Miami in the 70's

Miami in the 70s was a blend of sandy beaches, warm and vibrant colors, and a rich mix of multicultural words and music. We lived in South Dade near Coconut Grove, but Miami Beach, airboats in the Everglades, and drives over the bridges to the Keys were just a short journey away. Back then, traffic was reasonable, and life was affordable.

One of our favorite family outings was to Parrot Jungle, where we could meander through tropical gardens, feed goldfish in the coral pools, watch flamingos being fed, and enjoy bird trick shows. We always made time to chat with our favorite birds, ending the visit with a conversation with the myna bird: “Hello!” It was a cherished outing we returned to time and time again.

Miami’s lively tropical environment provided endless artistic inspiration, but at that time, my focus was on nurturing creativity in my own two little preschool artists. Crayons, markers, paper, tempera paints, and cardboard blocks filled our days, fostering their imagination through drawing and building.

Having previously taught art in schools, I appreciated all forms of children’s artistic expression, especially those early magical moments when wobbly marks and scribbles evolve into circles. Soon after, human features begin to emerge, and storytelling follows. Rhoda Kellogg, who collected thousands of children’s drawings from around the world, identified a universal pattern of child development in art. She believed all children are artists—an idea I agree with. I was fortunate to have my own small collection of these early masterpieces.

Living near the Metropolitan Art Museum was another gift, as it offered exhibits, events, and art classes. I was invited to develop and teach a class for preschoolers—a challenge given their short attention spans. To create an engaging space, small wooden stools were crafted with carpet sample tops, allowing the children to sit in a circle before spreading out for activities. The group was small, and I guided them through simple, fun art explorations.

While teaching the children's class, I also took a pottery course with a well-known instructor. We started with hand-building techniques, beginning with pinch pots and moving on to slab work. The most fascinating part, however, was learning about glazing techniques, especially raku. Another process involved firing our light clay pots in a pit filled with sawdust, creating a smoldering fire overnight. The cooled pieces revealed unique, smoky patterns from the sawdust and plant imprints—always a surprise.

The museum also hosted exciting events, including appearances by the Miami Dolphins and other celebrities. A highlight for me was attending a luncheon and talk by the renowned Gloria Vanderbilt, who was promoting her book Collage. As staff members, we were asked to assist as hostesses, dressed in floral dresses to match her pastel theme. Her speech reflected her deep passion for collage, which she described as bringing elements together in new and unique ways. Her sincerity and striking beauty left a lasting impression. In the foreword of Collage, Wyatt Cooper described her as: “She has the freshness of Snow White and the glamour of the Wicked Queen.”

In her book, Gloria Vanderbilt shows how to create 2D collages on flat surfaces with assorted materials. She also uses photos and descriptions to guide readers through the creation of artistic interiors, showcasing her distinctive style. She remains an inspiration—not only as an artist but as a woman who overcame a difficult childhood to become a mother, author, artist, and successful businesswoman.

Around this time, my love for teaching and working with children led me to learn about a new Art Therapy program at Miami University, which was offering scholarships. Though I was encouraged to apply, I wasn’t quite ready. A decade later, I pursued this path through a master’s program at the School of the Art Institute in Chicago, eventually returning to Miami to work with children with special needs.

To this day, I smile whenever I see children's drawings. Having been blessed with four grandchildren, I’ve had the joy of experiencing this creative phase all over again with them. During one visit, we filled my sketchbook with drawings together—precious moments that I treasure. Thanks to them, I have a few more wonderful circles to share.

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