Nicole Helbig and Reminiscence

     In naming this blog, it brought to mind a paper I wrote for an English class my junior year in high school. The assignment was fairly vague and informal--we were to choose a painting with which we identified in some way, and then write about it. We were to integrate details of the painting into our paper and communicate to a reader what we felt the message of the painting was for us personally. This is not, by far, the best specimen of my writing, and it could use some revision if I unearth the energy or need to revise it at some point. But for now, I'll share it "as is." I'll include a picture of the painting; feel free to take from it whichever message it seems to speak to you. I firmly believe that art of any form can speak volumes, and this is just one of many masterpieces that has influenced me.
     When I found this painting, I was going through a rough time. I was in the midst of a complicated conflict with my best friend--we were making each other miserable and tried in vain to settle on either a clear cause or easy solution. Besides that, I was juggling some difficult classes and the general weight of my impending decisions about my future, namely college and career choices. To add to those common stressors is the even more common phenomenon of simply being a moody high school student, with emotions so varied and so intense that at times I felt I was only along for the crazy ride. I still feel things deeply, but I feel I have mellowed out quite a bit, and can happily report that the majority of the time I feel collected, even content. I don't mean to jinx myself here, and I should insert a disclaimer that I am far from "put-together." I have serious growing left to do, am in the midst of redefining pieces of who I am and how I treat myself and other people, and still find myself struggling through dialectical tensions at times. (For those of you not hopelessly in love with interpersonal-communication-scholars terms, or just to clarify what I mean, dialectical tensions: the natural attempt to balance ideas/concepts that are opposite or complimentary, for instance autonomy and interdependence, intimacy and privacy, etc). I digress--for the most part I feel the roller coaster has settled down, changing tracks from the Great Bear to the Sidewinder, for all you who are Hershey-Park-happy. I am thrilled and inexplicably thankful that my above mentioned friend remains one of the few people on earth that I can and do count on to care about and for me unconditionally. As to my future plans, they are a bit like one of those fancy shower doors at the moment, where there is some semblance of clarity but really it is all blurred out. Weird analogy. I know what I want to do with my life, even if all the steps along the pathway are not yet clear. Everyday I am reassured that I made the right decision in which college to attend, and which major to pursue; I know so many cannot claim this confidence, and I realize how truly lucky I am!
     And now that I have successfully rambled on about my life, then and now, here's the paper and the painting:

"“Come to Me”

2009 Nicole Helbig
Acrylics on Canvas
120 x 100 cm
Painting of lady outstretched hand with canary bird.

The painting depicts a young girl seated on a small bench, surrounded by swirling hues of deep colors in shades of bright blues, deep purples and vibrant yellows. Upon first glance, the focal point of the painting seems to be the girl sitting on the bench. After examining the painting for a few more seconds, her outstretched arm and the bird grow in importance and become the real focus of the painting. The upper left hand corner's lighter shades of blue create a light mood, while the lower right hand corner's deep purple creates a slightly darker mood. The colors of the young girl contrast with those around her, suggesting that she is somehow apart from her surroundings.

    At first glance the girl seems downtrodden, neglected, and alone. Without the small bright yellow bird, this painting would be utterly depressing--the depiction of a plain, dejected young girl, collapsed in solitude amidst the swirling dark confusion surrounding her. Had the artist left the painting unfinished at that point, its tone and message would remain one of dejection. We all travel through those times when the world is "dark blue;" when we seem lost in the hues all around us, lacking the energy to get back up off of the wooden bench on which we fell. A contemporary song titled "Dark Blue" by Jack Mannequin well depicts the feeling I believe this painting initially evokes; "This flood (this flood) is slowly rising up swallowing the ground Beneath my feet, Tell me how anybody thinks under this condition so I'll swim (I'll swim) as the water rises up, the sun is sinking down And now all I can see are the planets in a row Suggesting it's best that I slow down." These lyrics seem to describe perfectly the swirling darkness at the feet of the young girl, the dark blue hues all around her. It is an entrapping mood--no pathways are shown leading away from this place, no sun is shown on the horizon.

