Gillian Barnes

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Pieces of Gillian

We all owe pieces of ourselves to others.

I credit my parents (I have three for those who are unaware) for many of the habits that have made me successful, so today, I will leave them out of the puzzle.

If you read my blog from the other night, you know that I went to a reading. One thing I neglected to mention however, was a relationship between the presenter and her former mentee and now friend. Christine Schutt was introduced by an Endicott College professor who was once her student. It was very moving to hear her credit Schutt with helping to mold her into who she is today. So, with that in mind, I would like to share some of the people who have made me...me.

Jennifer Whitten

Jennifer has perhaps been the most influential and decidedly different person I've ever experienced. I am Type A, and she is Type B. I am impatient, and she is quite literally, a pastor with unlimited patience. I am a forceful person with rock hard opinions, and she is someone who enjoys seeing things from different angles without judgement.

Somehow, despite all of our differences, she's become a mentor and friend with whom I can go months, even years without speaking with, and still come to for a cup of tea and conversation.

When I first met Jennifer, she was my boss. I worked for her in the then Writing Studio (it has since changed names) at my college. I am still unsure of what made her hire me. I had writing skills, but in my opinion (and as you know, I have many), I was a bit of a punk in my earlier years. I don't think I'm alone by saying past Gillian could've used some perspective...but, I digress.

Jennifer hired me and helped me work through my own writing while I assisted others. She somehow made me see my writing as a strangely flexible, artistic moment, rather than a collection of words. Sure, she knew nuts and bolts, but Jennifer was about big ideas and connections. Under her tutelage, my writing blossomed in ways it never had before.

So, needless to say, when I first began to write a novel, I brought it to her. She did not correct it. She read it and began asking me questions about where it was going. I immediately went home and wrote the most interesting prologue ever. It is, to-date, the best part of my book.

She told me nothing, and everything. I really value my connection with her. She is a channeler of creative energy.

Gary Samson

I have not written about this yet, so speaking in reference to Schutt's "cost" concept, here we go! In my freshmen year, my art review went extremely badly. I had lost my way, and though I had come to school for photography, I had switched to illustration in semester one. I now know that the instinct for that change was rooted in my love for graphic design, but at the time, I felt my choice was solid. It was not.

One professor (who shall remain nameless to protect their identity) said this about my work:

"You would have to paint and draw every hour of every day to be good enough to be at high school entrance level for our program. The only good piece on the wall is this photograph."

Yikes. Talk about a dagger. I swear, right then and there that I wanted to melt into the floor. How could I have been so off my track? But then, right when I felt I deserved to be a puddle, Gary said:

"I know this is hard now, but if you would like to come back to our program, we would be happy to have you."

I held back tears and said I would think about it. With all the restraint I could muster, I walked confidently out of the door, down the stairs, down the road, into my dorm, and into my room where I let it all go. I cried for what seemed like a day, but then the next day, I switched my major back to photography.

I was instantaneously happier. Over the next few years, I would learn a lot from Gary. He taught me how to see people fully. He taught me how to use photography as a tool and as an art. He taught me science. He showed me the craft.

While I rarely take photographs anymore, I appreciate the opportunity I received to learn about connections with people using a lens. I owe that to Gary (and to Bev Conway, but that is another post for another day).

Dean Scott

Before Gary, and before Jennifer, there was Dean Scott. Dean was my high school art teacher. He is legitimately the reason I chose to care about my work at all.

Though I am competitive in some ways, I never thought to submit my artwork for scholarships. I mainly wrote essays. Dean quite literally matted my pieces and pushed me toward applying for a Gold Key, which I earned. I owe him that key.

I also owe him my first successful self-portrait. I struggled with seeing myself and therefore, I couldn't draw one. He told me to trace a photograph to understand the lines of my face, then tear it up and start a new drawing. He broke the spell of the fake Gillian. Without him, I would've been stuck drawing a "self-portrait" of some beat up shoes. I'm glad it didn't have to go down that way.

I owe many things to many people, but when I think of pivot points; moments that changed me, these three come forward as the change-makers. Thank you.