The evening sunsets are back--perfectly framed in our art room windows; the baby birds are chirping outside the office; on Tuesday evening, a little boy--Huck-Finn-like--caught the first tiny green frog in our backyard. All signs, of course, that summer is on the way.

Morning Art Classes
As always, we'll expand our art class schedule for the summer months. In addition to our year-round classes in the late afternoon and evenings, we'll add morning classes too.

Art, Music & Movement for 3-5-year-olds is offered Monday-Friday, 10-noon, June 4-August 17. Pre-schoolers are welcome to attend one or two days a week.

Concurrent with AMM are our summer morning Fine Arts classes, for ages 5-7 and 8-12. These classes will run Monday-Friday, 10-11:30 a.m., June 4-August 17. Students can enroll one day a week and can start whenever their schedule allows--we extended the dates to coincide with the varying school district calendars.

One-Day Workshops
In addition to these morning classes, we  offer a slew of summer workshops. Some highlights of Mad Mondays (1-3 p.m., June 11-August 6) include: "Lone Rider," a chalk pastel; Cartooning with Mr. Greg; "Neon Buzz;" and several sculptures ("The Swimmer," "Knight in Shining Armor," and "The Pitcher").

Also on summer Mondays are our ever-popular Canvas Painting Workshops (4-6 p.m.). Directly following Mad Mondays, the art in both workshops will revolve around a given theme, so many students choose to stay for the afternoon. For instance, on June 18, Mad Monday will sculpt "The Swimmer," and the canvas painting will be "The Pool." Or on July 9, Mad Monday will sculpt a "Knight in Shining Armor," and the canvas will be "Medieval Times."

Similarly, at the end of the week, we hold Fun Fridays (1-3 p.m., June 22-August 10). This year's workshops include "Angry Birds," "Art Nouveau," a Fourth of July t-shirt, designing your own CD cover, and glass painting.

Three Day Workshops
We're also offering Three-Day Workshops (Tuesday-Thursday, 1-3 p.m., June 12-14 through August 7-9), where art will be themed and include both 2-D (drawings or paintings) and 3-D (sculpture). Here's the exciting list: Superheroes--The Avengers; Hunger Games; Pixar's "Brave;" Snow White; Star Wars 3-D; Animals (in cooperation with Folsom Zoo); and Travel the World.

Summer Olympic Week, July 23-27
The week preceding the Opening Ceremonies in London (slated for Friday, July 27), we'll immerse ourselves in Summer Olympics 2012. Our Mad Monday workshop will sculpt "Big Ben;" the Canvas Painting Workshop subject matter is "The London Eye & the Thames," the Three Day Workshop will create a variety of 2- and 3- D Olympic art, and Fun Friday students will complete an amazing version of "London's Times Square: Picadilly Circus at Night."

New Courses This Year
We're also excited to announce two new courses opening this summer--and beyond. The first is an Advanced Sculpture class, for ages 13-adult, taught by one of our best resident sculptors, Cassie Martin. Cassie will help students experiment with a variety of media, and develop their own artistic style-- on Tuesdays, 6-7:30 p.m.

The second is a Summer Film-Making Class, taught by Justin Buettner, a local film-maker and long-time art center parent. This 12-week course will guide budding film-makers through all aspects of the process: how to use the latest technology, and also how to write and pitch a screenplay, develop a storyboard, hire and direct actors, edit the film and find an audience. The class runs Thursdays, 6-7:30 p.m., June 7-August 30.

Year-Round Afternoon, Evening and Saturday classes
Perfect if you have swim practice, tennis lessons or other activities during the early part of the day, our year-round classes of course run through the summer. Existing students can remain in these classes; summer students can add them. These include Fine Arts, for ages 5-7 and 8-12, on Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays, 4-5:30 p.m., and Saturdays 10-11:30 a.m.; Cartooning with Mr. Greg, ages 9-teen, Tuesdays 5-6 p.m.; Drawing, ages 9-teen, Tuesdays 6-7:30 p.m.; and Teen Fine Arts, Thursdays 6-7:30 p.m.

We hope there is something for everyone this summer--feel free to give us a call (791-6407) or e-mail us (ccac@surewest.net) to get on the roll sheets for your summer favorites. You can pay the first day of class with credit or debit cards, checks or cash. And of course the sunsets, baby birds and tiny green frogs are on the house.

It's December at the Art Center--and all our busy elves (teachers and students) are happily making snowmen, gingerbread men, polar bears, Christmas trees and winter scenes (artistic renditions of course).  And on any given day, throughout the afternoon, the sounds of "Silent Night," "Oh, Christmas Tree" and "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" are drifting from each music room.

