Articles

Houston Tribune
April 2005
Bridgette Mongeon © 2005

It is interesting how inanimate objects and memories of them can reflect the changes that have happened in your life. Finding and having a place to create is imperative to all artists.

There comes a point, especially for a sculptor, when having space outside of your home is not only needed, it is necessary. This was first displayed to me many years ago when I tried to pour a terracotta slip mold in my formal living room that was then dubbed “studio space.” My daughter was all of six or seven at the time. First, let me explain that slip has the consistency of cake batter. This is poured very carefully into a heavy, multiple piece, plaster mold that is securely fastened with rubber bands or straps. The operable word is securely fastened. It was my first time pouring a slip mold, and those straps were not as secure as I would have liked them to be. Brown slip came gushing out of the unsecured crevices, pouring all over the hardwood floor. My daughter looked on in horror as she tried desperately to help me collect what had come out. Both of us were laughing, our hands caked with the batter. I seem to remember that somehow brown splatters ended up on the cream-colored drapes and walls. When it was all done, my daughter in her incredible childlike wisdom that would often blow me away said, “Momma, this seems like something you should pay someone else to do.”

The demise of hardwood floors and drapes were not the only thing that suffered from my lack of an appropriate space. I’ll never forget taking the fax machine in to be repaired. It seemed extremely temperamental and was always breaking down. The service man opened her up and replied, “Lady what are you faxing through here anyway? There is a terracotta dust everywhere.”

It was over 15 years ago that I drove through the Heights area searching for studio space. I would look at old buildings like most women my age would look at a potential boyfriend. My heart would beat a little faster; my gaze would be with longing and desire. I had to be close, see all there was, explore all possibilities of developing a long-term relationship.

I examined many buildings. The old house that used to stand behind the paper mill and the seed bins on Montrose. It was torn down years ago. I examined the clock tower behind Fiesta and the second floor of what was then Grace Equipment. It was an enormous space and a little creepy. Oh, that time of searching was filled with a lot of fence hopping and pleading for audience with property owners.

It was my good friend Harry Shepherd that led me to my present landlord. Apparently both the landlord and I had a fondness for jazz and for Harry’s awesome playing. My landlord Don Shaw was a long time painter and artist of Houston, and he told me about the studio space. It had been his painting studio for years. I could not wait to see a space that might be called my own.

The old shotgun house sat back within the property; no curtains were on the windows, and I could get a good glimpse of the potential space. The fenced yard housed two large oaks that seemed to nestle over the building like a mother bird’s wings over her young. The yard looked ominous with abstract sculptures and found items strategically spread about. Standing along the back fence was a wooden cutout of a figure with what looked like matted hair blowing in the wind. There are also large sharp metal sculptures with piercing pieces threaded through them; these sculptures have a foreboding look of teeth. All of the yard art seem to keep intruders away. People seem to have both an intrigue and a fear of the property.

I was glad to move in to the place and call it my own.

All those years ago, the studio seemed so big, and my daughter seemed so small. I painted the kitchen a salmon color with teal accents and had Christina paint her small palm print and stamp the wall and the door. Intentional drips of alternating colors fell from her delicate little hand.

Chris’ handprints were not the only ones in the studio. Any visitor that I could entice marked the bathroom door; the palm print was always accompanied by a personal signature and message, “May all your dreams come true, let your heart soar, here is to making money with your art” and many more.

So many memories happened at that studio. My daughter would come there with me late at night, shower in the shower, and take a nap on the cot in the kitchen while momma worked. Often we would have First Thursday Art shows always accompanied by a creative endeavor, a creative event that all attendees could participate in. For one show there was “shoot the sheet.” All participants would shoot the hanging sheet with water pistols filled with fabric dye. For another event there were the sculptures of found yard objects. There were paper airplanes at yet another event, and there is still a paper airplane caught in the rafters from that escapade. The mud pie contest never went over big. I was surprised at how many people do not like to get their hands dirty, but there were a few strong contenders for first prize.

There were visiting artists at each show, usually painters that would hang their work on the back wall. Each of us would invite our own set of friends and pitch in for the wine and cheese. My daughter would dutifully monitor the serving table, great hostess that she is.

I think everyone’s favorite event was the upside down Christmas party. Each year I would hang a Christmas tree upside down from the ceiling of the studio. It was strung with lights and the tree skirt was tacked to the ceiling. Every person coming to that art show was asked to hang an ornament on the tree, but it had to be something that was on their person or in their car. Amazingly, we have quite a few Halloween decorations on the Christmas tree. Each year I saved the ones from the year before, except for the few pieces of paper money that were folded into origami patterns. They made a wonderful decoration, but I admit that they were also appreciated for the financial worth by a single mom who was an artist trying to make ends meet.

I have met incredible people at 1048, the relationship of students that would take several articles to report. There were also multiple interviews with reporters. I’ll never forget the day that PBS did the special about me back in 1990. Producer Manny Santos went to all lengths to get exactly what he wanted. He even brought in a smoke machine to give some mystery to the sculptures. The studio was so filled with smoke that we had to exit the building for air as we watched the billowing smoke gush out the door and up to the mothering trees. The special effects apparently worked, for that artist documentary won an award for PBS and Manny Santos.

