Chi Stewart
Chi Chi was born in 1951 in Salem, New Jersey and grew up in the country surrounding this town that was chosen by a federal government computer in the late 1960’s as the “Typical Small Town, USA.” From early on she would hide in secret places writing stories, talking to animals and trees, enjoying the relative safety of leaving home in the morning, usually barefoot, returning for lunch, and then going back out to explore the woods, farms, and fields until dinnertime. Her natural sense of curiosity was developing along with these adventures. Encouraged by her parents to choose a career that would benefit others and provide a steady source of income, she graduated in 1973 with a bachelor of science degree in nursing from St. Xavier College in Chicago, Ill. After a pastoral, rural upbringing, going to school in the “big city” was quite an adventure and no small adjustment. She practiced nursing for 14 years in various venues: hospitals, nursing homes, and outpatient clinics in Chicago, Spokane, Portland, Oregon, and Saudi Arabia.
Attempting to blend her natural creativity and wild-child optimism within the fields of academia and medicine resulted in an on-going desire to change and improve things. Finding the hierarchy a huge challenge, she applied her creativity to inventing programs inside and outside of normal work areas: teaching stress management for air traffic controllers; developing a team approach for diabetic care; teaching and sharing of new ideas for pain management; and public speaking about the then-new field of psycho-neuro-immunology. Her creativity further moved into nurturing personal relationships, drawing, creating beauty in the garden and home, and raising children. Her desire to explore had already been hidden under the more adult term of travel(see resume).
After the last of her five children entered kindergarten, a very positive mid-life crisis arrived. While she was washing the dinner dishes one evening, hands immersed in hot soapy water, and wondering as usual what life was really about, a “still small voice” spoke. “You are an artist,” it said. And suddenly, as in Field of Dreams, the cosmic tumblers clicked into place. Two years later, she was exhibiting her artwork in public venues.
Personal Point of View
“Nursing and caring for family prepared me in visceral and unexpected ways for the demands of working as an artist: the long hours of being on one’s feet, a sensitivity to form and color change of humans as they move from illness to wellness, a commitment to steer circumstances toward improvement, and finally, the experience of letting go when it was time to let go. Writing up programs, plans and menus evolved into writing poetry. Growing up in rural America in the 1950’s created a love of the outdoors and natural landscape in ways I never could have predicted. And despite all the years of “city livin” that I have gotten pleasure from, the “big city” still remains a mystery to me.
I have been called a “dedicated and thoughtful Renaissance woman” by my fellow artists, and an “artistic leader who is willing to ask the large questions.” My paintings invite the viewer to examine more deeply the layered significance of everyday appearances, and always to enjoy the light.”
Attempting to blend her natural creativity and wild-child optimism within the fields of academia and medicine resulted in an on-going desire to change and improve things. Finding the hierarchy a huge challenge, she applied her creativity to inventing programs inside and outside of normal work areas: teaching stress management for air traffic controllers; developing a team approach for diabetic care; teaching and sharing of new ideas for pain management; and public speaking about the then-new field of psycho-neuro-immunology. Her creativity further moved into nurturing personal relationships, drawing, creating beauty in the garden and home, and raising children. Her desire to explore had already been hidden under the more adult term of travel(see resume).
After the last of her five children entered kindergarten, a very positive mid-life crisis arrived. While she was washing the dinner dishes one evening, hands immersed in hot soapy water, and wondering as usual what life was really about, a “still small voice” spoke. “You are an artist,” it said. And suddenly, as in Field of Dreams, the cosmic tumblers clicked into place. Two years later, she was exhibiting her artwork in public venues.
Personal Point of View
“Nursing and caring for family prepared me in visceral and unexpected ways for the demands of working as an artist: the long hours of being on one’s feet, a sensitivity to form and color change of humans as they move from illness to wellness, a commitment to steer circumstances toward improvement, and finally, the experience of letting go when it was time to let go. Writing up programs, plans and menus evolved into writing poetry. Growing up in rural America in the 1950’s created a love of the outdoors and natural landscape in ways I never could have predicted. And despite all the years of “city livin” that I have gotten pleasure from, the “big city” still remains a mystery to me.
I have been called a “dedicated and thoughtful Renaissance woman” by my fellow artists, and an “artistic leader who is willing to ask the large questions.” My paintings invite the viewer to examine more deeply the layered significance of everyday appearances, and always to enjoy the light.”