Sunshine and Olly

by Jonathan Blaustein

Not gonna lie.

It was fun writing yesterday’s highly critical article.

(Crushing bad art feels good.)

It’s been a while since I was a regular critic, as I don’t use Sunshine and Olly the same way I did my 11 year column at A Photo Editor.

I prefer it this way, as living inside a critic’s mind means constantly looking for flaws.

It’s possible I needed a long break to rejuvenate my own creativity, as now that I’m making art again, I feel lighter.

More positive.

Optimistic.

Frankly, for many years, I felt that having a creative outlet was crucial to health.

I still believe that, but now know that creativity alone won’t work. We also need physical exercise, (in large amounts,) as well as IRL socialization.

During the pandemic, I thought working online, and maintaining relationships that way, could lead me to success and happiness.

(No such luck.)

That said, creative pursuits are not only powerful, but in some cases, they can be life-saving. (Or at least lead to almost miraculous levels of healing.)

As always, I have a point, rather than just spouting off. (Especially as it’s a holiday week. No plans to waste your precious time.)

So what am I on about?

Today, I’m sharing a portfolio from Torrance York, an artist I “met” at the online Exposure portfolio review, put on by LACP last year. 

And it’s about as positive a use of art as you’re likely to find.





Unfortunately, Torrance was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease 9 years ago, which is the second leading brain illness after Alzheimer’s.

Jessie’s best friend Laurel has the same condition, and each week, they have an online dance party, as movement and art have been proven to improve the serious symptoms, mostly associated with a loss of motor skills.

(Though reading Torrance’s literature, I learned the issue is primarily with dopamine production.)

The series we’ll see a part of is called Semaphore, a term that relates to a coded symbology. (Originally associated with flags.)

The project was meant to reflect the difference in Torrance’s lived experience, but also represents her personal efforts to use art to manage, or perhaps combat, the debilitation. 

Not only is it working for her, (giving joy, purpose, and symptom relief,) but she’s also become an advocate, using exhibitions, lectures and publications to spread the word.

In fact, she currently has a show up at the Lightburn Gallery at the New Canaan Library, (in Connecticut,) and will be doing programming with them later this month, along with a lecture with Open Show LA in July as well.





Art has been a part of my entire adult life.

Some years, (like the last few, when my career has been on ice,) I lose sight of the bigger picture.

It’s been almost a decade now since I taught photography to at-risk youth, (which I did for 11 years,) and it wears away at my idealism. 

(Not sure if that happens to you as well.)

So today’s post is in honor of Torrance York, and her brave fight against PD, but it’s also meant to offer you some inspiration. 

The Bear angered me, because it gave up on hope, and embraced nihilism.

Torrance York has done no such thing.