Young Leaving the Nest Doesn't Mean the End The Mother 'Hood By Kriss K. Jenny-Case About a decade ago, my news editor gave me an assignment to cover a poetry reading at an art gallery in Westerville. While I'm not an avid fan of poetry, the idea of checking out an art gallery did seem like fun. Adding a little spice to the assignment was the fact that the gallery was located at the edge of the Otterbein College campus, housed in a portion of a business center where patrons could make copies, purchase pens and highlighters, and ship packages. On top of that, the poetry was being read by its author - a woman who was making a stop in the temperance city as part of a cross-country motorcycle tour to raise awareness of womenąs rights. Further details of the story have faded away over time, but what I remember most clearly about the assignment was that it was the day I met my friend, Renee Kropat. I've been fortunate enough in my lifetime as a journalist to meet many types of people who have taught me a lot ­ mainly about their views on the world and what they find interesting in their daily walkabouts through life. And most of the time, I have been able to take away at least some new bit of knowledge from each interview that has helped me further on down the line. But the interview with Renee was different from the minute I walked into her shop. We were instant friends, and the motorcycling poet's work nearly took a backseat to what I found most interesting. Hanging on the walls behind the shelves of copy paper and rows of writing instruments, were these fantastic splashes of color mixed together to create art that was whimsical and thoughtful at the same time. Over here was a portrait of what the artist thought Van Gogh's cat must have looked like, and over there was a watercolor of a moss-covered bridge stretching over a woodland stream. In the months that followed, I would stop by the art gallery in the business center just to visit Renee and see what type of artwork she had on display. Then, one day she called and said she was closing the business center to open an art gallery on the second floor of an Uptown Westerville location a few blocks away. Would I like to come and do another story, she asked. Little did I know then that one phone call would one day be a life preserver ring thrown to me in a storm-tossed ocean. Of course, I did the interview and was intrigued by the idea that Renee also would be offering art lessons two evenings a week at her new location. It didn't take me long to sign up, and soon I was looking forward to my weekly sessions at Gallery 202. As a fulltime mom at the time, it was great getting out of the house at least one night a week to hang out with other big people who shared my interest in art. We drank a lot of coffee, talked about color theory, and slowly but surely, I began to see my artistic talents ­ outside of writing ­ start to bloom. And then the bottom fell out. My husband and I were divorcing, and there were many weeks where I went to the gallery just to be around people who were not angry at me. Renee held me close in her friendship and provided me a safe harbor until the storm passed. But there were changes going on in Renee's life, too. Her elder son had moved away and started college, and her younger son was soon to be entering high school. Realizing that she wanted to enjoy these last few years with her young family before they flew the nest, Renee decided to close her gallery. The funny thing was that neither I, nor any of her other vast array of friends, would let her totally give up the business of art. Renee organized a group of women to get together and work on several art circle projects. She held regular swap meets at her home, where her artsy friends could get together and trade some of their cast-offs. She kept art alive in the community, organizing an annual "Chair is Art" show and other thematic shows, inviting interested artists to participate ­ no matter what their skill level. Renee even expanded her own artistic talents as she delved more into recycled art projects. It became a source of amusement to stop by her house to see her latest find ­ an old school locker that she turned on its side and made into a bench (which I later bought); a metal frame from a baby crib that she hung on the wall and turned into a bulletin board for her home office (which I'm thinking of copying for my own office); old doors thrown away that she retrieved from the curbside trash and painted to make into colorful room dividers. In short, Renee never stopped being an artist, friend, mentor, and teacher ­ despite the fact that she didnąt officially have a gallery. And now, with her younger son graduating from high school next month, Renee has re-opened Gallery 202 ­ less than a block away from where I first took my art lessons with her. Her first show in this new second-floor space, appropriately enough, is the 2005 Chair is Art. The Westerville Arts League has joined her opening with a watercolor show, and a non-profit group interested in preserving the Westerville landmark Japanese Teahouse and Shrine also has a display there. Once again, Renee is showing me the way. When it comes my turn, I will look to her as my source of inspiration that life does not end when the fledglings fly the nest, but rather the time when the mama bird can stretch and spread her wings to enjoy a new dawn. Please Note: Gallery 202 is located at 38 N. State St., above Amish Originals Furniture store in Uptown Westerville. For more information about gallery hours, visit artswesterville.com or call (614) 882-7709. For more information about the work being done toward the restoration of the landmark Westerville Teahouse and Shrine, visit the westervilleteahouse-shrine.org website. Copyright 2005 by Kriss K. Jenny-Case