An Educational Journey

My dad Arthur W. Owens introducing himself to a penguin, the Antarctic, late 60s

I was lucky. My father always supported my art studies and painting, hiring very good painting instructors for me from age 9 (the Baltimore-based Spanish neo-classical artist, Ceasar Villacres, and a series of lessons from the NY-based Dutch New Realism painter Roger Van Damm when I was 15). He challenged me to go to university and ‘prove myself,’ even when, for years, that wasn’t my plan at all. It was always a deep desire, but it took me until I was 47 to actually go back to university and give myself to it, complete my BA, then go on to an MA, an MPhil and a PhD, with all the graduate degrees from English universities (York and UCL). (I had heretofore only attended Jr. or Community College night classes while working a full-time job, although years later all the credits ended up being transferable to the University of Victoria, CA.)

I was always self-supporting, and until the scholarships and my Marie Curie PhD Fellowship kicked in, it was hard going. I worked part time and went to school full-time on student loans. My father’s goad was always there, at the back of my mind, driving me alongside my own natural drive for knowledge and recognition, and he was so proud when I’d got the MA. He died before seeing me get the rest, or my publications. He knew I was intelligent and thought I could do anything.

Encouragers along the way included Sylvia Skelton, who edited my pre-degree 2nd solo-authorship book, The Journey of the Bard, and rendered the comment that the study was worthy of a Masters degree — not to me, but to her daughter, Alison, my great friend and supporter, who told me about the comment right away — and I thought, “Ok then. Why not”? The other great proponent for the idea of me going to university was Georgia Nichols, the Vancouver-based astrologer, who holds a degree in film-making from Oxford, and told me she wanted ME to go to Oxford. (I tried, for my Ph.D., but they had no one who could advise me on my topic. The only one who could was the great art historian Joseph Leo Koerner at UCL, then the Courtauld Institute of Art in London, now Harvard, who became my mentor, supporter and friend, and who has very kindly written the Foreword for my book, ‘Abject Eroticism in Northern Renaissance Art,’ coming out from Bloomsbury on November 26th.)

I’d had a reading from Georgia for my 45th birthday, and she told me (probably based on my Mars in Scorpio and my Sun in the 8th House) that higher education and intensive research was my “sandbox.” She said it would be where I played best. When I enrolled at UVic two years later I called up her mum and asked her to tell Georgia that her advice had helped propel me back to school. Which made her mum proud of her. After I got my first masters degree, I was able to teach art history at the post-secondary level, which — next to being a writer — is my best use as a human this life, so…. No regrets.

--

--

--

I'm a writer/researcher/arts educator on Vancouver Island and all round global citizen who loves humans even though we're such a phenomenal pain-in-the-ass.

Love podcasts or audiobooks? Learn on the go with our new app.

Recommended from Medium

College Campuses Should Stay Closed

Knowledge and Competition

Looking Back on Module Numero Uno

Editor’s Pick: Cerebriti

Drug Use: Safety in Education

A Curriculum Architect Takes on K-2 Technology: Week 8

7 ways American campus life is different from Indian campus life

Have you ever wondered about such things.

Get the Medium app

A button that says 'Download on the App Store', and if clicked it will lead you to the iOS App store
A button that says 'Get it on, Google Play', and if clicked it will lead you to the Google Play store
Yvonne Owens, PhD

Yvonne Owens, PhD

I'm a writer/researcher/arts educator on Vancouver Island and all round global citizen who loves humans even though we're such a phenomenal pain-in-the-ass.

More from Medium

MENTAL MATTERS

Time for Poems

Theory Of Writing

Seeing Chickens In An Urban Setting Can Cure Depression