My dogs, Emmy and Chas, often came with me to the studio. It was a welcome play date for the current neighboring dog that shared the property with their master and myself. There were several of those dogs. Maggie, a black chow, was a fence hopper nothing we could do could stop her. Maggie seemed to come with the property, being adopted by the Mike when the prior neighbors moved out. She is gone, but there is a wonderful marker created by artist Mike Robins in her memory. There was also Nina, a chocolate lab, weimaraner mix. Though she and her master have moved, we still get to see them both and often baby-sit for Nina whenever possible. Then there was Max, a stately black lab, who I am told has a wonderful new home in the country. He too was another fence hopper. Presently it is Coffee, a chow and Violet who is a mutt.

My work has changed, as have the years. My sculptures have gotten larger, and I am happy to say in more demand. The studio has served me well, though it has grown weary with its age, and the dampness seems to affect us both. It now goes the way of the rest of 25th and the Heights. It will soon be scheduled for demolition. Torn down for newer homes. I have watched the back hoes come through tearing down everything in sight, snapping trees like toothpicks and pulling them up from their roots. All in the name of progress. I do hope they save the oak trees at 1048; they must be over 100 years old. It is one thing to move away from a place and be able to come back to it. It is an entirely different thing to see it demolished. I’m sad to see it go. When I move, I will take a few things. I plan on cutting my daughters palm prints out of the sheet rock, taking the hand print door, and keeping Maggie’s memorial.

As sad as change can be, it can also be good. Since that first day of moving in nearly 15 years ago the studio has grown increasingly smaller, and my daughter has grown into a woman. I’m planning my new space and happy to report that there is plenty of work that is already contracted to be created in the space. Remember that six year old little girl who napped and created and played hostess? Her wedding is scheduled for 2007, and I know that not long after that I’ll have other children, grandchildren to entertain and create with in my new studio space.

The space at 1048 West 25th has always been about creating art. I am very blessed to have had it. It is, however, amazing to think of the many, many memories that were also created along the way.

All written work is copyrighted and cannot be used, whole or impart,
without the written consent of the author.

Houston Tribune
January 2005

by Bridgette Mongeon © 2005

I have recently seen the movie Pollyanna, a PBS special. Growing up I had heard of the girl Pollyanna, or the term Pollyanna, but never read the 1913 book by Elanor H. Porter.

I was intrigued by the little girl and her “glad game” that she taught to just about everyone that she came in contact with. In Pollyanna’s words: “Oh, yes; the game was to just find something about everything to be glad about-no matter what ’twas.”

Sometimes the game was not easy, like the first time she played it. She had asked for a doll from the missionary aid and instead received crutches. She decided she could be glad she didn’t need the crutches, and the game began.

More people should play this glad game. In fact, many are professionally trained in the glad game. It might be said of Pollyanna that she was practicing a form of cognitive therapy. Cognitive therapy is basically the idea that feeling follows thought. If we can change our mode of thinking about a life event or about ourselves then we can change the way we feel about it. To help patients with such things as depression, anxiety problems, self-esteem, and anger management, psychologists sometimes use cognitive therapy; many books have been written on the subject, such as Feeling Good by David D. Burns M.D.

Sometimes, in our thoughts about our life or thoughts about ourselves, our thinking becomes distorted. We can ultimately change the way these things affect us by changing our thinking, which will in turn change how we feel.

A psychological concept often used with cognitive therapy is “self talk.” Self-talk is what we say to ourselves as we confront obstacles, make decisions or resolve life problems. This is a normal thinking process for individuals. When our self-talk is negative it can immobilize us and keep us from moving forward. Learning to change negative self-talk into positive self-talk can take some work, but when it is done it can make a world of difference in your personal growth.

The concept of cognitive therapy is not new to me. In fact, intuitively I have been doing it for most of my life. If a friend begins to tell me that they can’t do something I am known to break into that old song: “Just what makes that little old ant, think he can move the rubber tree plant, anyone knows an ant can’t move a rubber tree plant, but he has high hopes …”

Friends often change their own thinking about the situation just to keep from listening to my song.

My cognitive training did not come from a book on psychology or a counselor it came from Sunday school. When I felt I could not do something my Sunday school training said, ” I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” When someone comes to Sunday school and feels unloved or unlovable the Bible tells him he is loved and lovable. People who learn these principles change their thinking, and strive to better themselves. Whether it is through cognitive therapy or spiritual living.

I have often said that one of my favorite songs is from the movie White Christmas. Bing Crosby sings: “ When I get worried and I can’t sleep, I count my blessings instead of sheep, and I fall asleep counting my blessings. When my bank roll is getting small, I think of when I had none at all, and I fall asleep counting my blessings.”

And my favorite saying is by Ralph Waldo Emerson. “A man is what he thinks about all day long.”
Mr. Emerson was on the right track. If you think depressed sad and lonely thoughts, or your self-talk is negative, that is exactly what you will be.

Maybe we should take our cues from Pollyanna, Bing Crosby and Ralph Waldo Emerson. There is something to be said about it being “all in your mind.”

For those of you who are still not convinced here are a few more thoughts to ponder.

“No matter where you go or what you do, you live your entire life within the confines of your head.”
Terry Josephson

“A positive attitude may not solve all your problems, but it will annoy enough people to make it worth the
effort.” Herm Albright

“A pessimist sees the difficulty in every opportunity; an optimist sees the opportunity in every difficulty.”
Winston Churchill

Bridgette Mongeon is a writer and artist living in the Heights, www.creativesculpture.com

All written work is copyrighted and cannot be used, whole or impart,
without the written consent of the author.

