Creating a New Path to My Artistic Voice with Charli Gordon

FOR STARTERS, A NOTE FROM JAN ~ This month's guest blogger is Charlene (Charli) Gordon. I met Charli on a cruise last fall and was intrigued when she told me how she helped a woman with Alzheimer’s continue to paint, even when she was no longer able to manipulate a paint brush. Charli agreed to share a little about the winding path of her creative journey, and I'm glad she did. I hope you’ll enjoy reading her post as much as I have.

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AND NOW, FINDING MY CREATIVE VOICE  WITH CHARLI GORDON ~ The journey of an artist is rarely straightforward. It’s a winding path filled with moments of inspiration, self-doubt, and sometimes, long pauses where the brush lies untouched. Here, I delve into my personal artistic journey, sharing the highs, the lows, and all the times I stepped away from creating. 

My love for art began at a very early age.  Like most children crayons, markers, pens and anything that would make a mark were my tools for expressing my feelings and emotions. Simple sketches became doodles that evolved into an exploration of creativity that have profoundly shaped my identity over the years. It wasn’t long before I realized art was more than just a hobby.

With everything in life, there are challenges and turning points along our journey. When I was 16, a severe horse accident confined me to bed, giving me plenty of time to reflect and invent.  My mind was overflowing with ideas along with frustration. I needed to use my hands to release the thoughts and ideas. With a pen and a notebook on my bedstand, I scribbled and doodled. Draw Me were little notices for art instruction scholarships that ran in magazines and newspapers.  Draw the picture and submit for a chance for a scholarship in an art school.  I just wanted to draw. But my mother chose to send these drawings in.  

In the 1970s, these ads ran frequently in newspapers and magazines. One caught Charli's attention. Without her knowledge, Mom submitted Charli's work on her behalf. "Mom!"

I was soon enrolled in the correspondence school. My journey of discovery was set on fire.  I began to discover how to put those images and emotions down on paper and well, anything I could. Returning to school the last part of my junior year, I submitted a design for the junior senior prom. The theme was “Beyond the Yellow Brick Road,” a popular Elton John song in 1974. I submitted my idea of the inside walls of the Emerald City of Oz to be drawn on twenty 30 x 12 ft paper murals. My submission was accepted.

Charli's first BIG Backdrop Drawing was for prom; the theme was "Beyond the Yellow Brick Road."

This became a moment of discovery for me. I wasn’t drawing small, I was drawing big. My whole mind and body worked in the creation of these murals. It was as though I was living in each one. 

Charli would go on to create many more big backdrops throughout the years, including this one ~ Moonlit Snowscape. But not without a few detours along the way.

Life is seldom a linear journey. After graduating from high school, my only thoughts went to getting out of the small town and seeing and experiencing bigger things.  Along with this came a time when the wellspring of creativity seemed to dry up.  As I grew older, the demands of life began to encroach on my creative time. School, extracurricular activities, and the pressure to excel academically pushed art to the sidelines. During this period, my canvases collected dust, and my sketchbooks remained closed.   

With the birth of my first child, my focus was on creating a path for a better life for her. I headed to college pursuing a business degree. All was going well, or so I told myself. Somehow, I felt frustration as though a piece of me was missing. I realized my creativity had hit the wall. I had walked away from my dreams. So now I began the struggle, attempting to force the art to emerge, believing that sheer will could conquer the paralysis of creativity that had grown within me.  

I had to find a way to come back. Even if it meant starting it all over again. I needed an extra credit in my class schedule, and I found an art class that fit in my busy life as a student, mother and secretary. The class added layers to my understanding of artistry, ultimately guiding me toward fresh techniques and concepts.

My instructor approached me concerning a submission I made for a Juried showing. She told me that my work in realism showed much inspiration and ability. “But you have a gift for more landscape style work,” she said. “I want to introduce you to someone in the theatre. They are looking for an apprentice to assist in painting backdrops for their theatrical productions.” Soon I was painting backdrops for several local theaters.

This was it. The one thing that always held the most time in my memories and thoughts was creating those 30 ft. murals in high school. I had to paint big. I had to put my whole mind and body into the creation of my art. 

