We’re excited to introduce you to the always interesting and insightful Cody F. Miller. We hope you’ll enjoy our conversation with Cody F. below.

Hi Cody F., thanks for joining us today. What’s the kindest thing anyone has ever done for you?

( This might be more information than you really wanted. It’s an excerpt from a speech I gave through the Storytellers Project which is part of the USA TODAY NETWORK )
I grew up in a little village named St. Louisville. It’s about an hour east of Columbus sandwiched in between Newark and Utica. I would spend whole summers down at the creek catching frogs, crawdads and snakes.The Ground underneath our family started to shift early My father Jim died in a tractor accident when I was 2 1/2 my mother Harriet was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis when I was about 9. My brother Adam and I watched our mother constructing this makeshift village to help support our family.

Visit to Florida

When I was about 10 we went down to Florida for a week to visit my grandparents. In short order they introduced us to their next door neighbors Bob and Jan. They checked off and on throughout the week. The last day of our visit, my grandparents threw a birthday party for me. Jan and Bob came. I remember they bought me this “Jaws” coloring book. Which at the time I thought I’d probably just need a red crayon for the whole book. I was also at this awkward age where I pointed out the woman in the bathing suit more than the shark about to consume her. Jan and Bob nervously laughed while my mom assured them that they picked a great gift. Before we left mom exchanged phone numbers with Jan.

Bob and Jan arrive

A few years pass, as my mothers health deteriorates and she’s at her wits end with my brother and I, I notice mom confiding over the phone with Jan more and more.
One day, smoking cig, listening to 8 track on our huge furniture stereo my mom calmly states to me “Bob and Jan are selling everything and they are coming here to help our family” She Reiterates this same statement two weeks later. I had no where to store this so I just went on with my day each time it was shared.
A few weeks later I’m coming in from mowing the grass and the phone rings. “ Hi Cody, this is Jan, wanted to let you know Bob and I are about 4 hours away.”
Everything went slow-mo, this was really happening . The moment I hung up the phone I realized what a train wreck our house was. I ran upstairs put new sheets on mom’s bed ( Her she was living in the living room because she could no longer climb the stairs.) crammed stuff into closets, vacuumed, dusted, hopefully creating some semblance of normalcy.
When they arrived Bob was driving this big old Lincoln Continental with a Uhaul attached to the back. And as they were taking in our village, our very tired house, and our extremely awkward welcome their whole demeanor said “ What the hell have we gotten ourselves into?”
A little bit about Bob and Jan. They were a formidable force . They were married in the early sixties. Bob was from Sicily and had very dark skin Jan was of Swedish descent and had very light skin. They dealt with racism from day one of their marriage, Bob was a very good boxer, he stopped competing when the mafia told him to take a dive in a fight, which he ignored. At some point he opened a boxing club for troubled youth. Jan had this encompassing smile that accompanied her gift of hospitality. They immediately brought a sense of stability to our home.

Living with Bob and Jan

Within few months they moved out lived in home 20 minutes away. A number of months after that My brother and I moved out because our mother could no longer care for us.
We Lived with Aunt and uncle for a short period before my brother went to live with another aunt and uncle until graduation.
I went to live with Bob and Jan. This was a difficult arrangement, to say the least.I had great difficulty knowing how to function in a healthy family.
I moved away and came back many times, each time Bob and Jan were trying to find a home that could support me in ways they couldn’t. It was so incredibly confusing. I would walk into these new homes and just blow the whole thing up. It was this Total blitzkrieg of emotions trying to find my place in this world.

I did know this though

Every time the dust settled They we’re there, They weren’t going anywhere and they believed in me. As an artist Jan and Bob always found ways to support this passion I’ve had since an early age. I remember Jan getting me this large Van Gogh book. Inside she wrote the inscription “ To Cody, our next Van Gogh “ I knew it was an outrageous statement but I received wholeheartedly nonetheless. I remember Bob taking me to the Governers award exhibition at Fort Hayes because I had a few pieces in the show. On our way home he shared his thoughts on why he thought my art had its own distinctive voice. I didn’t know what that meant but had an inkling that It was a compliment.