Houston Tribune
December © 2004

The New England Journal of Medicine, June 19,2003 suggests that ballroom dancing may prevent dementia. A group of men and women participated in six hobbies that were considered brain stimulating activities, such as writing, reading, discussions, playing games, crosswords and playing instruments. There were also eleven physical activities like ballroom dancing, and different sports; the 469 participants were studied for 21 years.

During the course of the study, 124 people developed dementia, 61 developed Alzheimer’s, 30 had strokes, and 25 mixed dementia, 8 had other types of dementia.

It was reported that those who took part in the brain stimulating activities had a reduced risk of developing dementia. The only physical activity that showed a reduced risk was ballroom dancing. In fact ballroom dancing scored the highest in both brain stimulating and physically ,stimulating group. It is thought that the old saying, “use it or lose it” applies to the brain stimulating activities. Ballroom dancing has so many brain stimulating elements such as remembering steps, reacting to the partner and hearing the beat that it is mentally challenging.

Because physical activity is important at any age, and brain stimulation may playa part in preventing dementia, ballroom dancing is proven to be a great exercise for both the body and mind.

All written work is copyrighted and cannot be used, whole or impart,
without the written consent of the author.

Houston Tribune October 2004
Bridgette Mongeon © 2004

For the longest time I didn’t understand the entire concept. A mama bird in my back yard, day after day, after day, would fly to and fro gathering little worms for her precious baby birds. It’s a wonder for anyone to see. The feeding of these baby birds I understood, it is the next step in the growth cycle of the bird that had me puzzled. Finally mama gives the baby bird a gentle nudge. “Fly my little darling”.

I sure didn’t understand that concept, until of course I had a teenager in my own home that was about to go to college. My vision of the mama bird has changed a bit. I now envision the mama bird talons firmly placed on the rump of the baby bird pushing the baby bird to fly, who by the way has learned to moan and whine quite loudly, and pay little attention to what mama bird says. In fact the baby, quite irritated that the mama’s beautiful songs now sound like squawking, was ready to fly.

Any parent who has experienced the push and pull of the teenager about to become an “adult” knows what I am saying. I don’t want to sound bitter. I’m just being realistic.

I know from experience. My daughter, the writer of the story “The Rest of my Life” in this month’s Tribune, is the baby bird. I love her to death, but it is definitely time to see her fly. Through the last few months she has worked diligently making money as she wrote about in “A Real Job” July Tribune. The mound of “things I’m taking to college” grew daily. I didn’t understand half of the purchases, but now that I think about it, it was probably more about buying the first things for her own place. We have all been there, in fact, I can remember getting excited over the first can of Comet that I purchased. Sounds funny now, but that was My Comet and was going to be used to clean My toilet. Ahh to be that excited over cleaning supplies.

You should have seen the look on her face, second day in the dorm as she opened her cupboard, to reveal the fresh shelf paper and toiletries. It was priceless! In another cupboard she had all of her plates, and snacks placed perfectly and her coffeepot perched on top of her shelf. The new can opener she tried to use to open the coffee did not work, it must have been one of those dollar items. So that will be one of those things in the next care package.

College life is indeed the beginning of the rest of her life. I can’t wait to see how the experience molds and shapes her. Though she did whine a bit through the summer and we also played a small game of emotional tug of war before she left, she is an incredible young lady with many talents. I know she will do fine. That is the reason I can let go of some of my fear for her spreading her wings. Besides I am most excited about her experiences and the feeling she will get from flying.

As the mama bird sits in the nest watching the first flight I can’t help but ask myself a ton of questions. “Will she remember to study? Will she put her studies above socialization, will she be accountable for the money that she earns, and know that it needs to go to tuition?” The thoughts are endless.

There was little activity after the baby birds flew away, just the mama bird busy cleaning out the nest. I did the same thing, in fact I just finished putting my treadmill in my daughter’s bedroom.

It is a new phase in the life of my husband and I as well. Our focus is more on each other and what we would like to do for our future, maybe we can even travel! Come to think of it, it’s probably the same for that momma bird. That nest in the backyard, that once held those baby birds, is empty. Momma and papa birds have taken a vacation. I said goodbye to them as they headed south.

All written work is copyrighted and cannot be used, whole or impart,
without the written consent of the author.

Houston Tribune
May 2004
Bridgette Mongeon © 2004

Prior to our marrying six years ago, both my husband and liked to dance. Our dancing was of course with different people. Once we married, we tried to dance with each other, but when we did there seemed to be instant tension. I thought, “Maybe a dance class would help.” We signed up for one of those group classes thinking, “This should be fun,” but we both had a mis¬erable time. Though both of us knew how to dance, trying to learn together left us frustrated.

Yvonne, a student who had been taking private instruction for 18 years, introduced me to The Dance Place. I told her about the difficulties that my husband and I were having. I knew we had different ways of learning and that trying to learn together was very frustrating for us both. Maybe we would try to learn just one more time. I wondered if anyone at The Dance Place could help. Yvonne was extremely insightful and understanding. As it turns out, when she first tried to learn to dance, she too had struggled. She recom¬mended Michael Schedler and said he understood learning styles. If anyone could teach us, he could. I would soon find out he had more to teach us than dance.

LEARNING STYLES
Each person has a different learning style, some are auditory learners, some are visual learners, some learn by touch, and others learn intellectually, through patterns. I was aware that the learning styles of my husband and myself were very, very different, but it didn’t really affect us, until it came time to dance. On the dance floor we had to be tolerant of each other’s learning styles, while struggling with our own.

