MENU


HOME

ARTISTS

SUPPORTING ARTISTS

ABOUT US

HOW TO JOIN

BAS IN THE NEWS

BAS EVENTS

LINKS

MESSAGEBOARD

CONTACT

 

Michael M. Michaelson

Michael M. Michaelson's Artwork



Artist Statement

Here are Some Things About myself, A Blind Artist! Wow, where does a Blind man named Michael begin in the telling of his tale?

Well, I have been declared legally blind since I was 5 years old. Blind meaning that most of my vision was destroyed when my curiosity  brought me to either, stare at the sun in total ignorance, or watch welders high intensity flashes of brilliant blue  while walking home from school. Yes, at the age of four I did walk home from school, all alone, at least two miles on very busy streets of a large nasty city and lived to tell the story. 
The doctors and experts really don’t know exactly what might have caused it but they feel it might have been due to me staring at the welding flashes which burned out my central vision, known as the retina, meaning that the very center of where all the pictures are focused was pretty well destroyed. This meant that my brain would constantly have to move my eyes around trying to focus all the incoming light onto the remaining cells. They have several names for this but I just call it being blind. 
 Now my parents didn’t discover my loss and poor vision until one day when my poor father, while driving told me to tell him when the signal light turned green and in fun, he would then go. This was sort of a game but soon it turned out to be a very heavy burden for my life and for my family. Even today I can still remember that exact feeling within the car and those frightened looks upon my parents faces when I could not see any Green Light! That was the day my life was altered, and I became an abnormal child, or you might say different. Now this tragic event put my life and family onto a path of many trials and tests. And since then, I became a handicapped person, a partially sighted human, and accumulated many other titles throughout my days, not all of them being favorable.
Over the years my sight slowly deteriorated, eventually leading me into a realm of shadows and blurs. Glasses or operations could not fix or repair this inner damage, but I did have the great privilege and opportunity to have seen colors and many beautiful things throughout the times of my life when my vision was not yet obliterated. No, I was never able to see a face clear or look into anyone’s eyes. I was never able to play baseball or drive, except for when I was forced to for the sake of keeping my job but that is another spooky story.
Never was I able to see the chalk board at School and never was I able to read a book on my own. In my time of youth, there were no programs that aided me with anything other than a kind teacher named Mrs. Hastings that read stories to me (Thank you). I had to make it through school on my own. This constant stress of having to keep up with everyone, and pretend, to see things that I could not see or relate to, was a mind altering experience in itself. I will say that this is where my imagination really grew and I mean expanded beyond normalcy! I had to do everything in order to Stay within the accepted social group, and get by or be looked upon, as a freak.  This took its toll on my heart and upon my mind and even though I tried to be a part of the social scene, I had a hard time fitting into any acceptable social group other than those of outcasts and Rebels.
School and Class time was spent drawing every sort of odd picture, because I could not see the board and the teachers just pushed me along, really not knowing how to deal with a wild blind kid. If only there was a program of sorts that could have been there to give me that little extra, I might have been able to do something with my life. But in my days there were no such things. A few programs for the handicapped were just making their way into the school system, and I did finally get some help in the 8th grade. This was when I discovered that I did have a brain but without personal guidance at home and without personal counseling, my first experience with education was a near waste of time.  The frustration within my youthful heart grew into anger and these pent up feelings manifested themselves, always being a kid having to live on the edge of survival of the fittest. I turned to everything physical and made toughness my companion, and became rather a good fighter, a defender of my place in life and one who defended the little people who couldn't stand up for themselves.  And one that soon developed a reputation for achievement in the field of early gang leadership. This era of life, left me with broken teeth, scars and broken bones and encounters with the police, only contributing to my already negative existence. 
However, my only true satisfaction with life came with the working of my hands in the building or creation of things. Through my early years I discovered that I had a very powerful creative force working within me but again, had no way of putting it into a useful direction, thus more time was wasted. However, the little contact that I did have with art in school and in making things for people, like extraordinary coffee tables, clay things, sculpturing, colorful paintings, along with wood carvings, was one of the best things that ever happened to me. But being a tough guy, the mister Cool, well, he couldn’t be caught playing with clay nor painting pretty pictures, now could he? 
Along with all this growing up and being near sightless and without guidance or having a mentor to assist me in my directions, I accepted people’s ideas that a blind person could never make it as an artist. This was impossible and was told many a time, to make yourself useful and do not waste a good mind and youthful time in foolish pursuits, such as in art, and so I didn’t!
 Years of wasted time fell quickly behind. And in the changing of times, friends got married and went away, people went to war, and many of my Wild bunch died in acts of stupidity! And in battles with trying to figure out if life was even worth living I found myself expressing myself beyond the actions of violence with sculpturing and yes, even in painting! Somehow I found myself among those who thought my ventures into far out things, like driftwood collages, cement sculptures and odd pieces of iron works and unusual clay forms were considered to be of some interest.
I became associated with one friend, who was a real artist, attending a well known University in Los Angeles, and was creating specialty works for a well known Interior Decorator.  Now this friend Ray, needed someone to venture out and find unusual things to assist him in his creations, and so we went all over together.  In this adventure I discovered the original Hurst Castle dump in a canyon along a deserted beach! Oh, wow, if I only knew then what I know now?
 Interesting enough, this exposure did push me further into new areas of discovery and I actually realized that there were some people out there who liked my strange and different works. I did sell a few things, painted several large canvases and sold them to real estate offices. Some of these items are still floating around today and my only real regret is that I listened to the experts who told me that a Blind man cannot become an artist!  And I was stupid enough to accept these people’s opinions.
When I finally accepted the fact that life for me, especially in the employment and educational area, was going to limit my entire existence, there came a great time of despair and loneliness for me. This I recall as the Dreadful Season of Troubles for my days!

