TO ARRIVE WHERE WE STARTED
Reflections along the river and “silly” sketches lead to local woman’s
art exhibit
Columbia River Reader • Original artwork
by Deena Martinsen
During a decade of exploration and evolution, Deena Martinsen found a lifeline
along the  edge of the Columbia River and drew pictures instead of taking notes
in school. Evidence of the re-emergence of her childhood art form will be exhibited
for the first time at the Longview Public Library Oct. 19–Nov. 1. The show
includes sketches “watercolor-ized” with the same paints Martinsen
enjoyed as a child and which reflect a playfulness not reserved for the young.
“My art is silly,” said Martinsen, 59, downplaying her status as
an artist.  “It isn’t really art. It’s simple. It’s just
a few lines.”
But those lines have helped ease the way through transitions in her life, with
their losses and gains, lessons, joys and pain.
“The art tied these all together,” she said. “It’s been
a piece of my life the last 10 years.” Martinsen’s show reflects
her personality and everyday experiences, with illustrations and stories from
Columbia River Reader, outdoor scenes and whimsical images of purses, shoes,
holiday ornaments, musical instruments and martinis. The sketches may be playful,
but their origins are rooted in a heavy heart.
Willow Grove: grief therapy
 About 10 years ago, Martinsen was newly-divorced, deeply disillusioned and feeling
the weight of responsibility as the single mother of two boys. She got an idea
for a book — or at least its title — while depressed and feeling
adrift. She imagined writing Fishhook in the Heart.
“I would go out to the river,” she recalled, “and see the barges
going by. I’d take pictures and make sketches for my book.” She has
yet to write the words of the book, but while she drew its illustrations at the
river, she also drew something from the river.
“I had all these sketchbooks,” she said. “I would run out there
with my backpack and a chair.” The ritual offered a rhythm and a sense
of purpose.“It made me get in my car and go out and wait for the ships,” she
recalled. “While I was out there, I’d sketch the Scotch broom. I
found comfort at the river.” The sight of eagles and blue herons uplifted
her. And the river itself offered messages.
“Things would wash up,” she recalled, “ . . . things like seed
pods,” that she related to her life, her feelings and her future. “Ooh,
what’s this?” she would ask, investigating items along the shoreline. “What
does it tell me?”
“I identified with the river,” she said. “I would continually
get signs out there.”
Years later, in an epiphany, she realized the time she spent at the river was
a sort of grief therapy. “That’s what it was!” she said. ‘I
felt lost, but I found continuity at the river.”
A matter of degree
Formerly a college dropout, Martinsen never had trouble finding a job.
Over the years, she worked as an orthodontist’s lab technician, a
bookshop café server, a Kaiser Permanente adminstrative assistant and,
most recently, for Lower Columbia Community Action Program. She  will soon
begin a new marketing position with Longview’s Columbia Theatre for the
Performing Arts. To her, the mid-life appeal of completing a college degree was
tied less to specific career aspirations than, “Just to say I did it.”
“I remember promising my mom I was going to get my degree,” she said.
When her mother died in 1991, Martinsen resolved to pursue the goal in earnest. “I
wasn’t quite sure how I was going to do it,” she said. But in due
time, she found a way to go back to college while working full time.
When two high school friends, Karla Dudley and Sue Piper, also approaching age
50, enrolled in Linfield College’s adult degree program, Martinsen followed
suit. In the  spring of 2000, she “walked” in Linfield’s graduation
exercises, receiving a B.S. degree and wearing the same cap and gown Piper and
Dudley had each worn, in turn, in 1998 and 1999. The trio share ownership of
the keepsake.
Passport to education
To earn her degree in social and behavioral sciences, Martinsen attended classes
held mostly evenings or weekends at Lower Columbia College in Longview or on
Linfield’s McMinnville, Oregon campus. Two classes involved international
travel: one to study South American culture in Peru and another to learn about
the iron age in England. Keeping a journal was part of the coursework, explained
Martinsen. But her journals were different form the other students’.
“Instead of writing things down,” she said,“it was easier for
me to take my pencils out and make a sketch.” While sightseeing, she would
sketch a point or item of interest, then read about it that night.
Describing herself as “a very visual person,” she said, “I’m a
hands-on learner. I see it, then I remember what I’m supposed to learn.”
“Sketching is an emotional experience,” she said. “It’s
like shorthand. Some people journal. I’m lazy, so I don’t journal.
I sketch.”
