Plying with the Palatte

Mark Allison has been a Community Education instructor at LBCC for 25 years, a recipient of the 2003 Teacher of the Year award, and an accomplished artist.

The son of a photographer and a civil engineer, his life has been largely influenced by aesthetics, composition, and creation. The first time he sat at an easel, made by his parents, he was 5 years old. That was the start of what would become his lifelong passion.

His Open Studio class, one of several he teaches through Community Education, is designed for beginning to advanced artists to create freely with Mark’s guidance when requested.

On an April morning, 15 people came to create, ages spanning from teenager to retiree. One painted a portrait of his sister’s dog for her birthday. Another painted his son’s ‘63 Chevy for his birthday. Someone else painted a landscape from a photo on her phone. Some used pencils, some used paint, some used charcoal. 

A group of students gathered around Mark who began a color intensity exercise. On a piece of paper, he showed them different styles of applying paint. He discussed how the oils on your hands affect the paper, how the dampness of your brush will react on paper, and how a paint stroke will look based on the pressure applied.

“Working with water is kind of like driving in traffic - you have to kind of hurry along,” he told the students. “You have to carefully access the dampness of the paper.”

He showed onlookers how to mix colors to make other colors, and recommended colors to use or not use. He cautioned of things to consider when choosing colors. He explained in poetic detail why he prefers some colors over others.

“The color yellow is for relaxation, often used by color therapists,” he told them. “Blue reduces heart rate so it’s a great color for a bedroom. Red does the opposite.”

Looking at the palette in front of him, he pointed to a vibrant red.

“The color of love,” he said, “it just opens your heart looking at it.” 

Around the classroom, Mark displayed paintings used as visuals to show techniques he referred to. Many of the works used Cubism, a technique made famous by Pablo Picasso, where geometric shapes create two-dimensional images. 

“I like using sharp edges,” he told his students “Jagged and sharp edges get both right and left brain to look at them.”

Since the left side of the brain wants to create order and the right side does not, Mark explained the tidiness of the geometric shapes that create abstract images gives the brain both order and chaos, attracting both sides to engage.

Mark encouraged his students to understand the rules of painting; why things are taught the way they are.

“Once you learn the rules you can then start to challenge them,” he told the class. “But first, you learn the rules.”

With many accomplishments as an artist in his own right, Mark was selected to design the 2009 Fall Festival poster and has received a Purchase Award from Oregon State University for his works featuring agriculture. 

*This content was written for Linn-Benton Community College Extended Learning. 

Gifts of Sensitivity

Catherine VanWetter grew up feeling like she was different than those around her. She was often told she was “too sensitive” or “too fragile” and that she needed to “get over it” when things bothered her more than others thought it should. She spent a lot of time punishing herself for feeling too much.

Catherine now knows she is different. And she knows she does feel more than others. She has made it her life’s work to educate people about her gift—her gift of sensitivity. 

As is 15-20% of the population, Catherine is a Highly Sensitive Person (HSP). HSPs have neurological systems designed to feel more than the other 80%. They have heightened sensitivity about oneself, others, and their environment.

“They are shamans and medicine people of indigenous peoples,” Catherine said. “They are the peacemakers, the counselors, those that are intuitive and empathetic.” 

Catherine has dedicated her career working in community mental health so that she can help other HSPs.

“Being sensitive in my family was not really a blessing,” she said. “All of my training was self-preservation and to find like-minded people.”

And that she has done.

“When sensitives are in a room together it’s like we’ve all written the other’s story,” Catherine said. ”Our stories aren’t that different.”

In the 30 years she has worked in the Corvallis area, Catherine has had many clients who battle depression and contemplate suicide. She has found about 75% of the people she has worked with are HSPs. 

“We live in a culture that is sometimes less than kind to people who are timid, kind, and emotional,” she said. “And those people might find it hard to fit in.”

HSPs tend to feel the mood of those around them, taking on emotions that are not their own. Because of this, it can be hard for HSPs to decipher if what they are feeling is their own or someone else’s. 

Catherine has learned that depression, anxiety, suicidal thoughts, and isolation are side effects of being an HSP. This is because HSPs have heightened physical, mental, and emotional responses to stimuli, making them overwhelmed by the amount of information they must process. They find it difficult to quiet the sounds, smells, lights, and other stimuli around them. 

“When most people have 10 fingers to feel with, imagine the HSP has 50,” Catherine said.

She believes that many people choose to suppress or ignore their sensitivity because our society employs the mindset that we must be strong and thick-skinned.

