Mary's Art Starts in the Garden

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Much More Than an Art Show:
A Surprise Invitation Prompted the Documentation of My Life’s Work
November 2025

An email arrives on my laptop as I sit comfortably, feet up in my recliner in the living room. It's a note from my friend asking if I’d be interested in taking part in a two-person show with her at our college alma mater. 

She writes, “The challenge is that we only have a month before we hang the show.” I’m thinking how easy that will be for me since I’m a seasoned professional who has been participating in art shows for decades. I have all my work prepped for hanging, documented, blurbs written, and photography prepared. This will be a piece of cake!
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The next day, as I’m blissfully planning what I’m going to include in the show, my friend mentions we would be showing the artwork we created when we attended classes at the college over forty years ago! Well, that really changed my plans! I didn’t even remember what I created all those decades ago.

​First, I needed to figure out where I stored all of that work. I begin to check all the nooks and crannies of my studio storage as well as the basement. With no other options left, I decide to climb the wooden, pull-down ladder leading to the stuffy attic in my home. I’m in my late 70s, so I avoid climbing ladders whenever possible, but I was driven.

And that’s where I found them — boxes and portfolios filled with drawings and paintings that hadn’t seen the light of day for too many decades. I sifted through drawings of my sons, now middle-aged, when they were little boys playing with Matchbox cars on the living room floor, digging sand at the beach, and hitting baseballs in the Little League fields. Memories of those years were stirred up. I felt waves of conflicting emotions flood through me as I pulled each piece of artwork out. I remembered the tumultuous feelings I had been experiencing when I originally created this art as a soon-to-be single parent. But the quality of the work surprised me in a good way. My drawing skills were much better than I’d remembered, and my brushwork and paint handling were already established, a foreshadow of the paintings I create now.
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With minor touchups and framing, most of the work was exhibition-ready. These early works would enrich the story of my current work and add historical background and context to how my life story and my work had evolved over the years.

My Hubby Dave, Helping to Hang the Show at Queens College's Rosenthal Library (April 2025)
Photo Courtesy: Mary Ahern

"I realized this newfound work deserved the same level of documentation as the work I’d created the last several decades. So I embarked on a labor of love that took many more months."

A month passed, and the show was taken down. But I wasn’t ready to banish these early works to the attic again, unknown and anonymous. I realized this newfound work deserved the same level of documentation as the work I’d created the last several decades. So I embarked on a labor of love that took many more months.

The walls in my home are filled, as are the closets and basement storage spaces. The work deserved respect, so I had to think strategically about how to solve this dilemma, taking into consideration my commitment to avoiding climbing ladders.

​I now have a climate-controlled storage room in a facility near my home. No more dusty attics, no more climbing. All my works, those pieces I can’t fit in my home — both new and old — now reside in this safe space.

This, after all, is my legacy.

My next decision: I needed to decide who to entrust this legacy to. I wanted someone much younger than me, but my son is absorbed with his career and settling into what will be his seasonal “snowbird” existence.

My husband, Dave, agreed with me that the obvious person was our adult grandson, CJ, who had worked with me in the studio painting and creating assemblages when he was a child. He has sat with me at art festivals, has loaded my car with art, and climbs ladders to remove and rehang art in my studio as it comes and goes for the many shows I’m still enthusiastically exhibiting in. I know he is deeply attached to my art and would also have an interest in preserving it.​

My Grandson CJ at Five Working in My Studio (2005)
Photo Courtesy: Mary Ahern

Ten-Year-Old CJ Drawing with a Lightbox in My Studio (2010)
Photo Courtesy: Mary Ahern

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​Over the phone, I gently asked him a few questions, testing his interest in the proposal. He seemed stunned but clearly pleased. At his favorite diner in town, he and I discussed the details of the legacy I would like to entrust to him. I told him about the legal copyrights of my work that would be his when I’m gone. He understands that my work replaces any headstone in a plot of grass somewhere. He knows what matters to me. He also knows that I don’t want this legacy to be a burden for him — it would be his choice as to what he does with my work, my website, and my writings. We had an important, meaningful and bittersweet conversation.

Months later, I am still working diligently to document the work that represents my visual biography. I’ve reviewed steps in my life’s journey that revealed forgotten passages of my experience. Most importantly, I’ve connected with my grandson in what might have otherwise been difficult conversations about life’s passing. He knows I was with him moments after he was born, and he understands he’ll be there for me, moments after I’m gone. We are both aware and enriched by this reality.

CJ and Me
Photo Courtesy: Mary Ahern

​Now, sitting in the same recliner where I received the surprise invitation from my friend, I appreciate how this experience proved to be so much more than an art show. 

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PREVIOUS INSTALLMENTS:
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"Your Body Is Like Your Garden: Pay Attention to Signs of Distress"
"Walking on the Paths Carved by Centuries of Women Artists"​
I’m Aging Gracefully by Finding Creative Ways to Continue Doing the Things I Enjoy
A Strategy to Embrace: Lifelong Learning
Awakenings in the Garden: An Artist's Journey
Women Helping Women: A Recipe for Success
A Virtual Visitor Had Me Contemplating My Lifelong Career in the Arts
My Dual Passions

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