Rising From the Ashes, by Elaine Frennet

 

My story begins, of course, when I was born in Denver as an only child and grew into an outdoors, tomboy girl who preferred to play cars with the kids next door. My parents liked to fish and often we would go to a cabin up in the mountains where they caught suckerfish, which they would throw up on the bank. I would build little dams filled with water, trying to keep them alive. The outdoors and nature have always been a part of my life; this is how I was brought up, but my home wasn’t a happy one.  

  

My father was a practicing, abusive alcoholic, and one time I even witnessed him attack my mother and it was a very painful thing for this young child to try and process. When I was around eight or ten, he left our home, but he came back to get his gun. Later that day, he committed suicide. While I was relieved the drama was over, my mother was left alone and not happy being left to raise me.  

  

But then she and my gay uncle bought a house together and I adored him. He was a very gentle, quiet man yet when he spoke, it was meaningful and important. We became very close; in fact, he is a large part of how I live today as he gifted me with stock holdings.

  

I was a little rebel and in middle and high school but I made very good grades, A’s, and graduated with college plans. But because I was naive, I decided to marry a boy a year younger than me and it lasted seven years. He enlisted in the Navy and was injured. It was then things just fell apart.  

 

From that point on I was on my own supporting myself and venturing where I was lured. During this period, I lived in many paradises. I spent several years in the spectacular beauty of Telluride, Colorado working and savoring the outdoors. A period was spent in New Orleans, Louisiana where I learned the art of framing and the joys of Cajun music and food. One summer I lived in Bar Harbor, Maine, where I saved to take a trip with girlfriends to Italy, England, and Scandinavian countries. Eventually, I moved to California while continuing to waitress. Yet I had this aching inside to follow my gift of art; but by that time, I had become what my dad had been, a practicing alcoholic and had also been introduced to cocaine. At the end of my drinking, I worked at some pretty sad places.

  

Eventually, in 1985, with Alcoholics Anonymous, I got sober. And my dream of becoming an artist came alive again. I had attempted art when I was drunk but my attempts were defeating. Sober, I applied to college and was accepted with full financial aid through grants, earning my degree in Graphic Arts with an Illustration Focus and no debt! I was around 41 when I graduated. Then I had to try to earn a living as an illustrator which proved difficult. Finally, I found a job where I could work two days a week at a naturist club, clothing-optional, in Los Gatos, and live for free. It was filled with free-spirited people which was wonderfully refreshing. I lived there for several years until I met my next husband-to-be.  

  

We fell in love and moved in together, marrying after four years. It was a wonderful time because we traveled, hiked, and camped to our hearts' content. During this time my art business thrived. I’d moved into fine art, started doing shows and going to classes. At one show I entered I was graced with “Best of Show”. Eventually, my dream of leading a women’s retreat came to fruition at the first retreat I lead which was in Manzanillo, Mexico with a tandem instructor. We eventually moved to Oregon and I continued with my art, started teaching and continued leading my retreats. The Sierra women’s retreats were magical, I still get choked up remembering what happens when women gather together, it is like some sort of prayer has been answered.   

  

There was no way to plan the serendipitous events that transpired at these retreats. Bookings were made and the mystery was put in motion. One lady who was eighty-five and crippled with arthritis met a woman who was one hundred pounds overweight, also suffering from arthritis, who declared she just could not draw. The overweight woman had retired from being a penitentiary guard, but Kitty, the eighty-five-year-old coerced her into realizing that she could draw. She never said she couldn’t draw again. It was amazing to witness the transformation and the impact each woman had on the other. These retreats were the high point of my life for years until the fires started in Yosemite and we never knew if there would be fires or smoke, putting the retreats temporarily on hold. Now my current dream is reviving those retreats here in Mexico. 

Around this time my marriage began to deteriorate, my husband was experiencing depression, our communication was gone and he treated me with disdain. So, I decided to move out and had started placing things into storage when I discovered I had breast cancer. No surprise, I decided to stay. I attempted to leave several other times and was once successful for three months, living with three different girlfriends. But I seemed to always return.  

  

Previously, he and I talked about moving to Mexico, but by now I had begun planning to move here alone. Then one day in counseling he exclaimed “I have always wanted to move to Mexico!” so we came and rented a condo together. When we returned to the US, I discovered he had been sexting with a number of women. That turned the tide, I made up my mind that this was not someone I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. So, I called a lawyer and within two months, we were divorced.  Ironically, we had just sold our house and everything was packed when a fire stormed through our town, and everything one block from us was torched, missing our house. We flew out, as planned, two days after the fire.  

  

A few years prior I discovered my father and a remote uncle had molested me and I was also working through that. However, at the same time, six good friends betrayed or rejected me and without clarification nor kindness. But that led me to understand the Universe was telling me that I had been settling for friends who weren’t in my best interests. This provided just another life event that released me to move to Mexico. One of the things I learned about children who have been molested is that they crave things to be “safe and controlled” but this led me to be very cautious and careful. Sadly, this also kept me in friendships and relationships that weren’t healthy for me. Finally, I came to a point of surrendering and trusting in the Universe. And at that point, the doors just started opening and I began trusting myself.  

  

All during this time in sobriety, my artwork had become my anchor. Through the Illustration I learned, I could be an artist, I could draw, and had a keen eye. When I traversed into Fine Art I took the confidence I’d gained in Illustration and finally followed my heart, painting and swirling in the marvelous world of watercolor where pigments dance freely together – and I found myself freed. Along that path, intermixing sketching/painting on site, I was stewarded into a new, deep and rich passion: Visual Art Journaling. Finally, I could combine the process of self-examination/emotional perspective with both images and text. A place where I unearthed my ability to not only paint more spontaneously from what I see outside but also, images began coming to me from within. It was a profound gift in my art career and part of what I yearn to share and develop, in particular, with women. 

With two beloved artist friends, we’d launched a project that has stood the test of time since 2005, us moving to different places and even my move to Mexico. With our “Traveling Conversations” project our initial aim was to stay in touch and it grew into so much more! This collaborative effort at first was small exchanges of individual 5x7” images, with visual responses (no words) from each of us individually (we now have near 200 of these). Eventually, we started doing full watercolor sheet pieces where we’d all paint to create a final piece. I counted on the mail system to bring me these exciting packages that have taught me humility, working in harmony, speaking my true feelings, mutual admiration and new experimental techniques … and a deep abiding love for my friends. And knowing my art has saved my life. In retrospect, I feel my artistic development and expression is one of the ways I’ve been able to express my personal growth and recovery, my greatest asset.

 

When I view my moving to Mexico, Ajijic, in particular, during the pandemic, I see it as positive, realizing I have no comparison of how life was before. I love the friendliness of the people, the relaxed attitude, the beauty and colors, and the vast creative possibilities that are around every corner. People back in Oregon ask me “Do you want to come back?” and my response is “Why?”  

  

Now, with meeting so many friends who are like-minded and open, I can’t imagine moving back.  

https://elainefrennet.com

https://visualartjournaling.com