Open Hands: The Story Behind the Story

Open Hands collage of hand trace drawings

Celebrate with us! We reached our first goal of 1000 handprints!

Art is one way, or solution, to work through some of my own dilemmas or emotional scars. My art supports the tension of being in process and moving forward. Over the years, this work has evolved from static art hanging on a wall to vibrant interactive healing spaces involving others.

For example, I created Let Go, which showcased during ArtPrize 2017 in Grand Rapids, Michigan, as a positive step to work through a personal situation where I felt stuck—unable to let go of debilitating thoughts and emotions. By being vulnerable and willing to put my work out there, 70,000 ArtPrize visitors joined me on the creative healing journey by writing their own let go notes. The interactive public art helped many work through personal challenges, and countless individuals, besides myself, experienced emotional or spiritual freedom.

My latest work, Open Hands, an interactive traveling art experiment, is no exception. The work, first inspired by Babette’s Feast—a fictional story about a refugee’s plight, is about opening our fists in times of struggle and lending a hand to others. Like Babette, I am learning how to overcome adversity by redirecting my attention to the needs of others.

Writing message on Open Hands drawing

Here’s a bit of my backstory

When I was 19, my parents divorced. Our once bustling home was decimated overnight. My dad physically checked out; my mother emotionally checked out.

During school breaks, I found my childhood home completely empty. While wandering from room to room, each space felt silent—vacant. So, not only was I learning to deal with my parent’s divorce, but now deep loneliness crept into my life.

Sometimes, because of the isolation, I just sat on the floor and cried. The never-ending cycle of aloneness overwhelmed me. Finally, after a few months of constantly spiraling downward, I realized that in order to survive I needed a change. So, I left my Michigan home and moved to Southern California.

At first, the new adventure sparked hope, but I didn’t realize that my deep grief and debilitating depression would follow me all the way to the West Coast. My daily phone calls to my mom often ended with her repeating this mantra: “Get your thoughts off yourself, and do something nice for someone else.”

With nothing to lose, I decided to give my mom’s solution a try. When someone was sitting alone in the school cafeteria, I asked them to join me. When my grandmother sent homemade cookies, I shared them with my roommates. I also ended up assisting a schizophrenic patient during meal times through a volunteer school program at Camarillo State Hospital.

My mom’s wise counsel, at the time, was hard to understand. But looking back, she was helping me learn how to cope. She was teaching me to replace the inward focus on my own negative circumstances with an outward focus—benefiting others. While grieving my broken family was healthy and necessary, my traumatic experiences opened my heart and my art to the sorrows and needs of others.

Years later, I realized that, like me, so many others are stuck in hurtful situations. Brokenness is part of life. Illness, stress, loss, divorce, and suicide continue to interrupt our lives. Perhaps focusing our attention on others won’t solve all our problems, but overcoming the “selfie” attitude will help alleviate some of them.

Open Hands drawing with forgiveness message

Open Hands encourages closing our phones and opening our hands to the needs of others. The work calls for resiliency—growing through adversity, bouncing back, and learning to thrive for the wellbeing of others. Open Hands is about embracing brokenness through redemption and hope—by being part of the solution.

Where in the world is Open Hands? Follow on Instagram to find out and help reach the second goal of 2,500 handprints.

Broken Wings: Kaleidoscope

Broken Wings No. 5 in progress

Broken Wings No. 5 – Kaleidoscope

3 x 3 foot Mixed Media

A collaborative work with Breton and Raybrook Assisted Living Facilities and artist Pamela Alderman

Monarchs fly low to the ground on the southerly wind to migrate to a warmer climate. They also ride thermals, a rising column of air, like a hawk. The warm thermals lift the butterflies a few thousand feet upward, where the strong upper-air currents help them to glide forward.

Amazingly, one Holland Home resident caught a rare glimpse of the butterflies’ journey. “I watched a huge swarm of butterflies just waiting for the wind.” With the next strong gust, a kaleidoscope of color flew upward.