This is probably why we did not do so well in a “group” class. Not only did we have to learn individually but also we had to leave room for the other person. Then there was an entire room of students that would move ahead of us while we were juggling all of the learning.

OUR FIRST CLASS
I was very anxious to try a private class. It was easy to see that Mr. Schedler had a very keen awareness of the learning styles of individuals. He was also able to switch gears throughout our sessions, not only perceiving what one partner was not understanding but redirecting the instructions in a way that each of us could grasp. His talent as a teacher was incredible. At home my husband referred to him as “the mediator, and referee.”

“Most people want to learn to dance, my job is to help them to learn how to overcome their handicap of how they are learning.” States Mr. Schedler. “The teachers job is to find the weakness and to make the partnership work.” I felt a little relieved.

In our first class, Mr. Schedler went over the basics of dance in what seemed like endless detail. I tried to listen to what he was saying, but there seemed to be too many words. A couple of times I thought, “Why is he talking so much? If I don’t move soon he will loose me.” You see my learning style is “feeler.” I learn through the movement. Once I retain the movement in my body, then I have it. These words were not movement. I looked at my husband. He was standing patiently and looked genuinely interested in what the teacher had to say. Later I asked him what he liked about the class; “I like when he went over the basics.” He said, “If I have the parts of things then I can make the connections between the basic parts. I can see it in my head, if I don’t have them I’m lost.” This was the first example of not only how different we are but also of how incompatible our learning styles are of each other. If, in my frustration, I had said something like, “enough, let’s dance” I would have taken away from my husband his opportunity to understand.

I wish I could say I was continually tolerant of my husband’s learning style, but my own learning style kept getting in the way. There was a point in that first class where I did say something. The instructor danced with me demonstrating a part. Then my husband danced with me. The two felt entirely different. I don’t know how they felt different; I just know my body said, “This is different.” I chimed up and said something. I am not sure what the instructor said and he was very polite about it, but my biggest lesson in that first class was “SHUT UP.” Everything inside of me wanted to say, “It is not right, I can feel it’ but I soon learned that the instructor was more than qualified to see the mistakes. As I gave him the opportunity to be the instructor he would very gently guide my husband into the direction and moves that he needed, and he did it using my husband’s way of learning. My husband’s synopsis of the first class and the instruction is that he thought the teacher was very thorough and understanding but most of all, encouraging.

Mr. Schedler said he has never found a student that he couldn’t teach. He did say that he has come across students where their personalities did not mesh with the teachers and he would find another teacher.

In future classes our differences just kept coming out. Both my husband and the instructor chastised me for leading. I didn’t really mean to lead, I knew I shouldn’t, but the desire to do the moves over and over again was so strong. Moving helped me to retain it. Stopping to give my husband time to figure out the pattern fractured my thoughts and seemed to halt my retention. Being reminded to stop moving or leading irritated me, but I tried to be patient. Later Mr. Schedler explained “Intellectual thinkers map out the patterns in their mind. Any kind of doubt in their minds and they get stuck and need to overcome that doubt. They can get stuck on the least little thing. My job is to try and get them to relax and know they can make a mistake. There are no dance police.” My husband later referred to this quote when trying to help me to understand an entirely different aspect of his life, “that’s me,” he said. I have decided I need to remember this about my husband. It may help me to be more patient.

Another aspect of learning to dance is hearing the beats in the music. Sometimes students have a difficult time hearing the rhythm of the music and transferring it into dance. Mr. Schedler explains that with this type of person he will find music with the strongest beat so that the student can learn what to listen for and hear the basic rhythm. He then teaches how to transfer that listening into the movements.

Some students may interpret what the instructor says differently than how he meant it. That is the instructor’s cue to find a different way of saying it. Not louder or more often, as is the case with some instructors, but differently so that the individual can understand it in their own style.

Another learning style is visual learning. Visual learners have an advantage over the feelers and intellectuals. They see what the instructor does and they can transfer it. They may not understand the rhythm but they can copy the patterns.

After our fourth class it was apparent to me that in the past my desire and exuberance about dancing with my husband had added more pressure to him. As Mr. Schedler put it “The one that ‘gets it’ doesn’t mean any harm they just really want to help, however the person on the receiving end just resents it and is frustrated, that is when it is a good idea to have a teacher. The partner on the receiving end won’t want to do it again, they will feel self-conscious and they put up walls of defense. Tearing down those walls can be very difficult, even for a teacher.”

Having our “referee” seemed like the ideal way of learning, but I was concerned about when we were practicing. Mr. Schedler suggests having a controlled environment in which we would practice. And if there are problems, try asking each other “What do you remember him saying?” to see how each remembers it being taught. That did prove to be a little difficult for me; I remembered it in my body. I could tell if it was right or wrong, but to give it a definition in words or remembering what the instructor said was difficult. Mr. Schedler does allow video cameras or tape recorders in his dance class, anything that will help the student learn. He did advise, “If it can’t be worked out then give yourself permission to let it go and seek instruction.” Most of all you must keep it light—dance must be fun.

I couldn’t help but wonder how Mr. Schedler knew so much about learning styles. “I first heard about it after high school. When I began to teach dance I thought about how I could apply learning styles to teaching.” In 22 years of teaching dance he has had some practice. But he says he still tries to figure new ways to teach.

For my husband and I dance class has taught us tolerance and has reinforced the idea that we are very different and that we need to have patience with each other. Our classes have been extremely successful, as our brains are dancing the waltz, foxtrot, swing and salsa, while smiling.

