Tricia-Andrews

Remi Chew: Coping & Creativity

by Patricia Andrews

  Sitting upright in his chair Remi knots his eyebrows as he thinks. His fingers rest in his bushy red beard and concentration rests in his wide blue eyes. Tall and fair-skinned, his tousled hair and wrinkles in his clothes betray his khaki pants and button-up shirt. The low whirring and rattling of the air conditioner fills the silence while the idea he was searching for seems to untie his knotted eyebrows and narrow in his eyes. His posture is still, but his hands are active as he speaks. Trying to describe his mind in his worse stages of Schizophrenia Remi says,  “When I was broken before, it was like throwing a stone at a piece of glass and breaking like a mirror, the inward reality no longer reflecting the outer reality. So, I took a blowtorch to the mirror and melted all the pieces back together. It may not all come back the same way, but it’s about the same thing.” Schizophrenia literally means  “to split the mind,” so the imagery of broken glass is fairly accurate. For 37-year-old Remi Chew, creativity has always been the blowtorch that puts the pieces back together again and helps him cope with struggles that he felt otherwise unbearable. Remi’s creativity began with stories that bubbled out of his vibrant imagination as a child. A slight hand tremor and dyslexia made the act of writing a serious undertaking for Remi. “I could tell how much he cared about his stories because he would suffer the writing just to get them down,” says Remi’s mother Ann Ellis. Remi’s passion for creativity led him to art.

Tubes of paint, stencils, fabrics, glue, brushes, scissors, pencils, and other creative materials touch every surface in Remi’s apartment. The trappings of an artist fill each drawer and closet. On the wall hangs his most recently completed piece, a bright red piece of cotton fabric filled with patterns and shapes in vibrant colors of acrylic paint. Remi’s room, like his thoughts, can be somewhat scattered, but in his painting on the wall there is no confusion, no clutter and no discord. One might expect the art of someone with a mental disability like schizophrenia to be abstract, chaotic or surreal. But in Remi’s art the most salient features are order, symmetry, balance, control, purpose, and cooperation. “Cooperation is the most important part of my art,” says Remi. No matter how confused, or dissonant his mind may feel, when Remi paints he can create a space of harmony and coherence. He is in control and can organize the shapes and colors with purpose and balance. For those suffering from shizophrenia, the ability to create tangible order through painting patterns is soothing, says art therapist Catherine Jonsson. Organizing the elements on the canvas can be calming for someone whose mental processes are sick with disorganized intangible thoughts. Jonsson observes that Remi’s style bears some typical characteristics of art created by people who suffer from schizophrenia. “But it’s lighter,” she says, “more organized, and much happier.” The dark, or sometimes disturbing art produced by some schizophrenic artists would never suit Remi. Anyone who knows Remi knows his boisterous laugh and his kind smile. Some people with mental disorders undergoing art therapy find it difficult, painful even to do something so “intrusive” to their inner self as art, says Jonsson. Remi however, relishes in the ability to express himself through art. “My love is my art. My hopes and dreams are my art… it defines something within me that I can’t express,” says Remi. The patterns painted onto the red fabric hanging on his wall take the shape of mandalas. In psychoanalysis, mandalas represent a search for completeness and self-unity, and in each mandala that Remi paints he continues to seek that “wholeness.” Creativity helps Remi make sense of his world, especially when the world doesn’t make sense for Remi. The cruel senseless actions of his peers during his adolescence proved too much for Remi’s fragile emotions and psyche.

When Remi was in high school, a boy named Bobby with a behavioral disorder made it his personal mission to torment Remi. One day Bobby came up behind Remi, and without warning or explanation threw him violently into a brick wall. Fortunately, Coach Harris came to Remi’s rescue, as David Calmen Remi’s childhood friend recalls. “I was called names, teased, hurt, abused and walked-on,” says Remi. Too young to process the harmful actions of his classmates, Remi says he felt “worthless and lower and the lowest.” The pain he faced in reality tempted him to dwell somewhere other than reality. He says the mistreatment from his peers made him think to himself, “Don’t deal with the world. Don’t deal with people your age. They’re going to hurt you no matter what you do. They’re going to mentally abuse you and take advantage of you. They’re going to hurt you any way they can.” Remi needed an escape and his creativity provided Whistling Stiles.