Our annual Art Center Christmas tree is also up in the waiting room--slowly being decorated with hand-made ornaments from our students. And making this year even more special: Phase II of our painting project is now complete. Rooms 1 and 2 (the two front art rooms) are now soothing and beautiful new colors. A special thanks (and a sterling recommendation) goes to our customer and local artisan: Mike DeRungs of DeRungs Design. In addition to his work here, he is the artist behind the Beach Hut Deli interiors--tables, chairs and counters--and he does all sorts of custom work, for either commercial or residential use (Derungsdesign.com).

Also special for the holidays: [music teachers and married couple] Jen Cordero's and Derek Martinez' holiday CD: "The Good List." It's available in our waiting room and can be purchased for $5. What a fun holiday gift--especially if these are your children's music teachers!

There are several holiday workshops coming along as well: Friday, December 16, our canvas painting workshop, "Winter," 4-6 p.m., $45, ages 5-12+; and Friday, December 23, Fun Friday, "Edible Art" (gingerbread house-making), $38, ages 5-12+. 

Finally, we are offering drop-in classes this month and in January--kids can come to any of our regularly scheduled classes for $25. Each class will make a winter/holiday-related project--while you shop, wrap or take a nap.

And don't forget--these art masterpieces make wonderful holiday gifts. Speaking of which, Art Center holiday gift certificates are also available in any denomination. You (or Nana) can even phone us with a credit or debit card and have the gift certificate shipped anywhere in the U.S.

Hope your house is as busy and happy as ours!

It's mid-July and surprisingly balmy--80s and breezy, compared to 110 and people saying to each other, "Why is it we live here, again?!?!?"

Nature of course continues to roll on our farm. Another killdeer couple made a nest which they fiercely (and goofily) guarded for weeks.
 It was just at the edge of our driveway, and we would like to profusely apologize--on behalf of these silly birds--to the young guitar student who walked up this path unknowing, and had a crazed mama bird fly right at his face. He dropped not only his instrument and music, but a flip-flop flew off in his mad rush to return to the safety of his mother's parked SUV. Drama aside, the eggs (pictured here
 ,
along with the maniacal parent bird ) 
 finally hatched: here are the babies:

Adorable, but still prone to wandering into the road. We are all mystified at some level as to how this species survives?

The Center is busy too, filled almost to capacity in our morning fine arts classes, our 1- and 3-day workshops, and our afternoon year-round program. We are happy to see those smiling, sun-kissed students, in their summer blue art shirts, coming up our walk--literally morning, noon and night. And going back out, proudly teetering robot sculptures, musical instruments done in chalk pastels, acrylic paintings of beach scenes. Music students are here in droves too, regular as a train schedule, every 30 minutes--music books, guitar or flute cases, drum sticks in hand.

We've also had the pleasure of hosting some specialized workshops, bringing in highly interesting and detail-oriented sub-cultures of modern childhood. For instance, Miss Loralyn learned from her Star Wars: The Clone Wars experts that Yoda's light sabre is NOT blue, despite her "aesthetic" take on the project. ("But HE'S green, so I thought a blue light sabre would look better artistically," she tried to explain, to no avail. Her 8-10-year-old crowd was nothing if not stern. "Nope.") 

And most recently, the Harry Potter wizarding fans were here. With only days--and then hours--to go until the final movie opened, Harry Potter fever was in the air. One 6-year-old student, for instance, bought a Harry Potter wand the weekend before--at an airport yet--and reportedly sleeps with it.  In addition to the gorgeous art , the kids also had the opportunity, or uh, the dare of eating Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans. Not surprisingly, we had a large bowl of these ear-wax- and vomit- and dirt- flavored jelly beans left over, which gave our staff something to do. Greg and my son Nash, then later Greg and his cartooning class, did a 1-2-3-go! taste, sending several people straight to the garbage can. The teen advanced fine art class also got wild and sampled the terrible bowl, to much girlish hilarity. And to everyone's amazement, one of Miss Jen's music students happily gobbled up several handfuls, without a flinch. Did it hit him later in the car? No one is sure.