    Besides the mood the girl seems to show, her appearance says even more. She is dressed plainly; her appearance is undone. Here, I begin to identify with her. This is the state in which I feel myself to be currently--a stripping away of much of what I thought I was, a reversion to the simplest part of me, a reliance on the most fundamental of the beliefs within me, a desperate return to my first love. First love, as in the One who offered to die for me, then did. The One who has never left me, nor forsaken me, no matter how forsaken the view from my wooden bench may seem. She appears to be left with nothing to offer, her arms are empty and she carries no luggage. My luggage may still be with me, but I feel my arms start to empty as I day by day give my all away. Maybe it isn't a bad thing to come empty handed to the light; while solemn or quiet, her face shows no tears. She is reserved, withdrawn, but still holding on. Some of my favorite lyrics from the song Therapy by Relient K show this seeming contradiction exists "Loneliness and solitude are two things not to get confused Cause I spend my solitude with you." She may be physically alone, weathered and exhausted, but she is not in despair. Her back is to the lighter blues; she faces the darkness at her feet. However, the light blues seem to be swirling in around her head, the brightness traveling to push out the deep purples. I may not be seeking out the sunshine, yet somehow it finds me. I am displaced but not alone, weathered but not destroyed, exhausted even as the light of life invades my scene. 

            A thin dress clothes the young girl. This dress is sort of whimsical, the fabric almost an unreal texture. She does not appear to be particularly warm or cold; the blue colors give off a cold feeling, but she doesn’t look uncomfortable due to the temperature. The dress is adequate—it is not enough to protect her, but neither does it add to her vulnerability. This dress may reflect her resources. She does not have excess, but she also is not in poverty. I connect with this reality; though I may think I am lacking what I need to make a difference in my color scheme, often what I need is right in front of me, unnoticed. Like the girl in the painting, I feel as though right now my “attire” is basic, yet sufficient. I have the care and abilities that I need to get through this life, maybe even make a lasting change, even though I may not see that clearly sometimes. My dress for this life is as colorful and yet as plain as hers; I am prepared even when I don’t feel as though I am.

The young girl is seated on a wooden bench--at first this merits almost no significance, seeming to be merely an artist’s attempt to frame the main subject. The contrasts of reddish orange and turquoise add to the feeling of balance created by the bench. Upon further observation, this bench is actually central to the painting’s meaning. While she faces darkness, she has not fallen to the ground. With no other inanimate subjects in the picture, this bench seems to be a place of refuge, holding her up even though she may not even notice it. I find that in those darkest times the wooden benches in my life are often overlooked. Only after the clouds pass do we realize what has been keeping us from hitting the ground all that time.

   The background involving the interesting colors and the moods and conclusions it implies are important, but not as important as the focal point of the painting. If the observer were to focus only on the surroundings, this painting would be discouraging. Perhaps one would assume that she has been rejected, and she is now left with naught but her sorrow. But a look beyond first impressions and facial expressions reveals the underlying hope that this painting tells of. If this painting were a song, the music would climax as it reached her outstretched hand and the bird suspended in flight nearby. Not only has the light found her, and me, but a messenger has been sent as well. For many years past, going back to the most ancient accounts, a bird was always symbolic of a message or sign. In the Bible when God sent Moses a sign for when to exit the ark onto dry land, He sent a dove. In later and such famous accounts as those of Emily Dickinson's poetry, a bird was associated with positive messages again; "Hope is the thing with feathers." The bird in this painting fits the generality--its presence seems to be the ray of hope amidst the darkest circumstances. There is much I do not understand about the way this world is colored...I have taken my brush and palette and tried in vain to cover over the undesirable shades. This painting reminds me that perhaps we are not capable of re-coloring our surroundings, but that those colors may indeed come to us. The small golden bird is in flight, and is in sharp contrast to the darkness below it, outshining even the lighter blues above and to the left of it. I identify most with this painting in this: her outstretched arm. Some days, I may be lost, confused, surrounded, and exhausted with no end in sight. Not every day in my life "dark blue," but when those times come, I identify with her hope. I raise my hand to the little bird and do my best not to lose sight of it until the light blues overpower the deep purples. For those times when I sink onto my wooden bench empty-handed and undone, the light and the hope never fail to find me and recolor my circumstances."