1 May

Letter From North Carolina: A Life Of Love, Joy, Passion, Creativity

by Jon Katz
Letter From North Carolina
Letter From North Carolina

The creative life is not one single thing but many things, with so many paths and twists and turns. It doesn’t just mean being a writer or an or a poet, it means finding your bliss, following your heart to the thing that you love and honoring the creative spark within. It means living in the joy of creation and connection. This is what Heather Levitt has achieved on her hero journey.

Heather was kind and thoughtful enough  to write me in my post office box about the very meaningful life she has put together after much soul-searching and honesty and trial.  She has found her art. There is an artist in almost everyone – I call it the Creative Spark – and some of the bravest heroes in the world struggle and search and suffer until they find it, the true artists never give up.

Heather Leavitt, a hairdresser in rural North Carolina, is one of those people.

“I have composed this letter to you, in my head, many times, over many years,” she wrote me in a letter to my Post Office Box, P.O. Box 205, Cambridge, N.Y., 12816. “I want to tell you what you and  your work mean to me. And I want to thank you.” A humbling letter,  Heather has no one to thank but herself, I have done nothing for her. If my life or work inspired her in any way, then what I do is worthwhile and has meaning and joy.

Heather’s story came to me in  the form of a typewritten letter from Waxhaw, N.C. My P.O. Box is always filled with treasures – letters, photos, stuffed dogs, old postcards, $20 bills,  tattered books.  This letter was one of those jewels, I read it to Maria at lunch, we were both so moved by it. Heather has a touching and very beautiful message. For much of her life, she said, she could not align her gifts and dreams with her work.  No matter what people thought she could do or become, she did not believe any of them.

She tried a lot of things, suffered many things, explored things – many to do with the beauty business and with sales. And other things to feed her creative spirit, unfulfilled and yearning to be free. She took classes for oil painting, water color painting, sewing, calligraphy, pottery, creative writing, sewing several times. As she struggled to work through some of the challenges in her life, she came to realize that after 18 years of searching  the one thing she had wanted to do for nearly 20 years, since her kids were young,  was be a hairdresser.

“But I didn’t do it,” she wrote. “I had a million reasons not to go to hair school over the years — too far, too expensive, I’m too old, our kids are too young, the classmates are too young. And then I realized that as I got older I saw that time gets thin. And as my youngest was in his last year of high school, I went to Hair School. I was 48 turning 49 and the other students were 18-30.

After so many years of soul searching, she wrote, she realized what she really wanted to do was communicate with people in a genuine way. “And I wanted to get my hands in people’s hair…always.” Heather found the combination of chatting and sharing and getting to know people meaning beyond what she had imagined. “I learn all about the places they have visited, the books they have read, the jobs they do, the dogs they love, the bargains they get, the losses they have endured, the career paths they have taken, the husbands they care for, the financial hardships they face.

Heather, I think, is a people whisperer, a communicator, she wants to hear the stories of the world, a rare and wonderful gift. A hair dresser’s chair is better for it than almost anything. I admire her, it takes so much strength and determination to come to this place, it is a hard thing to do. She ought to be proud of herself, I am proud of her.

Along with this deep satisfaction in her work has come this feeling, she writes,  that “I know you will understand. And I tell my customers this: “I feel like I am doing ART!.” And so she is.

“I feel such deep satisfaction. I have no desire to be a platform artist or have my work appear in fashion magazines. I don’t even have the desire to work at a fancy salon. I don’t want the demands and stress of uptight, entitled customers. I want to stay her and serve the hard working people who need a $13 haircut. They are infinitely more interesting than people who are getting Botox, carrying Louis Vuitton bags, and ordering hair extensions.”

What a wise and wonderful person Heather must be, she has worked so hard to find her place in the world, and it was not luck, or my words, it was hard work and determination. Some people will not rest until the artist in them gets to breathe. I was one, Maria another, Heather yet one more. She is as much an artist as Picasso, she is making art in the purest sense of the term, it is not about what others say art is, it is about what we feel art is inside of us.

“I have heeded the call to the creative life,” she wrote me, “and I am so thankful. I am proud of myself. My confidence, skills and abilities have grown and I am truly, truly contented.” She says in her letter that she has learned to be strong, fearless, energetic, to live a big life, to never give up, to encourage others, to believe in herself, to re-invent herself, to try and try again, to note be prideful, to take responsibility for her own life.

“Here I am, about to turn 50,” she says at the end of her very beautiful letter, “and I have finally created a work  life that fills me with joy and passion and creativity. And that is life enough for me.”

Me, too, Heather, me too. Congratulations to you, and much gratitude for taking to trouble to share your inspiring story, your parable of life. And what a gift to me that she would share this triumph with me. It is the point of me, of my work, of my life and love. I think anyone near Waxhaw, North Carolina would be well serve to go and get a haircut from Heather, I bet she is easy to find. Somebody who loves the stories of people that much has to be known. She even offered me a senior discount. I might accept that one.

 

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