colorful shirt. He reminded me in some way of my recently departed father-in-law. We got talking and I learned that he was a fan of theatre. I told him that I perform and he told me that he meets every Monday to share poetry with a nun. I asked him which nun and low and behold, it was the same one I had just met!

The new friend suggested that I join them for a poetry session and I was eager. I did meet with these two fine folks and what transpired was most fruitful. They read parts from a poem called In Memoriam by Alfred Lord Tennyson. What a piece! I am grateful for the chance to connect with such great literature. We listened to some music, Gloria of the Saint Cecilia Mass by Charles Gounod, and then it was my turn to share some poetry.

My husband had wondered how it would be to bridge my modern form of poetry with a much more classical style. Well, though many themes and words are the same through the ages, “slam poetry” is much different from what these two elders had ever heard. They clearly enjoyed my message and delivery. They were encouraging, but then the gentleman said that it would take him a long time to get used to the rhythm of this style. I was slightly unnerved. I must have imagined that I would only get rave reviews.

I was a little defensive as I suggested that today’s youth speak quickly because our world is so fast paced … that I must meet a person where they are if I want to catch their attention. He agreed but wondered if I might consider asking my audience to consider my messages rather than popular ones of the world. I assured him that this was my plan. He said that I was young and I would have plenty of time to get used to a varied response to my works. Though slightly hurt, I soon realized that I had just had a deeper lesson. I thanked them for their time and sharing, and we agreed to meet again.

As I walked away, I reflected on why valuable feedback hurts and I came back to my meditations on the fruit tree. An artist’s work is fruit born of their own tree. As a fruit sampler tastes the fruit, it can be hard to hear remarks about that fruit. Actually, the tree could care less what anybody thinks about its fruit! It may be that somebody comes to appreciate the fruit after several tastings or perhaps the fruit is just not for them. This does not make the fruit any less valuable. This is where many artists suffer.

My brother is a painter and he struggles with painting for commission versus painting from his heart. I have told him that the best art comes from the heart only. He, like me, has much to learn. I recently met another artist, a card maker, and she shared that she no longer sells her photography because people did not realize that it was a piece of her that she was trying to sell. As I continue my new journey as an artist with words, I truly hope that I can remember to keep my own fruit as I grow it and trust that those who need it will find it … those who need to grow to like it will, and those who do not will find other fruit. It is a huge world filled with so many great trees!

As for receiving feedback, I have much to learn. We all do. It is often in the hardest places that we find the best of graces. This man, my new friend, has given me so much already. I ran home and wrote an excellent poem about slowing down and I can’t wait to read it to him next time!

Carlie Kilduff
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