We have four weeks left of our summer program--check the website for the remaining fun workshops; or let us know if you don't receive our mass e-mails and we'll add you to the customer base; we're also on Facebook and Twitter. And we have occasional spots here and there in the morning fine arts classes. You can also always enroll--for the rest of the summer or beyond--in our afternoon year-round classes. You're guaranteed a blue summer art shirt and--of course--those infamous summer treats at the break. Not, thankfully, the horrible Harry Potter beans, but a friendly Otter Pop.
  ("Otter Pop" by Greg Bodie, resident cartoonist)

Since becoming a co-owner here, I scour the New York Times business section every Sunday. Like, cover to cover. In the hopes, of course, it will make me a brilliant business woman. There's always a column on page two ("Corner Office"), where a successful management-type is interviewed, and I read this religiously, looking for advice.

A couple of weeks ago, a snappy and smart woman was the subject of the piece. At some point, she said, her company's staff began making comments about how they were "one big happy family." And someone eventually said this in a meeting, where she took issue with it. Said in no uncertain terms: You know what, we're NOT a family. Because in a family, you have to put up with Uncle Joe, no matter how weird he is. But here, if you're not pulling your weight, I'm going to fire you. She didn't say what the staff's reaction was, but they apparently now use the phrase "team." And something tells me they may have a new--and possibly unprintable--phrase for her.

It made me think, however, about the people at the Art Center, and the relationships here. And I realized we are possibly in a unique position, as corporations go.

For instance, we are physically working in what was once a family home--the farmhouse that anchored the Joe Rodgers' spread, one of only a handful of big ranches that made up original Granite Bay. Descendants of Mr. and Mrs. Rodgers have come back to see the Center, and not only are they pleased with the clay and paint and hordes of smiling kids, they tell us it's not so different than it ever was. The farm was the gathering place for the Rodgers' family, where everyone came for holidays and summer vacations. There are photos of happy children playing in the yard near the house, posing on the porch, gathered around a Christmas tree (a tradition we resurrected this past year, strung with decorations made by our students). Except for the clothes and the sepia tones of these old pictures, it could almost be today.

Call us superstitious--or crazy artists--but many of us feel that spirit is what gives this place its magic: the generations of happy people who enjoyed themselves here.

Then of course, there are the family trees connecting our staff to one another--as in, many of us are actually related. Brenda Bodie ("Ms. B"), who helped found the Center and still runs the adult course, is [current co-owner] Greg's mother. Art teachers Loralyn and Deanna Owen are sisters. My children, long-time students, also work here now--15-year-old Hadley Rood teaches and assists; 11-year-old Nash is the Lawn Boy and Handyman-in-Training. Similarly, music teacher Astrid Boehm's 8-year-old son, Lukas, is almost always in tow--a staff favorite, he takes art classes twice a week while she meets with her piano and flute students, then beguiles her into dinner at In-and-Out Burger. (I defy anyone to say no to his handsome, dark-eyed pleading.) 

Last but not least: our married couple, music teachers Jen Cordero and Derek Martinez. Both USC graduates, they met and wed in Southern California, formed a trio (Zoo Human Project), which they toured nationally with, then eventually returned to Derek's hometown (Roseville). And--fortunately for us--stumbled upon the Art Center, first her, then him. Here five days a week, they quickly became a wildly popular pair--with customers and staff.   

In fact, he'd only been here a few months when they discovered the heart problem. Picked up in a routine physical as a "murmur," it initially didn't seem like a big deal, but they were advised to do further testing. And what they found wasn't good: same genetic defect, in fact, that killed John Ritter, the actor, with no warning. At some level, a miracle that it was found, but it meant open-heart surgery to correct it. They scheduled it for late May, in the hopes many of his students were taking a break for the summer anyway, or could move into earlier time slots with other teachers while school was out. But there were scary moments--like the day in April when he had chest pains and she rushed him to the ER. We all waited and hoped, texting around anxious--then finally relieved--posts.

Same thing in the days leading up to his surgery. We knew the anticipation levels--for three long months--had been hard on them, too hard, but the actual event seemed agonizing too.

On the Thursday morning he was wheeled into the OR, people taught classes, I attended my son's 5th grade graduation, but part of each of us went missing from these mundane activities: waiting for news, wishing there was more we could do. A text came over: the valve replacement was finished, but they couldn't stop "excessive" bleeding. We busied ourselves and tried not to worry.

Finally, a happy post: he was done, it was a success. We all breathed for what seemed like the first time that day. But there was more trouble--his recuperation was slow, hampered by side effects to the medications. For days, I read "health reports" to the staff, texted people who weren't here when they came in. Responses were nearly instantaneous: tell her we're thinking of them; we're holding them in our thoughts. One day, I sat and called all of her students--several of whom had been his--to push them off another week; she couldn't return as planned. With no exception, everyone I spoke to said they didn't care about the missed lessons; they just wanted him to be well, them to be okay. I was sitting in her back music room--the farmer's breakfast nook--when I called; the energy of the wishes--and of this pair--seemed alive in there.

