Creative In Residence, etc

Let’s pick up where we left off, shall we? If you’re just hopping on, you’ll find the start of the story HERE in my last entry.

October 2024 and the installation empty had a home at last. And OH! The space worked so well.

The main entry for Zapara School of Business is a vaulting rotunda with a sweeping stairway and massive windows that reveal the play of light as the sun sweeps across the sky each day. 

What began as a three-month stay turned into six months, a guest speaker spot for student colloquium, some surprising conversations, and the creation of a position Just. For. Me.

Hello. My name is Rebecca Waring-Crane and I am the (first ever) Creative In Residence at the Zapara School of Business. 

!!!!!!!

You can see a short video about my current work HERE.

So, funny thing: While I have steadily been living into my identity as a working artist, I have done not one single thing (not ONE!) to create, suggest, control, finagle, or otherwise accomplish much of what has unfolded for me since October 2024.

If I were a praying person in the traditional sense—and I have been an intercessory prayer warrior but had to leave direction of the divine to more certain souls—but if I were, there is no way I could have imagined and articulated the details, experiences, and people who have come along to co-create the expansive installation that is Article 24.

My job description

Below is the preamble. And I didn’t write or suggest any of it. Yay!

“The Zapara School of Business at La Sierra University has established a role for a visionary and dynamic individual to serve as its Creative-in-Residence. This unique role integrates artistry, mentorship, and innovation, focusing on enhancing creativity and ideation across projects that positively impact the University and its broader community, and creative works to inspire and catalyze action in society. The Creator-in-Residence will lead initiatives to inspire and support emerging talent, collaborate … to advance early-stage projects, and serve as a creative resource within the University.”

All of this resonates and feels completely do-able for me. No hustle. No contortion. I show up as myself: curious, open, present.

The conversations

I’ve met school case workers, middle school, high school and college students, retirees, venture capitalists, and a data scientist who told me that his encounter with empty gave him his first visceral experience with numbers. 

With Article 24, the name itself started conversation. The title is taken from the United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child. Stated simply, this article says that every child has the right to clean water, healthy food, and a safe environment.

Child-friendly Bill of Rights Poster

And there was a lot of shock. Shock that we must name these fundamentals as rights. Shock at the magnitude of food insecurity among CHILDREN. 16,553: only counting elementary children in the city (not county) of Riverside, California.

The Article 24 team

I was supported and companioned by capable people who, once again, I couldn’t have prayed for because I didn’t know— 1) what I needed, 2) who had the skill set, vision, and energy for the work.

Keith Helbley, project engineer, (on hiatus from work as an electrical engineer) brought sustained excitement, a wealth of problem-solving skills, and delightful innovation and flexibility to the work. Keith and I met with Dean Johnny Thomas to propose hanging 16,000+ cardboard spoons from a suspended net in the rotunda. The same space where empty still stood. In that meeting I learned that Keith is an alum of the MBA program at Zapara! Perfect! 

One part technical, one part enthusiasm, and two parts kindness, Keith impressed Johnny. Johnny nodded to me, If your engineer says it can be done, go ahead. 

Keith drafted a feasibility handout. With it the project won approval from Risk Management, Physical Plant, and the local Fire Marshal. He designed and built spoon-making stations and set them up all around the La Sierra University campus. Students, staff and faculty could trace and cut out spoons in the library, the dining commons, dorms, biology, humanities, or chemistry buildings. He showed up to weekend spoon making events that I set up. Fishing line, upholstery thread, crochet cotton were all prototyped and tested by Keith. He spent weeks figuring out how to attach and lift the net without embedding hardware or using a hydraulic lift. The problems he solved make a LONG list. And all this while being really fun to work with.

Iris Escudero, graphic designer, created elegant show cards and the layout and design for brilliant artist and engineer statements. Look for her inspired spoon logo and the lunch tray motif. 

Iris also created an integral part of the installation I call the data mats. She transformed my collection of tough facts about hunger in California into stunning counterpoints for the floor under and around the hanging net. Viewers are compelled to bow their heads to read the mats and at the same time to embody contemplation or meditation as they lower their head to spend time with the lived experience of hungry school children. 

Our point person for all things related to Zapara School of business, is Lovelyn Razzouk. She coordinated calendar events including a campus-wide contest for cutting out spoons, a week-long Love Riverside spoon-making event for the community, and our formal reception as part of Alumni Weekend at La Sierra.  

Because of this dream team, no sleep was lost in the making of this work. Really.

Add to this over four hundred volunteers who collected food boxes, traced and cut out spoons, threaded the spoons and then showed up over spring break to attach the spoons to the net. Each person made a contribution of their time and attention. Each one sat with a hard reality that they might otherwise overlook, and felt like they could make a difference.

All of this is far better than any prayers I might have prayed to be a working artist. Here is what I call prayer now.

When I journal and center at the top of the day, the words I linger with are: OPEN WAY. I pen the letters in large, soft form so even the writing feels OPEN. Borrowed from the Quaker tradition, these words have come to be a touchstone for my spiritual practice. OPEN WAY means I take a step and then another and another, as the way opens before me. When I can’t see the next step, I wait and I trust.

And here I am.