The Dance Place is owned and operated by Michael Schedler and Phillip Stephens. It is located at 3300 Chimney Rock Rd., Suite 500. For more information, call 713-266-0066.

All written work is copyrighted and cannot be used, whole or impart,
without the written consent of the author.

Houston Tribune
June © 2004

by Bridgette Mongeon

Acupuncture and acupressure are increasing in popularity in the United States. Until recently it was believed that Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM), was unscientific, but further research on TCM is resulting in gradual acceptance by the western scientific community. Some insurance companies are also beginning to recognize the value in keeping people healthy through TCM and are paying for treatments.

Some of the practices of TCM have been around for centuries. It is one of the oldest medical practices of the world. Principles behind TCM are very different from western medicine.

MERIDIAN SYSTEM AND QI
Just like western medicine understands different pathways in our body like the lymph, blood or nervous system, TCM has its own invisible pathway based on the meridians. Through these meridians flows the life force of the human body known as qi (pronounced chee). Though scientists have been trying to define qi they can really only study its effects. Sickness comes from qi that cannot flow through meridians because of blockage. Several different things can cause a blockage, for example stored emotions are one form of blockage. TCM understands that anger, fear or any emotion can be stored within organs in the body, and may cause illness. Western doctors are also realizing the effect that emotions play on a person’s health, for example, the discovery in western medicine that anger can raise blood pressure and can cause us to keep high levels of stress hormones in our bodies, may bring on illness. When a patient of TCM is receiving acupuncture or acupressure it is applied to the specific meridian points to induce the flow of qi and release the blockage.

YIN AND YANG
Another principle of TCM is Yin and Yang. Just as a battery needs two poles to work, a positive and a negative, so does the human body. Doctors working in TCM will try to bring harmony and balance to an individual Yin (positive) and Yang (negative.) Too much Yin or Yang and a person will be sick. .’

ORGAN NETWORK
The organ network is another principle of TCM. The five organ networks are Liver, Heart, Spleen, Lung and Kidney. These not only perform the functions that western medicine had discovered but in TCM they have an extension of both physical and psychological aspects to them. For example, the liver affects the storage of blood and ensures the smooth flow of qi in the body. It is also believed that anger is stored in the liver and will affect a person’s even temperedness.

In TCM five elements are related to individual organs, the liver is wood, heart is fire, the spleen is earth, the lungs are metal, and the kidney is water. Symptoms that a patient may be having are not necessarily of the organ that is in trouble. Within this organ network the different organs can have strong effects on each. other. For example the heart (fire) and kidneys (water) influence each other. It is also recognized by western medicine that heart failure is often accompanied by kidney complications and the kidney problems usually induce heart palpitations or symptoms. The heart represents fire and yang and the kidneys represent water and yin; A person with not enough kidney yin, representing water, might not be able to put out the fire and yang of the heart, causing heart problems. Too much of one or not enough of another would cause illness or symptoms for the patient. The TCM doctor works to bring balance.

Doctors of TCM utilize noninvasive treatments using a variety of different methods to restore balance and harmony including herbs, acupuncture, qigong, meditation and diet, among others.

If you are interested in TCM you can read more about it on the Internet. Houston also has many doctors that work with TCM and a College of Acupuncture and Oriental Medicine with a clinic www.acaom.edu.

Scientific documentation is indeed catching up to this age-old form of medicine and the results are something that
is worth looking into.

All written work is copyrighted and cannot be used, whole or impart,
without the written consent of the author.

Houston Tribune
June © 2004

by Bridgette Mongeon

Recently while shopping at the grocery store with my mother I was distracted by a conversation held by two older women. The first woman was vibrant and appeared to be in her mid to late 70’s. She was discussing the benefits of something she was doing and there was urgency in her voice. The second woman had dark circles under her eyes and looked very unhealthy but I could tell she was very interested.

“It is so good for you.” The vibrant woman continued as I approached walking down the isle past the condiments. “It can improve your health, and memory, is great for high blood pressure, and many other ailments. It isn’t jarring and is so easy to do, and as you get older it will improve your balance.”

My mother was ahead of me in the electric shopping cart. I was taking mother on her first shopping trip in many, many weeks. She was just returning from her third visit to the hospital. She had a broken hip and recovering from too many falls to mention. I stopped to listen; intuitively I knew what this vibrant woman was talking about. The second woman began to question her, “Where did you learn it? Can I do it? Is it difficult to learn?” she asked. As her questions were being answered I joined in on the conversation, “Excuse me for interrupting, I overheard your conversation and I just wanted to say that I have been doing a great deal of research on this subject and have found that everything this woman is saying is true. Scientists are beginning to study the effects and agree that it has incredible potential for people of all ages,” I said.

“Show me what it looks like” the second, sickly woman asked the first. Jokingly I said in a very loud voice, “Tai Chi demonstration on aisle seven.” The vibrant woman began to move so gracefully that she resembled what I would describe as wind through the trees. Then to my surprise this grey-haired woman stood on one leg lifting the other leg high to her chest, she also raised both arms up high in the air. She resembled a crane and she stood as still and firm. I looked with longing at my mom in the electric shopping cart. My mother was at least ten years younger than the woman balancing in the aisle, but mom did not have balance, was not able to breathe correctly and had acquired many other maladies that were descending upon her quickly stealing her vitality, and her life.

