​Emily Benatar

Honoring Emily with Art 2025: Connection

From Lisa:

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The story behind this year’s project starts on a weekend trip that Maya and some friends took to the Oregon coast. At a small shop on their way back to Portland, they came across a book with step-by-step instructions for making watercolor paintings of flowers. Maya thought, “This is the kind of book Emily would make.” 

Emily used to make “how to” booklets for things like make-up and beading, and when Maya was little Emily had made her a booklet called “Maya’s Cool Collection of Quick & Easy Crafts” with ideas and instructions for things that Maya could do instead of watching TV if she were ever bored. Maya remembers Emily being very intent on sharing her love of art and making it approachable and accessible for people who aren’t naturally good artists. And she knew it was really helpful for people to have a starting point.

Maya bought the book and later, back at her house in Portland, was looking through it more carefully. In the first few pages she saw a note from the author: “There is something wonderful that happens when you sit down to paint...” In the note the author proceeded to say that the hardest part about doing art can be the blank page, knowing how to start. Her book made it easy to start and easy to create something beautiful. She ended the note signing, “x,o Emily”  and Maya did a double take. The author of these books that were so similar to things Emily had made was named Emily. And her signature even looked like Emily's.  

What do we do when we can no longer be with someone we love so much? How can we keep our connection with that person? We search for ways, and we do things like have events in their honor, make foods they liked, do art, watch their favorite movies, knit to feel closer to them if they liked to knit, create space in our lives to quiet our minds so that we can feel their presence, in places like a forest or the beach or a meditation retreat. And then sometimes things just happen that bring them to us. 

The book felt like a connection to Emily. Maya told me about the book, and she suggested that maybe the next Honoring Emily art project could involve instruction booklets, helping guide people through creating a watercolor painting.  

Each year, I had always had a moment of inspiration when I knew what the theme should be for the Honoring Emily project. But I liked Maya’s idea, and doing a project that Maya or Isabel thought of felt a bit like passing the torch to my kids, and that felt good. Maya felt connected to Emily when she saw the watercolor book. And so I thought: the theme that feels right is Connection. 

Time went by. I started planning the event with people from the Art Center, explaining the theme – Connection – and our ideas for the art project. Then in October Maya and I left for a trip to Japan. 

The day before the last day of our trip, I woke up thinking ahead to the Honoring Emily event. I felt a little uneasy that I had never had that moment of knowing – knowing what the focus or theme of the event should be – like in past years, but I put the feeling aside and got ready for a full day. That morning, we visited a local tea house for a tea ceremony hosted by an artist who was living in a home that had been his grandfather's. We were served tea by a tea master, a woman trained over many years. Prior to arriving, our Japanese guide had explained to us that the tea master would incorporate a theme into the experience, and that there would be clues to the theme throughout the ceremony. At the end we would be asked if we could figure out the theme, based on the clues. She gave an example: we might see pictures on the walls with animals, or the tea master might mention animals, and the theme would be animals. I was intrigued. 

We entered the tea house and observed the many rituals – washing hands, bowing, sitting on folded legs, receiving a sweet before the tea, and accepting the tea bowl with both hands. We were served a sweet first, as was customary, to provide contrast to the bitter matcha tea, and this sweet (mochi) was shaped like a baby boar. I noticed a small statue of a monkey in an alcove of the room. There was a simple painting on the wall, with a bird on a branch. All possible clues, I thought.

Focused on my tea (and admittedly a bit on a lack of circulation to my feet), I had forgotten about guessing the theme. At the end of the ceremony, we were asked what we thought the theme was. I said “Animals?” The tea master shook her head — no, that wasn’t correct. Right, I thought, too simple. But what else could it be? Maya later told me she had no idea – there didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to things that might be clues. I offered up more guesses: Plants? Nature? The Elements? (There had been water and fire in a painting.) I was grasping at straws. Then all of a sudden, I saw the bowls sitting on the tatami mat and re-heard the stories in my mind that the host had told us about his grandfather receiving them as gifts, and in that moment I knew the theme. I said: Connection. Our guide, host and tea master smiled and nodded, Yes. The theme was connections between people. Each of the items in the room had been given to our host’s grandfather or our host by someone special, a friend or family member. 

It’s difficult to describe how I felt in that moment without diminishing it. I will say that there have been a handful of times when I’ve felt like I’m being filled with knowing something, and this was one of those times.

As we were leaving the tea house, I asked how the tea master comes up with the theme for a tea ceremony. The tea master replied and our guide translated:  “She says, ‘We think about our guests.’ ” 

There is a moment when there is no time, everything is still, and there is all. That’s Connection.