I strolled through the art festival, bored and numb. Art copying cartoon characters. Sketches of Heisenberg. Another kid drawing Manga fan crap. Lots of trademark and copyright infringement, if you ask me. No originality.

Wait. Original photos. Nope. Bad, out-of-focus photos of the beach glued onto wood. Where is the public bathroom so I can release my lunch?

I turned down the path towards the cupcake cart so my stepson and husband could sugar bomb themselves. We passed the wire-wrapped plastic bead jewelry lady. I glanced, briefly, at the guy selling stuff he bought at the dollar store and was reselling for a 500% markup. Wasn’t this supposed to be a juried art fair? Where was the art?

And then I froze.

THE LADIES

The painting high on the display panel depicted a captivating, faceless woman. A rush of heat filled my chest while my stomach chilled. I squinted and stared as my heart thudded inside me.

The picture was me.

And you.

And every woman who is invisible in the world.

Our artist spotlight this month casts its light on the creator of that touching and moving piece. Meet Beatrice Shoff.

My first words to Beatrice:

“This is the first piece in this show that speaks to me.”

She was gracious and flattered. We chatted briefly, and I took one of her cards, with the intention of contacting her for this interview.

Even after speaking with her for an hour, she is hard to know. Like me, and probably like you, she is guarded. That social approach comes with the territory of living life in a world filled with altered selfies, shaming, and strangers passing each other without a glance.

I asked what inspired her series of these faceless ladies.

“Just me. Just me. I had — growing up, things weren’t always easy. And it was kind of — the ladies helped me be the person I am today. I was incredibly shy, reserved. Did you ever hear the term she’s like wallpaper? That was me.”

That describes many of us. The invisible. The silent observer defined by the fear of being seen. The fear of rejection. I probe, gently.

SELF EXPRESSION IS EMPOWERMENT

“Through tragedy — the loss of my father — I came out of my shell. Those circumstances brought about the ladies. They are people. To me, they are real. They came from that place.”

Take a moment. Look at them.

Beatrice has no studio. She has a full-time job in the business world, working with numbers. Beatrice’s art, what she calls her little hobby, is guiding her. They are “evolving into something.”

She tells me her mother was a hobbyist artist. Beatrice followed in her footsteps. Life changes inspired her. She started with other pieces, like the eye-level view of the ocean, below. With mixed media, paint on aluminum, sometimes automotive paint, sometimes acrylic, she dove in. Stopped. Returned to it.

“My vision was so clear. Self expression is empowerment.”

Her sister, who is her most supportive fan, urged, “You’re going back to art, right? Right?”

Beatrice pines: “My sister is my best friend. She recognized my art brings me peace. Gets me out of my head.”

EMERGING

Through her website, Lunar Safyre, Beatrice sells prints, tee-shirts and bags of her ladies. She is also toying with painting on glass. She’s done a few art shows, tentatively putting a toe into the art world. She received some press after the Smithville Artwalk (where I met her) and plans on expanding the merchandise to mugs and key chains. She’s working on her social media. We are here for the birth of an artist.

“Anything you do in life is not going to be easy. You have to have patience with yourself and your art. But it’s so rewarding. It feeds your soul. Even if 2, 3 or 1 say I love it, I’m good. I’m happy when people get it. Get the message.” But she is uncertain if her work would fit in galleries.

Doesn’t that say so much? I wonder at the hesitation so many talented artists have — feeling as if their work isn’t mainstream or marketable. I think we, as artists, need to change that perception.

She tells me she was inspired to create. She decided, “This is what I need,” and that her decision to create “started as a dream.”

A dream she did not share with me. I suppose that is à propos. Her story is clear, no matter what she leaves unspoken. Her story is mine. Her story is yours.

And the ladies scream it to the world: I am here. See me.

And see this artist emerging with a message of love and acceptance to inspire us all.