The River rolls on
When Sue Piper became the publisher of Columbia River Reader, Martinsen was attracted
by the ship/river imagery and showed Piper a few of her riverside sketches. Several
old and new pieces found their way onto the pages of CRR. The April 2006 issue
marked the publication’s second anniversary and spotlighted Martinsen’s
art, celebrating the good life around the river, all of which can be found “outside
your back door.”
Suddenly, people noticed her artwork. “It was a pivot point,” Martinsen
recalled. Hans Schaufus, then in charge of scheduling exhibits in the Longview
Public Library’s Koth Gallery, expressed interest. Schaufus knew
Martinsen was a musician, she said, but had never regarded her as an artist.
“Not before he saw the stuff in CRR.”
“When they (the Library staff) said they’d scheduled my show and
that I should bring my portfolio in,” Martinsen said, laughing, “I
didn’t know what that would be, because I don’t have a portfolio.”  The
show, booked about 18 months ago, runs through Nov 1.
“I thought they were humoring me,” at first, she recalled. However,
positive feedback continued. “I got some other affirmation. Then I realized:
This isn’t as silly as I thought.”
She began to see her art in a new way. “I was surprised that my artwork
was admired,” she recalled. “You don’t have to be an oils artist
or an acrylic artist . . . you can be a free sketching artist,” said Martinsen,
who also expresses herself through music.
Music: expressive, like art
“Music is expression,” she said,
“. . . an outlet. It’s kind of like art. You can interpret it any
way you want. The notes are there, but you add your own spin to it. It’s
kind of like drawing a picture.”
Martinsen took up the French horn under Cal Storey’s tutelage in the fifth
grade. “He was encouraging,” she recalled. “He loved the French
horn.” As to Storey’s passion and style as a teacher/mentor, she
said, “They don’t make ‘em like that anymore.”
Know your place
Of the nine French horn players in the Monticello Junior High School band, Martinsen
was the only girl. Early in the year, one of the boys, Tommy Manners, took her
aside and threatened to beat her up if she got first chair.
“I was scared,” she said. She didn’t practice. Eventually,
the school called her parents to say she was not progressing and was getting
a “D.”
“They said I was lazy,” Martinsen recalled. “It made me so
mad; I was over-achieving in everything else. I started practicing. I got
first chair and nobody beat me up.”
“I loved the sound of it,” she said of the French horn. Her brother,
eight years older, had also played. “My parents had already sold my brother’s
French horn, “ she recalled, “so they had to buy another one.” And
it turned out to be a sound investment.
 Martinsen graduated from R.A. Long High School in 1966 and joined the brand new
Southwest Washington Symphony the following year, remaining a constant member
over the years —widely recognized as the region’s premiere horn
player — and currently serving as the Symphony’s paid manager. She
also plays regularly with Quintessence, a brass quintet making music together
for 26 years.
Look for the fun of it
People need to look at things with a lighter heart, said Martinsen, known among
friends as upbeat and witty. “I like to encourage the playful nature. We
should always look for the fun of it.
“If you’re silly, some people think you’re not all you could
be. They think being silly is inappropriate.” However, she noted, “You
restrict your life enjoyment by being too serious.” And she has a suggestion
for those who are glum: “As hard as it is to live in the ‘now,’ look
at the things that are going right, instead of the things that are going wrong.”
All the necessary pieces
Like many of her peers, Martinsen itched to get out of town after high school. “It
was everybody’s goal to leave Longview,” she said, “because
(we thought) there was nothing going on here.” She lived briefly in Corvallis,
Ore., later settling in Castle Rock, Wash., and, for the last 15 years has grown
content, back in her home town. Her perspective has changed.
“Longview offers all the necessary pieces of my dream,” said Martinsen,
who enjoys running, camping, hiking, community theatre and music and spending
time with her two grandsons. “I don’t know what else I would look
for,” she said.
Content and knowing the place
“I think it’s comforting to see people everyday that you know.” And
to look around and appreciate what your own little world offers, she added. A
quote from a poem by T.S. Eliot is among her favorites:
“We shall not cease from exploration. And the end of all our exploring
will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.”
“I rehearse in the same room (at Monticello Middle School) where I learned
to play the French horn,” she noted. “It’s a constant. Even
though I’m older, I’m sitting there, almost in the same chair . .
. it’s a Peter Pan kind of thing . . . the boy who never grew up.”
•••
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IF YOU GO
“Necessary Pieces”
Art Exhibit by Deena Martinsen
Oct 19 - Nov 1
Koth Gallery Longview Public Library, 1600 Larch St, Longview, Wash.
Info 360-442-5200
Hours M-Th 10–8, Fri 10–6, Sat 10–5.
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