Neighbor Featured Artist #28: Lynne Olka

A Time for Counting Blessings

Because I am hearing impaired, I have to admit that for many years I didn’t give much attention to birds. After getting my first hearing aids, I remember commenting to a loved one that suddenly it seemed as though the birds were shouting at the top of their lungs as I walked along Main Street. The partial restoration of my ability to hear has made a major difference in my life. Friends tell me I’m more involved in the world around me. The telephone is no longer the obstacle it once was. My experience of music, which I have always loved, is much deeper and richer than ever. I’ve had the pleasure of rediscovering movies and plays through the delight of hearing words, phrases, and significant moments previously missed. It’s as though I’ve come out of a shell and had to learn how to pay attention from the confinement of letting so much pass by as unimportant because I couldn’t hear it anyway. But I think I will never forget that birdsong was the first thing to break through my self-imposed isolation.
Despite all this, I was still puzzled in this last week by the fact that I was noticing birds so particularly. Doves on Monument Hill flew into my awareness. Mockingbirds dive bombed robins and starlings in aggressive defense of their territory. Cardinals in vivid red made such a good match for their ladies in more matronly rust tones. Then I saw a plump, sassy blue jay and I knew why I had birds on the brain. They were a continuing reminder of our friend Lynne Olka.
If you keep up with this column, you may remember that Lynne was one of the first artists featured here. She died recently, weeks after an automobile accident put her in a coma. Her death was one that produced mixed emotions, sadness and grief for a friend gone so suddenly from our lives combined with relief for a creative, talented soul released from a body that had lost the ability to express itself. Getting older includes an increasing familiarity with death and its consequences. It becomes easier to place departed ones within the great pattern of life. Whether this is an example of wisdom or just a coping mechanism for our own inevitable mortality I do not know. I do know that Lynne Olka’s passing is a deeply felt loss for both myself and her close friend, gallery director James-Ben Stockton.
Although the images surrounding this text will help you understand, those of us who knew her personally immediately recognize why birds are such good symbols for Lynne and her life. They were the frequent subject of her art work. They were her dear friends and pets. “While I was always glad to see Lynne come in the door of the gallery,” says James-Ben Stockton, “it was such a special treat when she brought one or more of her parrots with her.” Her sister Bonnie remembers that she would carry fledgling parrots that she’d rescued in her sleeves as she went about her errands. It was her prismacolor blue jay image that came to mind when I saw that sassy bird in a walnut tree and knew exactly who would be the subject of this column. Aside from her painting, birds were Lynne’s passionate interest and it must be noted that she exemplified the old axiom about the resemblence between humans and their pets. With her large, round glasses and short hair and stature, Lynne often made me think of Archimedes, Merlin’s owl in “The Sword in the Stone”. When something engaged her interest, the glasses went swiftly to the top of her head and laser-like attention was directed at the source.
I previously shared with you some of Lynne’s biography - her birth in New York state and upbringing in Oak Ridge, Tennessee. She was fortunate in being able to spend much of her working life in art-related fields such as illustration, design and layout for various print media. When I interviewed her for her feature in the Neighbor/Artist column, it was obvious that she got tremendous enjoyment from the work that combined her restless creativity and professional career. Hers was a life characterized by hard work and personal challenges; during her last years here in Greeneville, which we were privileged to share, she dealt with bouts of ill-health including severe allergies. James-Ben Stockton recalls that she shared her friendship through good and bad. “We would talk for hours, about all sorts of things,” he says. “Lynne was always interested in starting a new project. It pleased me that she used her interaction with the gallery, and the creativity it inspired, as a way of healing herself.” Over the past few years Lynne’s use of her talent in specific projects for James-Ben Art Center resulted in an amazing variety of art work. Handpainted reproductions of pages from the medieval St. Gall Gospel Book showed her mastery of illustration. Tiny framed Christmas ornaments revealed her affection for animals. Her gift for portraiture brought joy to local families and led to new growth as an artist. “In response to the gallery emphasis on art with historic themes, Lynne developed ‘story portraits’,” says James-Ben. “In these, she not only painted an historic figure but included items significant to that person’s life and career. Among her last works were images of Andrew Johnson and Davy Crockett. The Johnson image was one of the best contributions to our Andrew Johnson Bicentennial Celebration Collection.”
Like James-Ben, I am very sad for the departure of a friend. As with other talented artists, there is always regret for the creative works that will never be. But Lynne left us with a loving gift. My last memory of Lynne is of her throwing back her head in uproarious laughter as she told us stories of her youthful indiscretions. From the twinkle in her eye, I could tell she would have been happy to do them all again. It is always appropriate, at times of difficulty even more than when all is copacetic, to count your blessings. Lynne Olka was one of mine.
Goodbye, dear friend.