The Transformative Power of Art: A Visit to Tamarack

“Do you still feel up for going to the Tamarack?” my husband asked.

A Heavy Heart and a Planned Escape 🚘

Days earlier, we had loosely planned a day trip. The goal was to stop in Charleston for brunch on the way to Beckley, to nose around the galleries and marketplace of the Tamarack, and then return home, making a couple of quick errand stops along the way. Unfortunately, my spirit had been bruised by life, as sometimes happens, but despite feeling down, I agreed to go in the hopes it would be a pleasant distraction.

The brunch and drive along the WV Turnpike were heavy, filled with somber, clarifying conversation as my husband tried to help me clean out the closet of my cluttered heart. Tumbled, but not fully dried from an onslaught of despair, I entered the Tamarack lightened by our discussion, but still damp with distress. My intention from the outset was not to make a purchase, but instead soak up the vibrant and creative energy of the art, and by proxy the artists, who created it. 

Echoing my own feelings, Stella Adler stated, “Life beats down and crushes the soul and art reminds you that you have one.

Entering the Tamarack: A Sensory Shift

Once through the doors, I observed a crowd of people and wondered if this had been a good idea after all. Meandering to the right of the entrance, I surfed the sensory wave. Aromas of Appalachian-inspired cooking filled the air. A long line of people snaked around the fast-casual dining room as I made my way to the ladies’ room. Tamarack’s signature circular shape surrounding an open courtyard created a light and spacious feeling, even during this busy, pre-holiday time period. A multitude of glass windows, adorned with locally designed, gemstone-colored stained glass pieces, radiated an additional cheery warmth. The animated energy of visitors’ conversation added a rhythmic pulse to a popular sing-along soundtrack playing in the background. 

Letting the Atmosphere Settle the Spirit

As I allowed the wave to immerse me, I soon noticed that my breathing and pulse had slowed, tensions were eased, and the emotional flames were beginning to quell. Despite my earlier qualms, I could feel the atmosphere offering a form of calming consolation. The simple act of getting lost in the admiration and appreciation for each artist, and the art pieces they created, nourished my spirit. 

Wandering the Galleries: Beauty in Every Craft 🖼️

Allowing the natural flow of the galleries to pull me along, I took in richly detailed textiles and exquisite, delicate glass pieces. There were complex and intricate woodworks and artisanal earthen and pottery wares. Tables of WV grown and/or crafted wines, beers, ciders, soaps, candles, and one-of-kind foods/beverages were also available. 

I also stopped by the book nook, filled with locally written fictional and nonfictional books, novellas, cook books, maps, travel guides, and other artfully written materials. Additionally, there was a separate gallery, bright with ample natural light, filled with one-of-a-kind WV paintings, sculptures, prints, and photographs. 

Art as Memory: Echoes of Loved Ones 👵🏼

Allowing the current of creativity to slowly move me at will, the art grounded me into the present moment as I mindfully soaked up the vibrant energy. Different pieces evoked precious memories of loved ones: quilts of my grandmother’s attic, pieces of furniture and toys handcrafted by my husband’s grandfathers, earthen dishes that were reminiscent of family holiday casseroles, paintings and photographs of forested hills during the fall and winter months similar to those I hiked with my siblings and father as a child, and hand sewn creations that my mother once made.

The Healing Power of Art 🎨

I was further reminded of the many art therapy majors with whom I had classes all those long ago years. They often described the important role of art in therapeutic and school settings, a truth supported by research. Creating art and observing art supports mental health and well-being.  It often helps with emotional regulation by creating an outlet in which emotions can be channeled. Art is known to reduce stress and is often used as a tool for creating a greater understanding of one’s emotional atmosphere. Works of art often create a connection/conversation between the creator and viewer, which can provide an opportunity for both personal and collective healing.

Creativity as Community Storytelling

This is because art, such as the works I viewed at Tamarack, is often a reflection of the emotional landscape of a community, region, or even country. How many colorful and varied life stories, events, and personalities, past and living, were being conveyed and connected all under one circular roof? Each stitch, stroke, cut, hammer strike, click, and spin breathed life into each creation that spoke to the heart and soul of human resilience and hope.

In the Company of Strangers: Shared Wonder

As I meandered through the gallery devoted to paintings and photographs, I often lingered on works that spoke to me. Simultaneously, I overheard a pair of women, who were gazing at a section of paintings by a Mingo County artist, speaking with near reverence about their own childhood experiences in the same area. Another couple whispered with one another at nearly every piece, laughing at the memories specific images seemed to evoke. 

Spaces of Belonging: More Than a Marketplace

It occurred to me that art galleries, like the Tamarack, create centers of belonging–gathering places that celebrate the human experience. These transactional spaces aren’t just about exchanging money; they also provide an interchange of ideas and stories between artist, piece, and viewer. Investing in these community hubs is an investment in one another, supporting each other emotionally and culturally. People leave the Tamarack with a taste of what it means to be Appalachian.

A Quiet Affirmation

Standing in that gallery, soaking up all of the intriguing and thought-provoking images, an employee shook me out of my reverie by asking if I was enjoying my visit. I nodded, stating that I was feeling lighter and more grounded than when I entered. She unpretentiously declared, “Art can do that for you.”

We chatted a bit more before I moved on to look through the prints outside the gallery. I still did not have any answers to my specific concerns, but I did have a sense of peace that comes from being heard. Not that I was literally heard; rather, the struggles and joys, the sadness and celebrations, and the wonder and the awe that went into creating these pieces “heard” and spoke to my own related emotions. It was the beginning of healing and hope that often happens when surrounded by reflections of inner beauty.