Whistling Stiles is about six feet tall, resembles John Wayne in his 1960s western attire, wears a gun-belt armed with twin pearl-handled six-shooters with his sheriff badge, can shoot a flea from a million miles away, and was created in the childhood imagination of Remi Chew. At a young age, Remi had problems trying to process painful experiences and feelings that he couldn’t understand. Unable to make sense of it, he created characters that “governed his emotions.” When reason failed in his young mind, imagination helped him cope. “When my spirit was broken, my characters took care of perspectives of reality that I couldn’t deal with,” says Remi. At a time in Remi’s life when he couldn’t make sense of injustice, Whistling Stiles maintained justice. When Remi felt afraid, sad or vulnerable, other characters were created in order to protect, cheer, or conquer. He loved to give his characters special powers so that he could feel safe, says Ann. Lord Fear could help Remi be brave and the dancing duck could help Remi laugh.  “My characters were burden sharers. Like a donkey, I could unload the heavy burden onto them and then guide them while I carried a lighter load,” he says. Remi’s main hero, Argon, changed many times depending on the burden Remi needed him to carry. But more importantly, Remi could always depend on Argon for adventure because he was always getting into trouble and barely scraping out of it, says Remi.

In elementary school, Remi’s imaginative adventures made him a fun recess partner. “We had a great time because Remi had the most creative imagination in the world,” says David. Remi and David met in the fourth grade special education class at the David C. Barrow Elementary School in Athens, Georgia and have been friends ever since. “Remi is like the brother I never had,” says David. Both suffering from mental disorders, they can understand and support one another in a special way, sticking through the adventures and the struggles. David suffers from bipolar disorder, which like schizophrenia shows a significantly high rate of suicides. When Remi had a breakdown at the age of sixteen and tried to commit suicide, David was there for him. “He tried drinking rubbing alcohol. I went to just be with him, ya know…brought him some Chinese food,” says David. Remi was also there for David during his own low-points. In 2005, David’s girlfriend left him on the Fourth of July as he was still recovering from a gall bladder surgery. Concerned by David’s suicidal state, Remi took him to the hospital and stayed with him. Years later, they remain each other’s support and best friends.

Remi and David also remain friends with their former special education teacher, Nancy Conger, a testament to the impact teacher and pupil made on one another. Although Remi struggled academically, he always figured out a way to work the system, says Nancy. “Creativity was the lens that he used to find a bright place to work his way through or around obstacles,” she says. As an adult with schizophrenia living independently, Remi has already overcome the odds. “The majority of people with schizophrenia live in group homes, jails, hospitals, or with family members,” says Jonsson, “so it is quite an accomplishment for Remi to be living on his own.” With the help of medication and therapy, Remi no longer depends on his characters or alternate realities for peace, but he still relies on his art and creativity to sooth his mind and overcome obstacles. “You’re only limited if you limit yourself,” he says. And Remi’s creativity knows no limits.

Beaming with pride as he flips through his variety of certificates for various achievements, and giving special attention to an award given by the University of Georgia during an exhibit for artists with disabilities that was accompanied by a cash prize. Remi is willing to part with his art for the right price, offering several of his completed works for sale online through the Athens Mental Health Group. But some pieces are created for specific people, like those he painted for his mother and grandmother. Remi pours his time and affection into everything creates, but feels no pressure to plan too far ahead. Remi takes each day one at a time, and many days have passed since Remi felt like his mind was broken. Occupying himself with his artwork, Remi finds peace through his creativity.

All of the pieces are in place and the picture is complete, so Remi carefully spreads glue across the back surface of a large, complicated puzzle to ready it for display. Using a small piece of cardboard with a flat edge, he smooths the glue out evenly like he’s buttering toast. A concentrated expression works on his face while he aligns the mounting and presses it in place. He flips over the puzzle to see his finished work, and then reclines back into his chair wearing a satisfied grin. Remi is blowtorching the pieces together again.