February Director’s Desk

Ledger From 1983

Perusing old ledgers gave me chance to think about all of the ways the Los Alamos Arts Council has touched the community in our 80 odd years.

I don’t know about you, but I am tired. It can feel, some days, like all I do is think about what is left to do, and then the day is over. The news cycle is exhausting and can be a bit overwhelming these days. So I wanted to do something more creative than a newsletter to kick off our new year. Something that let us connect to the people we work for. Every day I hear from folks who feel like I do. They’re worn out by the news, by the feelings that things are changing faster than they can keep up, whether in the world, at work, or at home. I hear the same things over and over “I just feel so out of it”, or “I don’t have any energy to do the things I like” or, and I think this one hurts to hear the most, “I’m just so lonely all the time”. I’ve been asking myself how we, at the LAAC, can help. How do we take the resources we’ve been given by the community and make sure that we can alleviate some of the weariness? Some of the loneliness?

We always start the year slowly over here. The Fuller Lodge Art Center of the holidays can feel a bit spooky in January and February. Fewer hours open to the public to get our new year chores out of the way, like inventory, cleaning, and strategy sessions with our staff and board are a far cry from the hustle and bustle of Affordable Arts and the holiday season.

Our classrooms sat empty in January, and whenever I’d walk by one on the way to the office, I’d think about the noise and chaos of summer camps, when dozens of kids fill the space and it’s not unusual to find googly eyes or feathers in the bathroom, or to see cardboard castles the size of small humans taking up corners normally reserved for tables and chairs. But in January, they’re quiet. It feels anticipatory and a little melancholy.

So this last week, I decided to dig out some historical documents that are stored on site and see if maybe there was something in them that would give me a spark or an idea of what more we can do to reach out and get in touch with those of you who might feel like we do. That might be wondering where to start, or how to get a little glimmer into a future where that weariness and loneliness is just a bit lighter. I just needed something to help me “get on track”.

It’s always fascinating when I pull one of these old record books out and start looking at the names in them. For a little context, the Los Alamos Arts Council has always been a haven for the creatives in town, as far back as the Manhattan Project. You just have to drive down Bathtub Row and see the “Arts and Crafts” house to know that even during those dark days, when the world was uncertain and the community here found themselves driven to find a solution to a world on the brink, art was a part of their lives. I took this job because I believe in the transformative nature of art, creativity, and community and to be a part of something as entrenched in those beliefs as the Arts Council. It felt like I’d finally come home to what I was meant to do. It can be hard; harder than anything I’ve ever done certainly, to be a part of such a lasting legacy and to feel the weight and responsiblity that goes with that. But the joy it has brought? I wouldn’t trade that for an easier gig or a bigger paycheck or a fancier office chair.

Opening up the ledgers I had snagged at random, I found that one was from my birth year. I sat at my desk, running my fingers over each name and page, and I cried. It was such a connection to where I was and where we had been as an organization, and it felt that this random moment was a message to me, that in my own weariness, it wasn’t time to give up yet. No matter how hard the last six months has been, we’re doing something important. I can feel that, I can ground in that.

Visitor check ins to the Fuller Lodge Art Center, 1979

So this Monday I gathered up the staff (all three of us!) and we had a brainstorm session. We talked about what’s working, what needs work, what we need help with and how we can take our limited resources and create something this year that’s deeper than simply “executing programs”; something that brings meaning to people’s days. Places to connect, learn, create, and simply be. It’s always been a part of our recent mission: to make spaces for folks to belong and we are on the right track as a community. We have some good plans moving forward that we’ll be sharing in the coming days and weeks.

What does all of this planning and plotting and moving forward mean? I’m not sure we know yet. What we do know is folks are responding to the small changes we implemented last year and they’re asking for more. They’re at our Crafts and Drafts get togethers at Bathtub Row Brewing; not because we’re teaching them anything, but because we are making time and space for them to come hang out with others who want to create and craft and be together. The kids are coming into the classrooms again; not because we’re offering them the opportunity to be the next Picasso (although some sure are on that track), but because we’re offering a space to create, play, and more importantly, make mistakes without judgment. We have our steadfast partner at Samizdat Bookstore & Teahouse secure for another year (we were really scared for a minute), slinging beans, bringing poets and authors together, and helping us plan our next Literary Festival and we reached out to some great authors nationally who, to our surprise, also seem to like what we’re doing and have agreed to start talking about a visit. We have our friends and neighbors bringing us new ideas, new energy, and who are just like us: weary, a bit lonely, but hopeful.

We’re in it to build a community that is strong, resilient, and resistant to a world that seems oh so quick to be filled with hateful words and demoralizing news. Getting out these little ledgers was a last ditch effort for me last week to try to find an idea. Instead, I realized, the idea has always been the same: create, connect, build community. It’s at the core of everything we do year in and year out. Create. Connect. Build Community. That’s what art has done for milennia, and the opportunity the Los Alamos Arts Council has been given here in our little town that grew up on our little plateau, is not one we will squander. So if you see us, and we look a little tired, or a little scattered, or a little sad, please know that under all of that we have hope. We have seen each and every person who has stepped in to tell us “I just love this space so much” or “I needed that” after a class or crafting session. We watch kids come into our classrooms overwhelmed by the prospect of being free to create on their own terms and leave having blown us away with their creativity. We have seen every person who has contributed, either time, financially, or in sharing their works with the world and we are so humbled by the way this community stands behind the same mission we believe in.

Look for more notes from us. Sometimes they’ll be musings. Sometimes they’ll be news. Sometimes they might just be a bit silly from the desks of our staff or board or volunteers. We hope these are a way to be more human with you. It’s a way for us to also stretch our own creative legs (newsletters can be a bit…constraining) To show you who we are behind the emails and the outreach and to share a bit of ourselves because you do that every single time you interact with us, and we’re so grateful to have a community as strong as the one we have had for the last eight decades. Thank you for being a part of this with us, for keeping us upright and forward facing. Thank you and let’s get together and eat some beans, or share a draft, and talk about community. Let’s create. Let’s connect. Let’s build this community side by side for another 80 years.
-B.