My own desire to learn this ethereal dance began from the moment I first saw it many years ago. I had purchased a video to try and learn Tai Chi, and it seemed overwhelming, but recently I started taking lessons. There are different forms of Tai Chi; I choose the Yang style long form. There are 108 forms in the long form, which will take the average person more than a year to learn. You do not however have to know all 108 forms to begin to see the benefits of Tai Chi. The woman in the grocery store said that she chose to learn just the first 40 forms, and had been doing Tai Chi for eight years. Perfecting the forms is part of the process of Tai Chi.

With quite a bit of repetition the graceful moves were easy to perform. Learning the choreography of the moves was difficult at first, but soon my body was doing them with little thought until I too was then working on perfecting the moves instead of remembering the steps.

Tai Chi Ch’uan is meditation with movements. Though these movements are based upon martial arts the practice of Tai Chi does not require incredible agility or strength, but it will build both.

It is performed by people of all ages and improves health and vitality. Tai Chi has been practiced for several hundred years originating in China. It can be performed by anyone in any physical condition, proceeding at their own pace and level.

The movements of Tai Chi and another form of Chinese movements called Qigong help to channel the flow chi (pronounced chee) through the body. In Traditional Chinese Medicine it is believed that the uninhibited flow of chi through the body encourages health and vitality. Like blood, chi must move through the entire body and does so through a chi circulatory system. If your chi flow is blocked then sickness will occur. Many scientists are studying the effects of chi. Chi is not something based in mysticism, but is scientific, and is being accepted more and more in the Western world.

There is a meditative state accompanied with deep abdominal breathing that comes with the practice of Tai Chi. The slow movements and turns massage different internal organs. Besides increasing range of motion, building strength and stamina and improving coordination and balance, regular practice of Tai Chi can help with asthma, and other respiratory ailments. It also aids the digestive system, circulatory system and immune system. Many of the scientific studies of the effects of Tai Chi and Qigong can be found in Kenneth Cohen’s’ book The Way of Qigong. Cohen describes Tai Chi as a form of Qigong and in his book, Cohen states, ” Qigong is frequently recommended as the primary therapy for advanced, inoperable, and medically untreatable cancer. In these cases, Qigong can ameliorate pain and other symptoms and slow the progression of the disease, more rarely, Qigong practice results in long term remission.”

I am continually intrigued by the research being done concerning Tai Chi. For me Tai Chi and Qigong are more than just exercise, they are ways of promoting and keeping my health. For those dealing with such things as cancer who feel helpless to what is happening in their bodies, it may be empowering for a patient to accompany their treatments with Tai Chi or Qigong.

For myself I have adopted Tai Chi as a daily practice. I believe that performing the moves will help me to stay healthy. As Tai Chi and Qigong become a part of my life, and in my journey of perfecting each move perhaps I will enter the second part of my life with grace and vitality. When I am 80 or 90 I will not feel the least bit silly standing on one foot like a crane in the middle of the grocery store sharing my adventure and hope with another. Who knows maybe if I do, someone else just might find their health on the isle seven near the condiments.

Don Price is a certified Tai Chi instructor. You can learn Tai Chi long form through the Jewish community Center 5601 South Braeswood 713-729-3200 ext. 3223 The JCC will also be starting a seniors class in the fall. Don teaches throughout the city. To find a class nearest you contact Don Price at 713-988-2765 or e-mailing him at DPriceOCentral.UH.EDU.

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without the written consent of the author.

Houston Tribune March 2004
Bridgette Mongeon © 2004

Visitors who come by my home often comment on my garden. “Lovely, it is an oasis in the middle of the city.” I just smile and feel a warm nurturing feeling accompanied with a quiet excitement.

There once was a day when my garden oasis was only a dream. My surroundings seemed void, dry and sparse. It was, in fact, a reflection of what I was feeling inside of me at that time. Our gardens can be a reflection of our souls. “I’ll change it all.” I said to myself one day.

“I’ll change the outside and it will help change what is within me.” So I sat on a patch of grass and dreamt of a garden. Then I took a shovel and began turning over dirt, and then more dirt. A friend came to visit me and asked what I was doing, panting a bit, still digging, I answered “Building my dream garden.” There was row after row of turned dirt, and not one plant to plant in them. It didn¹t matter; the important thing was to act upon my dreams.

It was apparent more soil was needed. However as a single mom there was very little expendable income. In this journey of discovering my garden and myself I found that just as I would put forth the effort and get to a certain point where there was a need, somehow what was needed appeared. It may also have been due to the fact that I looked at life more creatively, less confining, and with more possibility.

Just down the street the city was digging out drainage ditches. I mustered up the courage to ask the driver if I could have some of the soil, ” Sure he said, give me the address.” Soon I had raised flowerbeds everywhere. One last load of dirt was dumped in the driveway. I wish I had gotten up into that last truck to take a look, because this time I did not receive fine soil instead he deposited a large truckload of hard clay.

There were many beautifully raised beds all around my yard, and one huge pile of gumbo in my driveway. The beds sat empty for a while. It is inevitable if you don¹t plant anything in those flowerbeds, no matter how prepared they are; they will soon be overcome with weeds. And if dreams are not acted upon and then you lose momentum, the stagnation will be felt, along with discouragement.

I did not find the dirt I needed until I was ready for it, and had gone through the effort to turn my soil. Now that my beds were turned over for the second time I made myself ready for plants. While walking in the neighborhood I admired a neighbors yard. ” Fine garden,” I said. “If you ever need assistance I would love to lend a hand in your yard in exchange for some of your plants.” “No need to help, take as much as you want, I¹m moving.” Was his reply. So weekend after weekend I loaded the trunk of my car with plants. My trunk hauled so many plants, dirt breaking free from their roots in travel, that soon things began to grow inside my car.