For Broken Wings No. 5, a kaleidoscope of talent collaborated to help assisted-living residents ride the creative winds like the Monarchs. To prepare the sponge art, one resident trimmed clothes pins with a band saw, creating a special easy-to-grip stamping tool; others cut two-inch pieces of sponges to grip with the clothes pins. Meanwhile, in Breton Woods’ carpenter shop, a group of men made the frames for the Holland Home Broken Wings Collection.

As various seniors with different abilities came together for this interactive art, one resident sat silently in his wheelchair with a faraway look in his eyes—just waiting. So, I decided to engage with him by singing acapella. Our eyes locked when I began to sing the doxology, and the elderly man mouthed each familiar word in unison. In that rare moment, two creative spirits experienced redemptive love—riding a kaleidoscope of hope upward.

Contact Pamela to schedule your Interactive Event Art.

Broken Wings: Legacy Journey

Broken Wings No. 4 in progress

Broken Wings No. 4 – Legacy Journey

3 x 3 foot Mixed Media

A collaborative work with Breton and Raybrook Assisted Living Facilities and artist Pamela Alderman

A Monarch butterflies takes about five generations to migrate from Canada to Mexico and back again. Scientists believe the butterflies have some sort of internal mechanism that guides them tothe Sierra Madre Mountains in Mexico. Some butterflies even return to the exact fir trees as their ancestors—where they safely roost to survive the winter.

Like the butterflies, an internal moral compass exists within each of us. Grandparents can help strengthen that moral compass for the next generations—through a legacy of faith and hope. The following generations can learn to safely navigate life’s storms by following their example.

For Broken Wings No. 4, residents and staff were invited to write legacy words on marbled paper, handmade paper with colorful swirls of paint. Words that represent who they were and what they stood for. Words about their favorite memories, songs, family stories, or values. The participants wrote healing words for their children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren to help guide them.

One resident talked about her difficult cancer journey as she picked up a pen. “After chemo therapy treatment, I couldn’t write at all for several months. But I was able to write on this butterfly!” Her emotional well-being took flight as this grandmother joyfully participated. After filling a couple of sheets of paper with precious words, she expressed deep gratitude for the chance to write her creative thoughts—a gift lost and then found again. Her bright smile and unwavering heart, reflected through a pen, helps align the moral compass for the next generation’s migration.

Contact Pamela to schedule your Interactive Event Art.

Broken Wings: Patterns of Resiliency

Broken Wings No. 3 in progress

Broken Wings No. 3 – Patterns of Resiliency

3 x 3 foot Mixed Media

A collaborative work with Breton and Raybrook Assisted Living Facilities and artist Pamela Alderman

Monarch butterflies migrate from Canada to Mexico every autumn. Somehow, millions of delicate butterflies complete the dangerous 3,000-mile journey in spite of severe weather, pesticides, and habitat loss. Like the Monarch, the Greatest Generation has shown us how to push through many treacherous obstacles—such as World War II and the Great Depression—for survival.

Staff members, the artist, and this generation, known for their work ethic and resiliency, tediously painted 324 plexiglass tiles. But no one could imagine the outcome because the thin blue film protecting the front side of the tiles wouldn’t be removed until the last class. So, during this stage of the artistic journey, our mosaic butterfly painting was secretly developing within the creative chrysalis.

From the onset, we discussed the word “survivor.” One senior felt prompted to portray her World War II experiences on the two-inch tiles. She said, “The blue and green stripes on the first tile represents the Allies flying over the Netherlands. The second tile depicts the time after the war when we were allowed to fly the red, white, and blue Dutch flag again.” Her example demonstrates how hardships and stress can strengthen us.

When the final tiles were glued into place, the residents gathered to witness the emergence of our Monarch butterfly. Their excitement grew as they eagerly located the tiles they had personally painted. Collectively, we celebrated the Greatest Generation and produced an elegant butterfly, giving subsequent generations a flight pattern—of faith, resiliency, and hope—to weather life’s uncertainties.

Contact Pamela to schedule your Interactive Event Art.

