What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger

I am a survivor of Childhood Sexual Abuse, which deeply impacted my sensibility and sense of self worth. One positive  that came out of it was it made me more sensitive to the suffering of others. Believe me, empathy is not easy for survivors of CSA. My healing journey has made me more acutely appreciative of our ability as humans to transcend the paradigms and stories that tend to limit what is possible. I believe we all have it within us to overcome seemingly impossible obstacles. As a result of this empathy I believe my portrait paintings have a certain depth that distinguished me from other artists doing portraits. The viewer comes away with a sense of the subject, what they may be thinking and feeling. This is the result of a deep humility that is somehow baked into my process, a humility born out of deep humiliation and abject failure. Somehow, through the process of healing, I don’t let my ego get in the way of a person’s truest, best self emerging as I work. I think my job as an artist is to basically get out of the way and let my subject emerge.

 

Abandoned by my mom when I was very young, I was groomed and sexually assaulted by my sister’s boyfriend, a doctor at Detroit’s children’s hospital, who “infiltrated” my family when I was 14. Ignored by parents and church leaders, with my childhood derailed, my self-esteem in shambles, I developed profound feelings of abandonment, guilt and worthlessness. My response was to become an overachiever in the arts to prove my worth and win some much needed affirmation, mostly from women. I threw myself into becoming a musician as numerous failed relationships with women came and went. I became a serial monogomist. Recovery from CSA is a lifelong process; I know I hurt many people along the way. One life goal is to have made amends where ever I’ve been able. And through out my life, just when I think I’m ‘healed’ I’m still triggered back into chaos on occasion. The truth is, one can never completely “get over it.”

 

For instance, there came a point in my music career, just as I was graduating from music school, where I simply could not go on, even though I had achieved a high professional level as a musician. The reason at the time was that my “old school” Clarinet teacher, quite inadvertently, had been triggering my abuse while pushing me to improve. I owe him an apology, posthumously, sadly. I crashed and burned my music career. But there were higher forces at work; I think subconsciously, I really didn’t want to spend the rest of my life with a clarinet stuck in my mouth, as much as I loved making music, which was my first love. I am still composing and have returned to playing occasionally.

 

The Big Apple

There were other obstacles along the way, of course. For instance, the day my father told me Detroit “wasn’t big enough for the both of us.” It was his not-so-little push that prompted me to seek my fortunes in New York City and beyond, where I faced more abject failures as an actor, along with some significant successes. But in a similar way as with music, I realized putting my soul on the line for mostly hostile strangers was not what I enjoyed. I simply was not wired to deal with rejection. After graduating from Circle in the Square Professional Acting training, my hunt for an agent turned up fruitless. The final nail in the “Big Apple” coffin came when the NRCA fired me, after I broke off a wedding engagement with one of its founders, even though I had won us several award winning grants, including from the NEA.

 

In a way, my eventual success was forged out of a series of life failures, all brought about because of the foundational trust and self-esteem issues, resulting from the CSA. I still love music and acting but now they inspire me, taking a back seat to my painting career.  Somewhere along the way, I learned you can only fail when you stops trying. As part of my healing process, I wrote a coming-of-age book about what led to the abuse, projecting a fictional future onto my story, asking myself “what if I confronted the perpetrator? What would I do to him?” The book that emerged from this process is called, The Fishfly.

 

Collaborations Keep me Sane

It took me a long time to be able to collaborate with other artists and to have long term relationships. Opening the Maniscalco Gallery was an attempt to continue my do-it-all-myself life course. Fortunately, it led instead to wonderful collaborations between myself and other artists and community members. It also led to my stint as host of Artbeat on Detroit Public TV.  It was no longer a failure when these ventures came to their natural ending. As my healing journey has progressed, I have become more intentional as chapters in my life flow from beginning to end, one door opening as another closes. I’m happy to report my second marriage looks like its going to stick. My kids are raised and for the most part happy and healthy. Life is very good.

 

Gratefulness is the New Dissatisfaction

Today, I am mostly grateful to God for the wonderful life I have lived. I am an active participant in the Charleston and Summerville artist community, and I do coaching and workshops all over the country. I have joined an online coaching program which will soon be available for individuals and small groups internationally, via Zoom. I create portraits throughout North America and consider the portrait process an intimate, fulfilling collaboration between myself and my sitter. I also create other paintings from mine and other people’s travel photos. I am available as a quick sketch artist at special events like weddings and corporate gatherings. I do public speaking and demonstrations about my career and the creative process, focused on our selves as the ultimate work of art we are put on Earth to create. And finally, I am always looking for multimedia collaborations with film makers, directors, other performance art creatives and like minded artists.