Red and Green Show by Ashly Longanecker

YOU GOTTA BE THERE
A Widow Bit – May 2, 2010
By Mary Koch

            There are times I show up when I really don’t want to be there, attending events like concerts, plays or art exhibits. Maybe I’m not in the mood or I fear disappointment.

             I go anyway. If you live in a small, rural community where support of the arts is tenuous at best, it’s vital to simply show up. And every once in a while, it pays off like a mega lottery.

            I was doing my duty last week when I went to a high school art exhibit—a graduating senior’s solo show. I knew she’d won a state award at some point but still, we’re talking high school. I planned to put in an appearance, congratulate everybody and hightail it out of there.

            What I hadn’t anticipated was Ashly Longanecker’s stunning art. For one thing, she’s prolific. The gallery was filled to the max with her work. I half expected the walls to start trembling from the vibrant colors and dynamic compositions. At first glance, Ashly’s paintings look like the enthusiastic creations of a small child. But when you get up close, you discover meticulous pen strokes, millions of tiny black and white circles and near-microscopic lines that represent untold hours of concentrated effort. Beyond description, really.

            Ashly’s subject matter ranges from the abstract, to the world around her, to personal relationships—both inner and outer. I was so taken by her several self-portraits that I purchased one. It wasn’t labeled “self-portrait,” but was readily identifiable. Ashly has an exceptional appearance—the kind of appearance that might prompt strangers to label or dismiss her. She is a special education student, graduating by virtue of reaching age 21—the age when she is no longer eligible for public education. She does not speak normally, but as the show title affirmed, her art is “A New Language.”

            In the self-portrait I chose, Ashly used black ink to shape her smiling features with thousands of tiny lines and circles. Then she picked up the paintbrush to encircle herself with a patchwork rainbow of bold color. When I brought the painting home, I propped it on a chair and was startled to realize I was seeing myself.

            Psychiatrist and author Jean Shinoda Bolen suggests that we have strong reactions to certain people because they represent something significant about ourselves. Our reactions are about us, not them. We may not like some people because they express experiences we repress, or we may be drawn to others because they embody a potential, or positive qualities that are growing in us. It’s our job to figure out our reaction.

            The self I see in Ashly’s portrait is the child I was at around 5, the child who is still part of me, yearning to be nurtured, acknowledged and liberated. It’s sublime, connecting with a woman of a very different age and circumstance, simultaneously connecting with my inner self in the same way she was connecting with hers.

             It never would have happened if I hadn’t shown up.