“It is my mission to educate people, to empower them to educate others, and create a culture where sensitives can live in alignment,” she said.

In her work, Catherine helps HSPs and their families create a proper balance in their day which might include meditation, creative arts, walks in nature, or yoga. She helps HSPs and their loved ones learn which environments serve them best. 

This fall, Catherine will teach a class through Community Education called HSP: Thriving in the Workplace, focusing on how to create functional and welcoming working environments for the HSP.

*This content was written for Linn-Benton Community College Extended Learning.

Local organization ready to award $35,000 in scholarships

Photo courtesy of creative commons.

Local organization readies to award nearly $35,000 in scholarships to Linn-Benton Community College and Oregon State University students. Deadlines approach in early April.

Each year, Zonta Club of Corvallis awards scholarships to OSU and LBCC students. An international organization that works to empower women through service and advocacy, Zonta has 67 clubs worldwide. 

“We want to support women in pursuing careers that help improve the status of women,” said Debrah Rarick, scholarship committee chair for Zonta of Corvallis. “And to help women pursue careers in non-traditional fields for women, particularly in the STEM (science, technology, engineering, math) fields.” 

The hope, according to Rarick, is that the scholarships for a technical field of study will encourage women to enter the field and break down barriers, and that recipients will then serve as role models for women to also choose fields less populated with women.

“Giving scholarships is one way to show students that we believe in them and want to help them reach their goals,” said Rarick.

To raise the money for the scholarships, Zonta of Corvallis holds fundraisers throughout the year. The main event is the Zonta Auction and Dinner held each November. The event features auction items and the opportunity for attendees to give tax-deductible donations. 

From donations last year, this year at least seven $3,000 scholarships will be given to women pursuing careers in STEM fields. Other scholarships with specific criteria are the Starns, for a single parent attending LBCC, the Grateful Nation, for a woman who has served in the Armed Forces, the Career Technical Education, for an LBCC student in a CTE program, and the Klausman, available for women in business.

At least four $3,000 general scholarships will be given to LBCC or OSU students who had a minimum of a one-year delay in pursuing their college studies, have an interest in pursuing a career that advances the status of women, and have financial need.  

Although Zonta focuses much effort on service to women, men are not excluded from applying for scholarships, as long as their field of study supports the advancement of women.

Full scholarship descriptions, requirements, and deadlines are listed on Zonta of Corvallis’ website.

A Century of Stories to Tell

Trudie Timpone, February 2018, 102-years-old.

I’d never met someone with a century of stories to tell, until a few weeks ago when I met Trudi Timpone. She is 102 years young.

A few days before I met her, the house next door was demolished. I watched one morning as it disappeared. With each swing of the excavator, I thought how unfortunate it was that a house standing since 1901 disappeared in about the same amount of time it took me to make and drink my coffee.

As I watched the excavator slam its boom into the second-story of that old, red farmhouse, I heard the sound of its walls caving in, collapsing under their own weight, crashing down, and swallowing all the stories held between them, forever. 

I heard from neighbors that the house was one of the original homes in the area. It used to be surrounded by a vast orchard, they said. It was built just decades after Philomath was renamed from its first given name by pioneers, Mary’s River Settlement.

I began to think of what the world was like when that old farmhouse was built. In 1901, baseball had not yet held its first World Series game; Henry Ford had not yet founded Ford Motor Company; the first silent film had not yet been made. 

On the day I met Trudi, my experience watching that century-old house disappear was fresh on my mind. Then, I realized, Trudi was almost as old as that house. She was a keeper of stories, just like that house had been. 

Many of Trudi’s stories are from a time I’ve only read about: The Roaring Twenties, The Prohibition, The Great Depression. I was overwhelmed thinking about all she has witnessed in her 102 years. And I was eager to ask her some questions. 

Her answer to one particular question resonated with me for days. I had asked what she thought people and society have today that is for better or worse. Her answer was quick and matter of fact.

“I grew up during The Depression, so a nickel was very important,” she said. “I don’t think I’d want to live that again, but maybe we have too much now. Things are a little too easy for people today.”

After pondering a few days about what she had said, I came to understand how Trudi may think we have it too easy. I began to notice the things that frustrated me throughout my day - wifi being too slow, lines at the store being too long, Facebook making another annoying update - none of which threatened my well-being. 

Trudi, however, remembers a time when people stood in the cold for hours just to get their daily ration of bread in hopes of surviving another day. A time when people, such as herself, walked the eight miles from Wall Street to 44th Avenue in New York because they didn’t have the nickel it cost to ride the subway. 

