The Key to Shared Laughter is its Direction

"A Joyful Heart" 11x14 pastel, matted and ready to frame

We all love to laugh. It’s healthy. It feels good. Medical professionals recommend it as “the best medicine” in the world; but that depends entirely on where your laughter is directed and on whom.

None of us likes to be “laughed at.” In fact, most of us cringe and recoil when we’re the brunt of someone else's joke. Poking fun of others is another form of bullying. The difference between healthy laughter and aggressive hee-haws is the purpose behind each.

When we laugh together at the same thing that is shared fun we both enjoy. When I laugh at you and watch you squirm, I’m not only making you uncomfortable, I’m pushing you away. This kind of laughter diminishes both of us. You become a victim. I become a heel.

Sensitivity to someone else’s feelings should warn us when we’ve crossed the line. It’s never too late to realize bad taste, even in ourselves. Shared laughter brings us together and bonds our friendship. At the very least, it makes us feel good to be human beings. Finding humor in life or in the awkward situations we find ourselves in may ease the tension in a difficult situation.

"With these Hands -- Hope" mixed media (acrylic underpainting; oil on center of interest)

Laughter can smooth ruffled feathers and ease the pain of embarrassment. A giggle or two at the appropriate time says “I forgive you. Hey, it could have been me!”

I’ll never forget standing in a movie theater lobby with my husband. Everyone nearby was laughing at this guy who tromped from the restroom into our group trailing toilet paper. The more we laughed, the funnier it became. I was nearly doubled over, and a darned good thing. Looking downward I discovered a few sheets of tissue stuck to my own shoe. If you think we were laughing hard at that point, you should have heard us after this discovery!

A person who can laugh at themselves really has it made. They rarely take their petty grievances out on others. They are everybody’s friend. Joy is written on their face. These are the portraits I want to capture and the main reason I love to paint. My Artist Statement declares:

“Thanks to my grandfather, a biologist and teacher; my uncle, a former professor of entomology at Berkeley; and my father, a fly fisherman of great renown; I was born an environmentalist, a lover of nature and of God’s remarkable handiwork.

"I believe there is spirit, voice, and emotion even in inanimate objects, but especially in living things. I envision each object, each life force speaking out – no, shouting out to me. I try to portray nature as honestly and beautifully as I see it. Sometimes I exaggerate color and movement so others may share what my inner life sees and feels. I have a vivid imagination.

"With these Hands -- Wonder"  mixed media (acrylic underpainting, oils on center of interest)

"Portraits are a favorite of mine. The slightest crinkle in a nose or the twinkle in an eye can tell volume’s about a person’s personality. Faces are complex; as varied as the flowers in springtime, as deep as the roots of a tree or the depth of an ocean. I hope viewers will experience joy when they look at my paintings.”

I started painting in oils, but chose acrylics because there was no smell and you don’t need turpentine. I had a mishap where the mineral spirits ate through the plastic container it was stored in and trickled over the floor soaking my rug before it seeped into my storage area. That was a real turnoff!

But after watching Vladimir Volegov paint in “quick time” on YouTube, I’m having second thoughts about oils. Volegov is a master of color, light, and of blocking in shapes as quickly as possible. Every stroke counts! 

I hope you enjoy the following links: 

Liza and Cat   http://youtu.be/uQCTrSRcplI?list=UU2ZhayntpSMLKJL-weD6oHg

Girl at Rest

Here is another favorite artist: Ritch Gaiti with his ethereal Native American paintings of “another time, another place”:

“I Stand at the Door and Knock;” Every Salesman’s Nightmare

"Broken Hearted" pastel on bristol 9x12

When I was 10 years old, my friend and I were trying to shake a young pest named Ruthie. She was half our size and followed us everywhere, dragging a teddy bear behind her. In our attempts to shake her, we ran headlong into a field of scratchy hay stubble. Ruthie followed us, anyway.

Out of breath, we stopped beside a rotting shed that looked like it was on the verge of collapse. When Ruthie caught up with us, we shoved her inside. She pulled the teddy to her frightened face; her blonde ringlets cascading like a waterfall over the bear’s fuzzy body.

My friend banged the door shut, and we leaned against it, waiting for the screams of desperation from within. We felt powerful and sinister. At first, the silence startled us. Why wasn’t Ruthie yelling at us, pleading for us to open the door? Her silence seemed to grow like a dark menacing cloud ready to pounce. We flung the door wide.

I plan to paint this glass jar of flowers. Loved the shadow on the table!

The bright sunlight lit up Ruthie’s wet, tear-stained face making her squint. She seemed to shrink before our eyes; appearing smaller than we remembered. A second shaft of light fell on the floor beside her where a dead rat sprawled among soiled rags and rusting tools. Feeling our cruelty in the pit of our stomachs, we fled across the field, leaving Ruthie far behind us.

As a young mother, I sold cosmetics door to door. I never got used to being rebuffed, and dreaded ringing that bell or making that first knock. “What’s behind door number one?” I joked to myself, trying to turn trepidation into adventure? 

A favorite scene I may paint yet!

In sales, you hear terms like the “door of opportunity,” or when “one door closes, another one opens.” Doors do play a significant role in our lives, whether in selling or working to provide a service or a product. In one of my crossword puzzles, the clue was: “Means of access.” The four letter answer was “door.” What is your current “means of access” to opportunity?