Then, almost unexpectedly, Derek pushed to be released from the hospital. He's home now--Jen by his side, as always. Greg has seen them, has taken Derek for an early evening walk, stayed with him while Jen grocery-shopped. He reports Derek is sore and slow-moving, but otherwise good; Jen is just "immensely relieved." He's also taken them piles of cards and comic books and "man-flowers" from the staff. Small things of course, but with a deeper meaning: an outpouring, really, of all this event has raised in us.

Are we just a team? Just a corporation? I'd guess not. And probably the New York Times isn't going to interview me any time soon. But maybe being a brilliant business woman isn't all it's cracked up to be.

You might say I'm preaching to the choir. Because if you're reading this, and/or your children attend our Center, you probably already believe art and music are important. You might also say I'm a salesman--and just serving up a pitch.

But in fact, there is growing concern that, as a nation, our kids are missing out. And not just on the "fun" experience of dabbling with a paint brush, picking out the Star Wars' theme on the living room piano. Last year, for example, Newsweek magazine published a story called The Creativity Crisis: for the first time ever, creativity scores in America are declining. And its our youngest children--kindergarten through 6th grade--"for whom the decline is 'most serious.'"

What this means, experts suggest, is a deeper crisis than too few artists and musicians in, say, the year 2020. Longitudinal research studies show kids who score the highest on a creativity index grow up to be "entrepreneurs, inventors, college presidents, authors, doctors, diplomats and software developers." And their high level of success in these fields is directly attributable to certain characteristics unique to a creative personality: being inventive, resourceful, imaginative, and willing to consider more than one answer to a problem.

But while our kids are falling behind in creativity, other countries are going out of their way to teach it. For example, 2009 was designated the European Year of Creativity and Innovation by the European Union. The EU held conferences on the neuroscience of creativity; problem-based learning programs were established; teacher training was funded. Similarly, in China, education experts are mystified at America's current emphasis on rote-memorization and national testing, what they consider their
 "old model."

All of which has gained attention from American policy-makers. Earlier this month, a landmark education study was released called Re-Investing in Arts Education: Winning America's Future. It makes a compelling argument that visual arts improve reading readiness; learning to read music and play an instrument improve math skills. It also suggests students who are exposed to art and music do better on standardized tests; drop-out rates are lower in schools where students have art and music education; and offering an art-rich environment to underprivileged kids may be the biggest factor in closing the "achievement gap." But perhaps its most sobering conclusion: if we don't foster creativity in our kids, the U.S. will no longer be able to compete on a global playing field.

And really, the problems facing our increasingly interconnected modern world seem to demand out-of-the-box thinking: the environment, the economy, public health, terrorism, war and peace. Not to mention innovation and research development--in the fields of technology, entertainment, medicine, science--are what America has long done better than anyone else.

In no way am I suggesting, by the way, that our tiny green-and-white farmhouse--in a small Northern California town--will necessarily produce people who can solve these issues. But there are parents who stop by our office every day to tell us their children's experience here has been beneficial--even transformational.
 
For instance, one mother described how her GATE daughter struggled at school; every night was a fight over homework; a tutor increased the bad attitude. "Since she started this art class, and guitar lessons, it's a completely different story," she said. "I think she's artistic and just had to have an outlet."  Another mom, whose son is on the autism spectrum, told us his fine arts class has been critical in raising his self-esteem; it's also reminiscent of her own upbringing in a big city. "Every Saturday morning, my mother would take my sister and I downtown--and my sister would go to an art class held in an art museum, and I'd go around the corner to dance class." The richness of this experience stayed with her, and she feels it's vital her son have a similar Saturday morning. We also spoke to a father, who told us his son has had a "hard year"--social problems, family problems, issues at school--and his monthly art field trips to the Center have "changed him--he seems to look at things differently now." Or there was the mom, a longtime customer, who said her daughter is in a highly-academic school--lots of homework, lots of stress, a less-than-ideal classroom teacher. As a result, she's lost confidence, is frequently anxious and tearful. They dropped all activities, but recently returned just to art class. Patting her daughter's head as she bounded out, smiling, with a finished project, the mother said,
 "She needs this."

What I didn't say, but could have, to each of these parents: This is why art and music matter.