I had Cannas , Split Leaf Philodendrons, edging plants and many other things that I didn’t even know the names of. At one point I estimated I had over $1,000 worth of plants. I planted my treasures with quite a bit of distance between them. For two reasons, the first was that I wanted it to look like I had more than I had, and the other was because I knew that after a time things would grow and eventually fill in. It is the same way with dreams that are acted upon; they grow and fill in the sparse areas of our lives.

Once I began to act upon my dream garden I became more aware of other peoples gardens. I noticed that many people had gardens that needed thinning. Each time I would receive plants from another gardener there was this unspoken respect for another dreamer and the honor of sharing in a part of their dream. In no time at all my entire yard was lush with bushes, flowers and plants.

Remember that big pile of gumbo? I painstakingly moved it to the back yard. Another friend came over and said “Your yard is looking pretty good accept this pile of dirt here”. I could hardly believe it. I said “Is that what you see?” I had spent so much time visualizing my dream garden that I thought everyone could see it the way that I did.

That evening I got an old piece of wood and some paint. I made two signs and put one on top of the pile of dirt and another further in the yard. The first said, “Visualize a waterfall here” and another said, “Visualize a stream here.”

It took over 10 years, and my paradise is still a work in progress. The waterfall is not complete, but the sign has been removed and in its place are two ponds. The stream does run into a lower pond just where I visualized it, under the footbridge that my husband and son made. The sandy beach with Adirondack chairs was never in my original dream but was added as I went along.

When I was a little girl my fondest memories were along the streams of the Allegheny Mountains. There are no mountains just north of the Heights in Houston, but the adventure and wonder I feel as I take my shoes and socks off and play in the stream is just as rejuvenating as when I was a child.

Over the years my garden has changed. My dream garden was not the only thing that was nurtured; I nurtured my own dreams. As they both grew I became inspired. I watched provision come when needed, spurred by my own actions. This taught me to work hard and to depend on God- faith. It all started with a dream and my willingness to act upon those dreams and with a little time life grew sweet, filling everything in.

Bridgette Mongeon is a sculptor, writer and avid gardener residing in the Heights.

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without the written consent of the author.

Houston Tribune. February © 2004

by Bridgette Mongeon

When I was a girl, we had this huge polka dotted pink elephant that took residence directly in the middle of our living room. Now even though this elephant was annoying and affecting the view of each other, we never talked about it. It affected everyone in our home, but no one dared speak of it. Each of us, my brother, my sister, my dad, and myself arranged our lives around the pesky pachyderm. I am not sure why conversations about its presence were an unspoken taboo, but everyone knew that it was. Because of the shame that was brought on by this bothersome boarder, the members of our home rarely, if ever, invited anyone to our house, and when we did, we each had our own set of excuses to distract the visitor and to explain it away.

It has been a long time since I had thought about that elephant, almost 30 years. The memory of it was brought back to me by my interaction with a very young courageous girl of 13. My girlfriend’s granddaughter, Brandey, was embarking on the acknowledgment of her own huge polka dotted pink elephant that was resides in her home. I was just her age when I too began to acknowledge my own elephant. I discovered that many other kids my age were experiencing the same thing. You see this taboo subject and huge obstacle that sat between all my family members was brought on by a disease that gripped the family – Alcoholism. My mother was an alcoholic.

Alcoholism is a disease. It is a disease that affects the entire family. Even though it affects everyone, no one talks about it; it was like a huge polka dotted pink elephant sitting right in the middle of our living room.

I remember how wonderful it felt, so many years ago, listening to other kids who revealed their own stories. In their experiences, I could see my own life. The shame, fear, desperation, and hopelessness were replaced with understanding, action, and hope. Finally I found a place where others not only had huge pink polka dotted elephants, but they were also willing to talk about them. This place of such enlightenment was called Alateen.

Alateen taught me that I was powerless over the elephant, the alcohol, and my mom’s drinking. I· couldn’t make mom sober, but I could help myself. Her drinking wasn’t my fault. I learned how to cope with my problems and build a life filled with hope.

A teenager who had a father that was an Alcoholic developed the program of “Alateen in 1957. The Alateen program is patterned after Alcoholics Anonymous (AA). AA has had great success with helping alcoholics obtain sobriety. Alanon was developed for spouses or family members of the alcoholic and. Alateen developed for the teenagers. All of these programs have helped many family members to understand their family disease. Since attending Alateen 30 years ago Pre-Alateen has also come into existence. The motto for all of these branches of AA is “It works for you if you work the program.”

I found a local Alateen meeting for Brandey. There we both met Brittany, a most impressive young lady who shared her experiences with Brandey. I know the two of them had an instant rapport. How could they not, they were both the owners of huge polka dotted pink elephants. Brittany 13 and her younger brother 12 have both been “working the program” for 8 years.

I marveled at the grandmother who religiously took these kids to meetings. I don’t know if anyone can possibly know the long-range effect that this can have on children. You see, when one becomes emotionally healthy, it opens your life to all possibilities. And, research has proven that children with alcoholic parents have a greater chance of becoming alcoholics themselves.

This mental health help and Alateen may save their lives’ I believe it saved mine. So if you are a relative of a teen who may need help, please take the initiative to help in finding and driving these kids to meetings.

