Memories & Influences: A Reflection of Taylor Thomas Wellman '08

1/30/2024

by Taylor (Thomas) Wellman '08

Taylor Thomas Wellman, a member of the inaugural Class of 2008, reflects upon her time as a member of that enterprising first class.

Being a member of the first graduating class of the High School was both empowering and intimidating. It was our own mashup—part high school playground, part academic pressure cooker, and part performative experiment. During my time at the High School, I developed a strong sense of self-sufficiency, which has continued to carry me through various aspects of my life and career. I learned how to communicate effectively from years of sitting around the Harkness tables, processing and verbalizing my ideas while also actively listening to and engaging with my peers.

The Harkness table encouraged collaboration as much as it did introspection—two skills I continue to draw upon in my art practice and career today. In the studio, I generate images based on my internal exploration of emotions, questions, and doubts. Translating and presenting those works to an external audience becomes a highly collaborative act. Whether I’m in dialogue with curators, collectors, journalists, students, or other artists, I’m relying on the important balance between pouring out (speaking/expressing) and taking in (hearing/digesting). There is rarely an end-all-be-all concept or statement with art, so instead, I focus on contributing to an evolving, collective conversation.

In the early days of the High School, before the soccer fields and cross-country loops were fully developed, I recall a vivid memory of adventuring down with friends to the creek that ran through campus. It was on a rare afternoon that we didn't have a practice to get to, so instead, we spent time trudging through the mud, sharing stories, and goofing around without a care in the world. A lot of my high school experience involved learning how to be an adult, but that was one moment when I fully embraced the opportunity to still be a kid.

I have a hard time finding this type of presence anywhere but the studio these days. During my painting process, I inhabit the kind of careless joy, experimentation, and timelessness I did in that fleeting memory. There’s something about being alone, surrounded by canvases and strewn materials, that allows me to tap into gestural movement and full acceptance of self. Five minutes somehow turns into five hours when I’m painting, and five hours feels like the blink of an eye.

I have fond memories of my teachers who encouraged me and helped shape me as a student, friend, and individual. Three women, in particular, stood out as mentors whom I still cherish to this day. My high school English teacher, Varina Willse, first captured my attention through a William Wordsworth poem, and I've admired the way she evokes purpose, pause, and inquiry through words since. She was one of the first women to wow me with her creativity and push me to embrace my mind and voice. She taught me to hang onto the words of poets as if there were treasures within them if only I dived deep enough. Even to this day, that sense of pondering and searching still translates through my painting practice.

Laura Stewart, better known as Coach Laura or "CL" back in the day, single-handedly led me through four years of high school as my biggest supporter—on the field, off the field, in my toughest moments, and in my proudest. Her hope for students continues to extend further than the college they select, and it certainly made an impact in my case. Laura helped me identify the difference between finding the most impressive fit versus finding the right fit when it came to college. She knew how I wanted to flourish in the world as much as she knew how I performed on paper. That was key. When it came to my choice, I was able to land on Davidson College — a place that was small enough for me to feel known, challenging enough for me to grow, and creative enough for me to test out various avenues. I still remember the trip I took with Laura to see Davidson for the first time — I don’t think I would have been able to make my decision without that exposure and encouragement.

Rebekah Capps Armstrong, lovingly known as Reebs, was also someone I always found in the college counseling office, with a character and light radiating well beyond those walls. She exemplified what it looked like to care for others well and consider a different perspective than my own. Talk about a life lesson that has continued to carry over into my profession.

From my earliest studio days to grad school to now, I have constantly been challenged to examine varying visual and conceptual perspectives. To solidify (and continue identifying) my artistic style and voice, I learn from artists who bring alternative approaches and ideas to life. It’s not just about accepting one another’s differences but celebrating them. That’s what keeps things interesting — we are all so uniquely wired. I hope those three women know just how much they meant to me back then and how they've inspired the person I have become.

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