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Many of you know that my father, Joe Gwizdak, was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s two years ago at age 86.  I watch my father struggle to remember the things that most of us take for granted – what day it is, the names of his great-grandchildren, something he just watched on TV or read in the newspaper, a sentence he just spoke, or one he just heard. It breaks my heart that he no longer can do the things that once gave him joy: wood-working, fixing just about anything, driving the car, working in the yard, attending church, volunteering at the museum at Gillespie Field. My dad was the “go to” guy in our family and in his neighborhood. He was always there to lend a hand. Need a door-knob fixed? Call Joe. Need shelves built, plumbing fixed, a tree cut down, drywall patched? Call Joe. Need a helping hand for anything – even at 2:00 a.m.? Call Joe.

But don’t feel sorry for my Dad. He is in many ways lucky. The progression of the disease seems to be slow. He can still do many things for himself, although some things take prodding, pushing and cajoling. He still enjoys the company of his family, and has not lost his sense of humor. Yes, he gets frustrated, especially when he remembers what he used to do. And he worries about being a burden. We tell him, “How can you be a burden, when gave so much to so many in your life?”  He worries especially about my mother, who at 85 is his primary caregiver.

One of my frustrations is being so far away – my family lives in the San Diego area; I am in Colorado. And although I try to get out there as often as possible, I know I cannot be of help in the day-to-day things. Luckily, my brother and sister-in-law live right around the corner from my parents. I must do what I can from afar. One of the things I can do is help raise the awareness of Alzheimer’s Disease, and help raise money to find a cure.

I am asking for your help. What can you do?

Learn the signs of Alzheimer’s Disease – early intervention may help slow down the process.

Sign the petition to ask President Obama to issue a strong National Alzheimer's Plan to help the millions of Americans now affected by Alzheimer's disease, and the many millions more at risk. 

With a family history of Alzheimer’s on my father’s side, the possibility of my getting the disease is very real. According to the Alzheimer’s Association, “an estimated 5.4 million Americans have AD, including approximately 200,000 age <65 years who comprise the younger-onset AD population. Over the coming decades, the aging of the baby boom generation is projected to result in an additional 10 million people with AD. Today, someone in America develops AD every 68 seconds. By 2050, there is expected to be one new case of AD every 33 seconds, or nearly a million new cases per year, and AD prevalence is projected to be 11 million to 16 million. Dramatic increases in the number of “oldest-old” (those age >85 years) across all racial and ethnic groups are expected to contribute to the increased prevalence of AD.”

For my father, for my family, for the 5.4 million people in the US with Alzheimer’s, I am dedicating my painting to finding a cure.  I am donating 25% of the proceeds from sales of my original artwork and prints to the Alzheimer’s Association. Later on this year I hope to have a one-woman show to help raise funds – more on that later as the details get worked out.  In the meantime, check out my website – I’ve added a new gallery of originals all under $200.

Sometimes the term, "it's complicated" is the best way to describe a relationship or a thought process. Sometimes we have to navigate through a tangled landscape of emotions before we can see the truth in a situation.

Lately, my life has been complicated, my time fragmented, my emotions vacillating between euphoria and despair. And if art mirrors life, you might be able to read a lot into my recent paintings. Between the calm serenity of “Winter’s Last Light” to the tumultuous tangle of “Complicated Bison” I sometimes feel like a ping-pong ball. Really, although I don’t have the condition, I can relate to those who are Bi-polar.

I’ve been playing around with the concept of seeing the patterns in randomness. As humans, we are hard-wired to do that – to look for repeating shapes, overall design; it’s how we make sense of the world around us.  These painting begin with a cacophony of calligraphic brush strokes applied vigorously, almost angrily, onto the canvas. It is sort of like diving into cold water versus going in one toe at a time. By painting quickly and without thought, I am able to become fully immersed in the moment. And if I find I’m in over my head – well, I better figure out how to swim!

Here’s a work-in-progress:

The "wild" stage done, I will now start the process of finding/creating patterns within the untamed wilderness.  If you look at my other abstract paintings, you can see how this concept is progressing – “If You Could Read My Mind,” “A Few of My Favorite Things” and “Elephant in the Room” all began quickly with random brushstrokes. I’ve also incorporated the tangles into more “representational” pieces like “The Mystic’s Dream” and “Fabled Fox” and even “Bear Dreams.”

Always evolving, always searching. "Pilgrim how you journey/on the road you chose/to find out why the winds die/and where the stories go." (Enya, "Pilgrim").