Susan Mustard’s Art

I had never heard of Susan Mustard until I went into Crow Valley Gallery a few weeks ago on a whim to look at all the art by different local artists. There is a beautiful variety in there, and the painting that immediately jumped off the canvas and captured me was Susan’s large oil rendition of Black Dog Farm’s Thrift Cabin on Enchanted Forest Road.

I love it – the vibrance, the bright green moss on the roof, the vivid greens and oranges, I could go on and on. There’s just something magical about that painting, and it’s a place I’ve been umpteen times on umpteen walks.

I quickly realized that’s how all of Susan’s art makes me feel – she captures everyday scenes in their vivid colors and textures, and you’re immediately transported to dozens of memories you’ve made in those very places. She has this gift of reminding us with her art that all the “regular” people and places in our lives are amazing, stunning, so-not-regular – good reminders especially after two years of being isolated from each other and our usual activities together by the pandemic.

She shows locals (that we recognize!) shopping at the Christmas Artisan’s Faire in the Odd Fellows Hall; laundry drying on a line strung through a forest at camp; people dancing through the Village Green after the Solstice Parade; one of my favorite horse chestnut trees in its brilliant seasonal colors; little familiar white buildings in town with popping pink blossoms in spring; Olga Symphony playing inside Emmanuel Episcopal Church.

Those things aren’t ordinary when your own life has been wrapped up in them – we’ve all cherished the warm Solstice sun on our skin amid dozens of happy conversations among dancers at the Green; we’ve likely stomped on chestnuts from the same tree to shed their prickly skins and get to the surreal smooth brown chestnut inside; we’ve all marveled at the blossoms that are at this very moment bursting in various pinks all over town; and so many of us have memories of watching various musical groups give summer lunchtime Brown Bag Concerts at the Episcopal Church.

I had no idea that while I was capturing Life on Orcas Island for my book over the past ten years, Susan was capturing the same places with oil paints, collages made with book covers, and thread. She is a multiple-medium phenom documenting life one stroke, cut, and knot at a time.

This past Friday night, Susan had an artist reception at Crow Valley Gallery, and I realized – in a ‘that’s-so-Orcas’ kind of way – that I know Susan! I’ve danced alongside her in Zumba many a time at the Odd Fellows Hall! (Perhaps her next painting?) I just never knew her name. I even know where she lives; I just never knew what she was doing all that time behind closed doors! And oh, how I love to learn of all the amazing things people are doing here behind closed doors.

How fun it was to officially meet her and learn more about her. She’s so personable, so human, so quick to smile and explain her feelings about her art in a warm Texas drawl.

This fellow Texan has been involved with art most of her life – she has two art degrees, has taught art, and is a licensed counselor and art therapist. When she and her husband moved to Orcas Island in her late 50s, she was inspired by the myriad, popping colors all around her to document this place in its everyday magic.

During the pandemic, as many of us including Susan were straining to experience our regular levels of enthusiasm for life here, a new idea struck her – how about a series of medals honoring the everyday people who keep getting up, keep going, keep bringing out the best in others? A large portion of art at Susan’s reception on Friday was this new collection called “Heroes and Medals.” (See this article for more details on Susan’s line of thinking.) She explained that one of those heroes is Alyson Stephens, our island’s beloved Zumba teacher, who never stopped doing her best to pump energy and enthusiasm into people’s lives by getting up and teaching classes online until they could finally be in person. This is the medal inspired by Alyson’s tireless positivity:

Here are more examples of these medals Susan makes out of book-cover pieces cut and puzzled together:

If you’d love to see what all my excitement is about, make sure you go down to Crow Valley Gallery in Eastsound to see Susan’s artwork up close and personal. If I were an art collector, I’d probably buy half the pieces in the shop.

To get a headstart, go to Susan’s website here.