Leaving with Lightness and Hope

Thomas Merton is credited with stating, “Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time.” My visit to Tamarack allowed such a juxtaposition: by surrendering myself to time spent with art, my capacity for healing renewal was possible. It served as a reminder. When we immerse ourselves in the present moment, we kindle the still, small voice within, our hearts and minds steady at the sound of this whispering inner-knowing, and we can rest assured we are being held even when the heaviness of life weighs us down. Perhaps that is the gentle promise held within art: when life seems overwhelming and hopeless, the beauty of art and/or the creative process is there to offer us wings of hope for rising once more.

Through the eyes of a child

“Chin up, chin up. Everybody loves a happy face.’–E. B. White, Charlotte’s Web

“If in our daily life we can smile, if we can be peaceful and happy, not only we, but everyone will profit from it. This is the most basic kind of peace work.”–Thich Nhat Hanh

Landon and Grayson often greet me in the morning with bright-eyed smiles and plenty of discoveries about the morning.

One of the special joys in my life are the smiles of toddlers and young children at the school in which I work.  As an educator working on a school campus setting that provides care/education for children, ages 6-weeks through 12th grade in different buildings, I often see parents and other educators dropping off their children for daycare or preschool.  Some of the little ones are sleepy in the morning, others are crying, some are shy, and others walk in–or are carried in—with a smile on their face and a twinkle in their eye.  They jabber, babble, talk, or even sing with joy, depending upon their age/stage of development.  

I could be having a rough start to my day, but if I happen to walk through the campus parking lot alongside a staff member’s bright-eyed child, smile as wide as the sky itself, I can’t help but smile too.  Before long, the child has engaged me into a conversation, and all the previous negative energy of the morning fades.  I share in the delight of their discovery of a rock or a piece of mulch, and smile back enthusiastically when they show me their shoes, their mittens, or their hat.  They find happiness in the very things I tend to overlook or take for granted.

Then there are the babies–wrapped, swaddled, and layered into their parent’s arms.  Face peeking out over their caretaker’s shoulder, eyes blinking in the morning air.  Those large round orbs, of all shades, take me in, and then, as if I were a royal subject, reward me with a smile.  I can’t help but smile back.

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The babies, toddlers, and young children look at me and the scenario unfolding around them with fresh eyes and innate good cheer.  Eyes that are free from judgment.  Eyes that do see my age, my skin color, my size, or care about my socioeconomic status, religious/political affiliation, and so forth.  They only see me smiling back at them and hear my affirming voice.  

Possessing the ability to look at the world and others without motive is a powerful concept.  This is the lesson young children and babies teach, but because we are so busy, or our lives are so removed from young children, we miss the lesson.  Imagine, looking at each new day, event, person, even the great outdoors with fresh eyes.  What magic, what wonders, what friendly people do we miss because our brains have a tendency to be drawn to to-do lists, work, worries, irritations, conflicts, gossip, bad news, and so forth. 

However, children, until we teach them otherwise, are inherently open and accepting. They have no preconceptions about all the things we, as adults, begin to define, discern, and draw lines of division around.  A dog’s tail is a thing of wonder to a child.  Common dandelions are flower puffs to be plucked, sniffed, touched, and held as an object of fascination.  Birds are special creatures who fly and sing for their amusement. Time is of no consequence, and space is meant to be explored–be the space a sidewalk, yard, a floor, or even cabinets of a kitchen.

Miss Evalynn often greets me in the morning with bright, inquisitive eyes.

Of course, as adults, we cannot conduct ourselves exactly in the same manner as young children.  However, there are certain behaviors for which we can adopt and put into practice more often.  The first of which is smiling.  

The late Thich Nhat Hahn was once asked why someone should smile when they weren’t feeling happy.  He responded that smiling was a practice.  Hahn went on to explain that when we smile, we release tension from our face muscles which in turn releases body tension.  The less tension we have, the more we smile. And the more we smile, the more others notice, and in turn, they smile back, often initiating a chain event of others smiling too.  A smile, he explained, is “an ambassador of goodwill”.

The act of smiling is contagious, as Hahn pointed out, and a sincere smile has the potential to change the trajectory of a moment.  Imagine the power of one person smiling, which triggers another person to smile in response.  Then that person’s smile causes another person to smile, and so the chain continues.  This is the first lesson of young children.

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Another lesson of young children is viewing the world and others with an open mind:  Looking widely, listening carefully, and taking in your surroundings without jumping to conclusions and immediately passing judgment.  Obviously, there are certain situations in which quick judgements/decisions are required; however, by remaining a calm, lucid, and observant presence, the more likely a pragmatic outcome can be achieved.  

Appreciation for the small things is another lesson provided by children.  When my own daughter was young, we would sometimes walk through the woods.  Her dad’s pant’s pockets would get weighed down from all of the “treasures” she would find along the way.  From sparkling rocks to a kaleidoscope of leaves–crimson, gold, and burnt orange, and from a discarded snail shell to a special stick perfect for digging, it was those little delights that added up to big pockets of joy!  The world continues to be full of small treasured moments that we too can collect along life’s path, if we view the world as a child. 

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Finally, there is the lesson of the restorative power of laughter and the healing power of love.  One needs only to observe–or recall–the ease with which a child can transition from tears to laughter with the embrace of a trusted loved one, and then the way in which they can explode into laughter, when afterwards, an adult gives them a raspberry.  Laughter and love are also contagious, and as the children demonstrate to me on a regular basis, can be the salve to a world full of hurt and sorrow.

Therefore, I encourage you to try, if only for one day, or part of a day, to practice viewing the world with the eyes of a child.  Smile at others and even to yourself.  Observe events and others with openness and without motive.  Notice and gather the small blessings. Enjoy a good belly laugh, or five, and, like a child offering you a flower, offer love to others (think: generosity, gentleness, patience . . .), and see what happens.  Who knows how many lives/situations your child-like focus will affect . . . including your own!  

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