Jan’s Death

My last stay with Bob and Jan she came down with Pneumonia, within days she died. They lived in Florida because of her comprised immune system. We were devastated , especially Bob. At one point Bob bought this old wooden boat that needed a lot of restoration. Bob worked late every night. So this became my ritual for a good part of the remaining school year, I’d come home, do my homework, head out to the garage, crank R.E.M. climb inside the boat and work at stripping off old varnish. Somehow that little boat became a cocoon, a sanctuary. There was something beautifully methodical about working on that vessel. We took it to Buckeye Lake a few times. I began to realize this boat became our way of processing the loss of Jan. Shortly after that I moved out for the last time, I did not leave on good terms with Bob it primarily had to due with me being completely self absorbed. I have not seen him in 32 years.

Conclusion

To this day I’m still trying to figure out why Bob and Jan gave up everything to help a family that were essentially strangers to them.
As the realization of their incredible sacrifice sinks in a little more year after year, I’m baffled in a powerful, beautiful, confusing way.
They planted seeds that they never got to reap, yet this didn’t deter them.

Addressing Bob and Jan

Bob and Jan, I hope this short testimony might due you justice,wherever you may be. That you would know that your sacrifice was not in vain. That the expensive grace you bestowed upon me completely changed the trajectory of my life. Anne Lamott said “ I do not understand the mystery of grace — only that it meets us where we are and does not leave us where it found us.”
This grace played an instrumental role in me graduating from CCAD, in me teaching and promoting artists with disabilities for 27 years, in me volunteering at a food pantry the last 8 years, and painting murals for orphans recovering from cleft palette surgery in China, and continually creating mixed media art that explores that mysterious word “ Grace”
Your love for me makes me think about how even the smallest acts of kindness just might be enough to change someone’s life.
Thank you for being a neighbor to me.I hope you are as proud of me as I am of you.

As always, we appreciate you sharing your insights and we’ve got a few more questions for you, but before we get to all of that can you take a minute to introduce yourself and give our readers some of your back background and context?

My mixed media work consists of magazine clippings, historic ledgers, various printmaking techniques, drawing and painting. I start with a detailed design or sometimes just a rough sketch. From there the process is a series of chain reactions, from start to finish. I’ll often cut out 10 different patterns for one dress. For example, once I find the one I like, I might realize the whole color scheme should be monochromatic so I change the background in order to emphasize the foreground.

Much of my work is a response to the word ‘grace.’ Kathleen Norris wrote, “If grace is so wonderful why do we have such difficulty recognizing and accepting it? Maybe it’s because grace is not gentle or made-to-order. It often comes disguised as loss, or failure, or unwelcome change.” Often I show people on a journey; their painful moments force them into a kind of exile where everything is foreign and disorienting. It’s about longing for home and the hope of return. Strings are a frequent metaphor, which represent all the people, memories, books, places, and events that have shaped someone in a mysteriously beautiful manner. Sometimes my subjects’ hands are open, offering something of themselves to the world, yet they are also holding some form of light to make sense of the darkness. Mary Oliver writes: “Someone once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this too, was a gift.” This is what keeps me coming back to the studio, capturing these small acts of kindness that quietly begin to illuminate everything.

What do you find most rewarding about being a creative?

Well, I have to admit, probably 1/3 of the time in my studio is frustrating. I can’t buy a new idea sometimes and my sketches fail to cooperate at the next level. I’ve tried to bribe them but they stand firm. As a full time artist I’ve found this one thing to be true; you have to show up every day regardless of how you feel, regardless of the creative bank being currently empty. This faithful discipline creates space for something quite mysterious to happen. For me it’s rare, this undiluted grade A joy. A few months ago, when I was working ,there was this peculiar flow to the piece that was beyond me. The light coming through the window was otherworldly, a song came on I hadn’t heard in years, and the beer was particularly good. It all came at once and I drank in that sacred moment because I knew it’d be gone in 10 minutes. As small as that may sound, it was a moment of absolute confirmation that meant infinitely more than I’ll be able to echo.

What do you find most rewarding about being a creative?

My work is steeped in story, When a customer welcomes that image as a sojourner into their own lives I’m constantly humbled. Over the years I’ve learned to talk less and listen more, to bear witness to someones history is such a vulnerable beautiful moment in time.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.codyfmiller.com
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/codyf.miller
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/cody.miller

Image Credits
Julie Miller for all images