Mural backdrop - Trees on Water.

Mural backdrop - Dusky Forest Path.

As my passion grew, so did my self-doubt. A major bump in my journey came when I started to compare myself to the more experienced artists I was working with.  I questioned my abilities and often felt like an imposter.  This period was filled with frustration and a sense of inadequacy.  However, it was also a turning point, and I learned from it. 

Amidst the struggles, I discovered the importance of finding my unique artistic voice.  My art had been about realism, and I needed to find a freedom to experiment without boundaries.

During COVID quarantine, I began taking abstract painting courses online. The freedom to experiment without boundaries helped me break free from the constraints of comparison. I started to embrace my imperfections and view them as part of my artistic identity.  This shift in perspective was liberating and allowed me to create more authentically. During this time, I turned sixty-three and decided I would retire.   

That didn’t last long. With the suggestion and encouragement of a friend, I became a caregiver for seniors with Alzheimer’s. Working with Alzheimer’s individuals can be both challenging and rewarding.  One effective way to engage them and enhance their quality of life is through art.

With this new journey, I soon met and began working with a lady in fairly early stages. I’ll call her Lizzy. We had an immediate bond and many wonderful conversations in the first couple of years. I was always searching for new ways to stimulate her mind and body. She loved art but said she couldn’t draw or paint. One day I brought paint and canvas just to have some fun.  When we sat down, she said she didn’t want to paint. “That’s okay, Lizzy,” I told her, “we are going to put some paint on here and just see what happens.” I poured the paint and then put a small chain in her hand. I assisted her in pulling paint on the canvas with the chain to form a flower. When I told her that’s all we needed to do and we could stop, she responded with a resolute NO! We finished that canvas. And another.  

Lizzy's Flowers ~ chain-dragged paint on canvas.

As my journey with Lizzy continued, we completed several paintings. But as her Alzheimer’s progressed, she was unable to hold even the large handle brushes I brought.

But her joy for painting remained.  I was running out of ideas. One day I was blowing up balloons for a party and found myself holding a partially filled balloon in the palm of my hand. And the idea was right there. Lizzy and I sat down to paint and this time, I poured paint on the canvas and put the small balloon in her hand. I helped her touch the balloon to the canvas. She began moving the balloon back and forth. Soon the most amazing abstract sunset appeared. Lizzy said, “I’m not a painter.”  However, one of her paintings sold for $1,000 at an Alzheimer’s annual art auction. 

Lizzy's Sunset ~ balloon-and-paint on canvas ~ sold for $1,000 at an Alzheimer’s annual art auction. 

Lizzy taught me so much in my few years with her and inspired me to continue assisting seniors in finding their inner artist and creativity. Moreover, the passing of time has a miraculous way of providing clarity.  I’ve come to embrace the idea that creative blocks are not a deficiency but an essential part of the artistic process. They challenge us to rethink, reimagine and rediscover our innate motivation. Time nurtures this cyclical nature of creativity, inviting us to trust in the process and listen deeply to the stories we wish to tell. 

Custom Christmas card by Charli Gordon.

Wyoming ~ painting on canvas by Charli Gordon; created for and gifted to Lizzy, based off a photo she took on a family trip.

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ENDNOTE FROM JAN ~ Charli’s creative journey continues. While she loves doing the “big stuff” like backdrops for plays, she also enjoys creating smaller works like custom cards and paintings. Charli typically blocks her paintings with acrylics and then details them in oil. She also works in inks and watercolor. If you’d like to talk to her more about her creations, you can email her at:

charligordon2015@gmail.com

COMING UP ~ Next month’s post will feature Jim and Fabian Gilchrist, two Valentines who credit creativity as one of the keys to their long-lasting marriage and love story.

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What's in it for you? A blog post celebrating creativity straight to your e-mailbox each month, as well as an e-newsletter chock full of book news and reviews and other surprises (e.g., recipes, game and movie recs, a chance to win bookish giveaways, and more).

As always, thank you for reading!

Cheers ~ Jan