The thought of this comparison gave me a moment of clarity I won’t soon forget. I’ve come to realize that the hardships that Trudi and many others from her generation faced are foreign to my middle-class, Millennial mindset. I don’t worry about where my next meal comes from, or if our house will be heated this winter. I do, however, worry about whether I have cell reception or if I can charge my laptop. 

Since meeting Trudi and witnessing the demise of the old farmhouse, I’ve spent much time thinking about time. I’ve concluded that time really does change everything. That life is full of fleeting moments that will never happen again. That our tomorrows may bring things we’ve never even dreamed possible. That our todays are like time capsules, made of stories that forever hold the essence of time passed. 

I can’t help but wonder how lucky we would all be to get the chance to collect a century of stories to tell.

102 Years Young: Trudi Timpone Writes Her Life Story

When Trudi Timpone strolled into Linn-Benton Community College’s class entitled “Write Your Life Story,” she had 102 years of experiences to consider for her assignments. Her daughter was the one who enrolled her, and since Timpone stopped driving at the age of 99, her daughter also drops her off at class.

With dangling earrings and the Star of David hanging around her neck, Timpone took her seat at the table and instructor Lori McNulty moved her four-wheeled walking aid with a padded seat out of the aisle. 

“Trudie, I’m going to move your Cadillac,” McNulty said with a smile.

Class began with the ring of a handheld bell. Around the table sat 10 ladies, most with salt and pepper hair. Each had a handwritten nameplate in front of them. Each had come prepared with a story and photos they brought to accompany it. They were ready to share aloud with the class. 

The first volunteer shared a story about her husband, then boyfriend, and how they got together. Another told a story from her cat’s perspective entitled “Tiger’s Thoughts on Travel,” that recounted the struggles of her feline friend during a move. Someone else told the story of a wedding bouquet she made as a floral designer that was a replica of the one Princess Diana held.

Each story read was detailed, using imagery to place the audience in an exact time and place. Some were light-hearted or funny, others were sad or serious. Conversations sparked between stories, and, at times, the room was filled with a cacophony of chatter. With the ring of her bell, McNulty would refocus the class and give constructive feedback before the next person read.

When it was Timpone’s turn, she shared the story of “Sam,” a painter she knew as a child. A family friend much older than her at the time, she recalled sitting in silence in Sam’s studio and watching him work. Her delight in recalling Sam, a character long in her past, shown on her face as she credited him for her lifelong love of painting. 

“I painted just about everything I could - it’s fun,” she said.

She told the class that after decades of it being lost, last year she found a painting she did of Sam. It’s one of her prized possessions, she said, and now hangs in the Corvallis Arts Center. She passed around a photo of her painting of Sam, and tears came to her eyes as she looked at the face of a man who clearly inspired her many years ago. 

In the notebook she held in her lap, Timpone kept other stories she wrote for class. There was the one about the July day in 1943 when she met her husband, Ted, and after a whirlwind courtship how they were married by mid-August. Her favorite song to this day is Begin the Beguine by Cole Porter, a classic from 1938 to which she and Ted danced on the night they met. 

In her collection, there were stories of job hunting during a time when women got limited work. There were stories about her dad and photos of him in a World War I uniform. There was the story of “The Lost Nickel,” a time she walked from Wall Street to 44th Avenue in New York because she was embarrassed she didn’t have the nickel it cost to ride the subway. 

“I grew up during The Depression so a nickel was very important,” she said. “I don’t think I’d want to live that again, but maybe we have too much now. Things are a little too easy for people today.”

She moved from New York to Los Angeles in her 20s. She served meals to soldiers at the Hollywood Canteen during World War II. She joined the Women’s Army Auxiliary Corps to help further with the war effort. She remembers President Roosevelt and “all he did for the children.” She’s amazed we’ve had a man on the moon. 

Although she can no longer type, with over a century of stories to tell, her family is helping her write her stories so that her three children, seven grandchildren, and five great-grandchildren may continue to know her after she’s gone. 

“I have a wonderful family,” Timpone gushed. “They are all so wonderful.”

But, despite her 102 years, she has no plans of going anywhere soon. Her mind is sharp, her laugh is contagious, and her wisdom is beyond what many have the chance to gain. She plans to take more classes, maybe a pottery class next time, she said. 

We, at Linn-Benton Community College Extended Learning, are proud to be part of Timpone’s story. Are you ready to start writing yours?