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the PDF of her book - National Aphasia Association

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46 Ruth Codier Resch Without Utterance:<br />

My Parsons flower drawing teac<strong>her</strong>, after many semesters<br />

with <strong>her</strong>, is leaving teaching. Like me, she is balancing <strong>her</strong> life<br />

and work with a disability, multiple sclerosis. She is leaving to<br />

concentrate on <strong>her</strong> textile design work. When I ask for a reference,<br />

she sends me to <strong>her</strong> own painting teac<strong>her</strong>.<br />

Henry Pearson, a well-known painter, nei<strong>the</strong>r shows his work or anyone<br />

else’s when he teaches. He quietly persists in our finding our own style. In<br />

<strong>the</strong> first class he talks practicals about materials, and that’s <strong>the</strong> end <strong>of</strong> class<br />

teaching.<br />

Instead he sits down with every one <strong>of</strong> us individually during <strong>the</strong> class,<br />

talks about poetry, movies, what I am doing or what I want to do, in my<br />

life or in my painting. If I want him to give me technical instruction, he will<br />

give only what I ask for. He creates an atmosp<strong>her</strong>e <strong>of</strong> ease and expression,<br />

wandering in personal experiment—seeing in <strong>the</strong> mind. Some students are<br />

painting in oils and o<strong>the</strong>rs in watercolor. Some are doing collage, and still<br />

o<strong>the</strong>rs are sculpting, though <strong>the</strong> class is titled “Abstract Watercolor.”<br />

I don’t know what I want to do, let alone how to experiment. Most <strong>of</strong><br />

<strong>the</strong> new people drop out by <strong>the</strong> third week. The rest are old-timers, some <strong>of</strong><br />

many years. I stay, not knowing why.<br />

Without class assignments, I bring my vase <strong>of</strong> flowers. I am comfortable<br />

<strong>her</strong>e, <strong>the</strong> students companionable. The three women at my table work in<br />

totally different styles, and it’s a lesson just watching how <strong>the</strong>y work. One<br />

is a ma<strong>the</strong>matics teac<strong>her</strong> and works with webs <strong>of</strong> grids. Ano<strong>the</strong>r paints in<br />

geometric spirals on a small canvas, changing <strong>the</strong> colors in small spaces each<br />

time she goes around. Though I am intimidated, it is <strong>the</strong> right place to be.<br />

Henry has an ability to see beyond what I am doing. He <strong>of</strong>fers visions<br />

to tweak my imagination. One day in my second year with him, he lends me<br />

a <strong>book</strong> <strong>of</strong> Japanese paintings.<br />

“Here, Ruth, look at <strong>the</strong>se. Find <strong>the</strong> work that is like yours.”<br />

I take <strong>the</strong> <strong>book</strong> home, delight in <strong>the</strong> misty, <strong>the</strong> spare, <strong>the</strong> ornate. The

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