Participatory Art for Grandparents

Breton Woods and Raybrook residents participate in Broken Wings projects

The Breton Woods and Raybrook Assisted Living Facilities commissioned ArtPrize Top 20 artist Pamela Alderman to help guide residents through art engagement projects. For seven weeks under the direction Pamela, residents from all levels of care created six interactive healing pieces. The final work will be showcased during Holland Home’s Long-Term Care Week.

Breton Woods and Raybrook residents participate in Broken Wings projects

One resident’s son said this:

My mom had a great time in your art class. You truly encouraged and challenged her by helping her to be part of your art. Thanks for all you do for those with their own broken wings. Mark

Breton Woods and Raybrook residents participate in Broken Wings projects

Contact Pamela to schedule your Interactive Event Art.

Grandmother Was an Artist

Example of grandmother's knitting

My elegant grandmother, the middle of ten children, was born in 1903. Her father had to clear the land in northern Michigan before he could farm. So, like others from her generation, she needed to quit school after the ninth grade to work the farm. Her favorite subject was math.

As a young adult known for her mouthwatering pies, she moved to Grand Rapids, Michigan to work as a cook for a doctor. At 30, she moved back home and married my grandfather, a small businessman, who owned a confectionery shop, ran a creamery delivery service, and worked as a barber. My grandmother skillfully sewed her clothes by hand and also worked on the side as a seamstress.

Years later after returning back to Grand Rapids, she started knitting mittens to sell at bazaars. These mittens were for a special purpose. Grandma sold them to help children needing mental health services. As a child, I remember seeing a kaleidoscope of colorful balls of yarn in her basket—while delicious smells wafted from her oven. Sometimes she had several knitting and crocheting projects in process. I loved running my fingers over her colorful floral afghans or delicate crochet stitches that swirled into amazing patterns.

While quietly creating these beautiful works, my grandmother often prayed for me. Her faithful prayers carried me through my tumultuous childhood and my parents’ subsequent divorce. Somehow my grandmother’s art and prayers bolstered my creative spirit. And like my grandmother, I later discovered my own artistic spark coupled with the desire to help others.

After being widowed for twenty years, my grandmother finally succumbed to breast cancer, but I still hold her memory dear. Her intricate textiles, artfully displayed in my home, remind me of an industrious woman who served others through the works of her hands. My grandmother was an artist, and her art brought warmth, love, and comfort to many in need.

Columbine’s Redemption

Remembering ColumbineTwenty years ago, the Columbine High School tragedy happened. America sat in shock, frozen before the television. Kids were gunned down. At school. The killers laughing. Like playing Fortnite. In real life.

Sadly, history replayed. A few years later a milkman locked ten Amish girls in a Pennsylvania school house and pulled the trigger. Again. And again. And again. America shuttered, imagining the unimaginable: the last moments of the pure of heart.

Then Sandy Hook. No, not six-year-olds. America dropped to her knees, reeling in anguish.

In response to America’s heartbreaking school violence, Craig Scott, a former Columbine student, talked about his struggle with anger and hatred, and Frank DeAngelis, the former Columbine principal, said tougher gun laws, mental health services, and other supports are needed. But both Scott and DeAngelis agree that the main take away message from the Columbine tragedy is this: be kind to one another.

After the Columbine massacre while Tom and Sue Klebold, parents of one of the shooters, hid from America’s anger, their neighbors displayed a large banner to shift the narrative: “Sue & Tom, We Love You. We’re Here for You. Call Us.” These neighbors extended unconditional love.

Anne Marie Hochhalter, still paralyzed as a result of gunshot wounds at Columbine, demonstrated grace by writing a letter to the mother of her assailant: “I have no ill-will towards you. Just as I wouldn’t want to be judged by the sins of my family members, I hold you in that same regard. It’s been a rough road for me…because of my spinal cord injury and intense nerve pain, but I choose not to be bitter towards you. I have forgiven you.”

Twenty years after the bloodbath at school, these powerful examples of mercy and kindness show us how to step into our pain with healing. They show us how to embody divine beauty—in our brokenness. That horrific first, Columbine, has shown America something else: it has shown us how forgiveness and love can stop the hatred of bullets.