For this is when I sort of gave up on life, and managed to get myself into a whole lot of troubles. Beyond all this worry and woe, I knew my sight would one day be gone totally and decided to throw everything away and ventured forth on many long journeys, filling up my limited vision with everything possible. I wanted my memory full, filled with sights, colors, storms, stories, and everything that could imprint itself onto my mind. And sure enough, after several years of travel, and some very wild adventures, a few examples of these were, living in Hawaii for three years, sailing on a yacht into the South Pacific, being shipped wrecked, living in tree houses, establishing a coffee plantation in the middle of the Amazon jungle, visiting and living in some 40 countries, building and living in a stone hut on the Red Sea, then venturing across the vast areas of the middle East, living in GAO India along the coast , then wondering everywhere across the lands of ancient history, climbing and stumbling into the heart of the Himalayas, and  then nearly dying of Hepatitis, I decided to return home, but only long enough to get well. 
Finally I did settle down and got married, started a family and created a landscape business in place of art, eventually building a wood working shop.  Then in time finding my sight was near run out, once again began to allow that creative engine within myself to run once again.
 In time my sight grew dim, my ability to perceive colors soon faded and the only real thing I had was my imagination and a whole lot of memories.
 The worst thing of all this, was that I in my early stages of growth accepted people’s feelings and opinions that a blind man cannot become an artist. So in my youth, when the feeling of art was just beginning to root itself within me, I allowed people to quench and bury that root, and for many years I turned away from my true artistic ability.  I can only say that the feeling to express myself has never died within me, but over the years I kept turning my feelings back to art. Somehow those creative powers laid dormant inside me, patiently waiting for me to come to my senses. And over the years, for some strange reason, now, in my latter days, this engine of creativity has fired up and burst forth, and I cry out for enough time to possibly produce only a portion of all the creations that lay waiting within me. 
I will now dedicate myself, my remaining time and my efforts to produce things of beauty, and tell my stories and adventures with paint, wood, and in every other media that I can find to make it happen!   
I will also endeavor to encourage, and urge, all young people, to never let others kill their dreams!  
Yes, there are certainly wise and good people, who will help in guiding you, and I encourage youth to seek these wise hearts out but never let your inner dreams die, or be put to death by limited opinions, or the destroyers of your gifts, No Matter What They Might Be! 
So now this elder soul, Michael M. Michaelson MMM will begin to make up for lost time and hopefully I will be able to retrieve my dreams out of the fires of time.
Thank You! 
MMM
From Out Of Sight Creations
Michael Thanks You,
Visit the Blind Mans Gallery of Extraordinary Works
at: www.outofsightcreations.net
or at: www.mmmblindartist.com