Daily Inspiration: Meet Hannah Scheffler

Today we’d like to introduce you to Hannah Scheffler.

Hi Hannah, can you start by introducing yourself? We’d love to learn more about how you got to where you are today?
I started using art as an emotional outlet from a young age, but it has since changed into something much deeper and more beautiful.

When I was a little girl, I was abused (sexually) and then brutally raped at 16. I had a hard time expressing myself because there were a lot of mixed feelings within my family. My mom, not sure how to help or if I should even be believed, encouraged me to write in a journal. So I did. I filled 2 Lisa Frank diaries with feelings about “the things that only God and I know”.

Back then, I mostly wrote poems and short stories. I would use metaphors to talk about the things that, for one reason or another, I could not express directly to the people around me. It was a way to feel heard, even if just for a moment.

I spent the majority of my 20’s becoming a mom and self-sabotaging most of my relationships with men. I wanted so much to feel loved, but I was still such a broken person. I met my son’s father while working in a small retail store. He swept me off my feet and as soon as I was his, horrible abuses began to happen and escalate over the course of 4 years.

During that time, I was able to publish a book of my poems. Unfortunately, I left my abuser soon after and wasn’t able to really get my book out there as I had planned. I was busy going to court, getting restraining orders, filing for all of my public information to be private, and drinking all my problems away every night. I didn’t yet know that I am an alcoholic, but I have since come to that realization.

After leaving my abuser, I enrolled in college with all the highest hopes of becoming something grand. That’s when I began to draw. Not because I took art classes (I actually never took any), but because I found myself either really bored or insanely anxious. I doodled as a way to distract my emotions and make it through class. After a year and a half, I dropped out of college. I was just so mentally done with everything.

I was in a somewhat normal relationship by that time and was working customer service for a bank. It was a great paying job and I enjoyed being able to put a smile on someone’s face or even help someone who was just having a rough go at life. While in between calls, I would doodle all over my small notepads. A few co-workers saw them and asked for some of my doodles, to which I happily handed them over. When I got home, I asked my partner at the time what he thought of my doodles. He shrugged and said they were ok, but nothing to write home about. I agreed and just kept to doodling during down time at work and appreciating the opportunity to share them with friends.

Still, I had this silent urge to just draw out my issues. I tried writing, which felt natural– but it wasn’t enough for me anymore.

I felt stifled within the bubble of my existence, bursting at the seams with inner secrets and truths. My body was 27, but my internal self was still a lost and desperate 5 yr old girl… and she was screaming to be validated.

At 27, one of my ovaries flipped over and began bleeding inside of my abdomen. I had it surgically removed and felt a slight shift in my emotional state of mind, but I was hopeful and returned to work a couple of weeks later. About a month after that, my entire uterus collapsed causing me to have a full hysterectomy, including my other ovary. I almost immediately began experiencing menopause.

My relationship quickly went down the drain, I quit my job, my car was stolen, and I found myself once again penniless and living with my mom. I was in shock, but had already begun dating again. Way way too soon, but I am grateful to this day because the man I started dating is the man I will be marrying this year, after 9 years together. I lovingly call him my Mister and he was absolutely pivotal in helping me find my voice.

Things with my Mister started out rough. Our second year in, I left him for a short period of time. When we reunited a few months later, he had learned some cool spray paint art techniques and was eager to show me. I was addicted the first time I shook that can. We did a few live spray painting shows at a local bar and had a blast with it. But, besides fighting my normal depression and anxiety (MDD and GAD), I was beginning to withdraw from the outside world more and more. I wanted to grow to become a better me, but I didn’t want anyone else to see. I was scared and let that fear fester in my gut until it manifested into full blown agoraphobia.

My Mister encouraged me to keep up the art, but I eventually lost interest and crawled back into myself. Refusing to give up hope, he continued to bring home all sorts of art supplies. It took up so much space, but he didn’t care. He saw something in me that I didn’t see at that time. He showed me how my art was reaching people on an emotional level. How people found solice, comfort, and understanding in my work.

That’s where the seed of purpose was planted in my mind.

I began drawing again. I started drawing mandalas as a way to meditate because I can’t still with my thoughts. I colored out my feelings, aspirations, and dreams. I use painting as a way to “play in the sandbox” as I always make a huge mess and have loads of fun. I have sold (and continue to sell) paintings, drawings, and prints. I don’t make much money from it, but I’m not driven by that.

As I posted my work and interacted with people about the feelings behind said piece, I found that a lot of people have similar struggles or have been through similar things. Each post, I would add more and more about my life, tragic events, self realizations, and encouragement. I feel like my art has become an avenue for a lot of people to find hope or healing within themselves.

My art and written words finally gave me purpose. I get the opportunity to talk to people from all over the world and learn about their lives. I get to watch them grow as I share my stages with life and mental illness. People feel validated and celebrated and it feels surreal to be a part of it.

Alright, so let’s dig a little deeper into the story – has it been an easy path overall and if not, what were the challenges you’ve had to overcome?
Depression causes long lapses of time between posting art related things. Anxiety and agoraphobia make it hard to get out in the world and meet the kind of people that could possibly help me on the business side of things. My Mister certainly appreciates when I can bring money in, but if I focus on making money, I find it difficult to tap into and focus on the emotions I am in need of expressing. I get blocked up and then I beat myself down for not being able to focus on both.

And, while it doesn’t happen often, some of my posts have upset people because of the content involved. I never intend to hurt anyone ever. I just talk very openly and honestly about my life because that’s the only way that works for me.

Alright, so let’s switch gears a bit and talk business. What should we know about your work?
I work with an assortment of mediums for art. Every piece is a release of emotion so they are all unique in their own way.

My art has been referred to as: whimsical, metaphorical, and weird like me.

My mandalas (hand drawn) express meditations and a desire to see the whole picture. People look at a mandala and assume they are perfectly designed. I am all too happy to show the hundreds of little flaws– flowers being different sizes, lines that squish together or aren’t straight as they should be, etc. It is abundant with flaws, but when seen as a whole, it’s beautiful. I feel like people are similar.

Other drawings are abstract and metaphorical. I’m still learning how to draw the human form, so I tend to draw weird flowers and such with faces on them. I also love dot work. You’ll find dots on almost all of my drawings and paintings.

My paintings are colorful and playful. I’ve sold most of them, but do not have the opportunity to paint as much as I would like.

I have a lot of drawings done on book pages. The local libraries throw out old books a couple of times a month. I grab them when I can and use them as sketchbooks. I’ve had mixed reviews, as people who love books simply cringe. To me, these books were going to be tossed in the garbage. I hate to read, but I love to draw, so why not give these books a purpose as well.

Pencils are cheaper than paint, so most of my art is drawn out.

So maybe we end on discussing what matters most to you and why?
Helpings others get through life and making people feel joy and hope. It helps me get through my struggles. I have learned so much just from talking with others. Things I have been able to utilize in my own healing.

My work transforms my inner pain and makes it beautiful. Expressing personal trials while finding the silver lining. It gives my pain a purpose.

Using the traumas I’ve faced for a lifetime, validates others and lifts them up. That is what makes my heart shine brightest. Watching others overcome their struggles. Knowing that they have a smile on their face and a renewed look on things. Seeing people thrive is the best feeling in the world.

I was tired of pain overshadowing the beauty in life… so I turned my pain into beauty.

Pricing:

• Prints go for $25-$45
• Paintings vary in price

Contact Info:

• Email: Ivydazy@gmail.com
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/IvyDazy/