If you are not sure if there is an elephant in your home Alateen has put together a list of questions. It can be found at http://www.al-anon.org/ twentyquestions.html. There is a similar list for those wondering if Alanon is for them.

Let me assure you there is hope. My mother has been sober for 30 years. What alcoholism robbed from us in my early years has been restored a hundred fold. She has grown into a woman that I not only admire, but also deeply respect!

If you would like to talk to someone about your huge polka dotted pink elephant you can find meetings in your area by calling 713-683-7227 or searching the local Alanon web site located at http://www.hal¬pc.org/ alanontx/. Let me encourage you to keep trying the contact.numbers. Don’t give up, if one does not work encourage people to give you another, or go to the next on the list. You might also want to call the numbers in off-hours. Some people may only answer the phones before and after meetings, just before 7:30 p.m. or after 9:00 p.m.

If your elephant goes by another color or name, there are many different organizations that are helping individuals with all sorts of problems like; low self-esteem, gambling, sex addiction, drug addiction, and many others. All of these programs are patterned after AA, and have proven to be highly effective. I have found a list of them located at http://www.council-houston.org/recovery.htm. Once again be persistent in calling and in seeking help.

All of the programs are free and many offer free literature. With a little work you not only will be able to recognize your huge polka dotted pink elephant, but you will soon be able to function better, feel healthier, and see your family members a little clearer in your life and from across the living room.

Bridgette Mongeon is a writer and artist who lives in the Heights area www.creativesculpture.com

All written work is copyrighted and cannot be used, whole or impart,
without the written consent of the author.

© B. Mongeon 1993

Indigo Sun June 1993

We have heard much about our inner child. Some of us have taken great pains to meet, greet, and love that sometimes lonely, and frightened part of ourselves. Often we have had to search long and hard for that child that has made a constant survival game of hide-and-seek, afraid to come out, and afraid of pain. A part of that same child is our inner creative self, buried deep within, afraid of rejection.

Our misconception of creativity is that creativity is like royal blood – a divine gift bestowed on some and not on others. Or that it is inherited like freckles or red hair. We often look at creative people with awe, and a bit of jealously; however, we are all born creative. We are all born with the same need to know, a desire to formulate, and will to express ourselves. “Every child is an artist,” states Pablo Picasso “The problem is how to remain an artist after growing up.” William Staford writes, “My question is when did other people give up the idea of being a poet? You know when we are kids we make up things, we write, and for me the puzzle is not that some people are still writing, the real question is why did other people stop?”

Hushing the creative self stems from our own fear of rejection, our inherited dysfunctions and our dominant, obtrusive, intellectual left hemisphere. We hear the ghostly voices in our heads – Aunt Ethel stating we could never be a writer with our atrocious spelling. In fear and humiliation we just never tried again. Or the voice of our grandfather stating Uncle Joe was the artist in the family, the talent was not passed down to another. So we packed up our pencil and sketch book, tucked them away with our inner creative child, assured that the genealogy of creativity could never have reached our simple hands.

Recovering our creative self is a decision. Many times students call for classes and I know by the shakiness in their voices that they are afraid, insecure and in need. I know if they got a busy line, or a message was not returned, they might never call again. For some it just took too much effort to call the first time. First time students sometimes explain their artistic experience in those phone calls and some just share a hope of being creative. As in any recovery the first step, however frightening, must be taken.

Those involved in creative recovery also need a sense of support. Safe sources to show artwork to, brainstorm with, and read those first drafts to. It is imperative to find safe places, for the wrong people can set our recovery back. Those who refuse to hear the cries of their own creative child, are not safe sources. They feel extremely threatened by those learning to unleash their creativity, and they often like to manipulate the recovering creative through guilt.

Many times our creative self has been squashed by the rude remarks of adults and on lookers as we were growing up. We fear that rejection so much, the pain of not being accepted, that we often never create again. In our recovery we need to protect that creative self, from others and from ourselves. We must reassure ourselves that renewing our creativity is like learning anything for the first time. We have to allow ourselves some good efforts, and practice, clumsy first drafts, bad poems, and ugly sketches. One women’s fear of the written word was so great she stated, “I am afraid to write because I fear I will write too much, and if I write too much they will laugh, or it will sound dumb.” Her resolution was to not write any words. Her fear was so great and her voices were just too loud.

In writing class I say purge! Write and write – spelling does not matter nor does grammar, in this step of the creative process. If you write too much you can edit later, next week, or next year, but put the thoughts down. Purge with pen and paper until it flows off the paper onto the table and down to the floor. The left hemisphere can revise and organize later but you will at least have something to work with.

Some are so bound by being perfect in their creativity, they feel it is better not to try. To those I say, build a sand castle in the sand. Tomorrow it will be gone. But you will have created and learned, and expressed a part of your self.

This month as a part of discovering your creative self list five things you have always wanted to do. My list changes regularly, and that is okay. I accept that as a part of my life and growth, and not as reason to badger myself with guilt and thoughts of being irresolute. I have accomplished some of my things and because my desires sometimes change, I have given you my most recent list.

• Learn to Tango
• Take up fencing
• Swim with dolphins
• Take a cross country trip in a motor home
• Create and market a line of garden sculpture
• Now take time and list at least one thing you can do to work towards achieving these things.
• Call a dance club look for classes
• Contact a scuba company
• Get information on costs of renting motor homes, plan destination
• Look up manufacturers, and by all means start sculpting.

Now, it is perfectly okay, however small or great an effort, do something!

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without the written consent of the author.