Remodeling Blues have put a Crimp in my Plans

"Arabesque" oil on canvas

My husband and I decided that putting new cabinets in the kitchen and vanities/sinks in the bathroom was a must this year. The original woodwork was a slapdash effort by the builder 20 years ago to come in under budget and on deadline. We were not aware of this until my husband put storage cabinets in our garage and discovered that the inexpensive white laminates sold by Home Depot were the exact same ones as in our kitchen and bathrooms.

Our project was supposed to start one week ago, and we’re still waiting. Living out of suitcases and boxes is much like camping out. We’ve also been eating a lot of T.V. dinners and dining out. Finding space and time to paint has been difficult.

I appreciate the inspiration I continue to glean from all of you, and from the late Robert Genn and his daughter Sara who keeps up their traditional newsletter. These two quotes were my favorites:

"Where you struggle, there lies your treasure." (Joseph Campbell)

Think about this! The things you work the hardest for are usually worth more to you than the simple enjoyable pleasures that last only a short time. Trying to master a new skill, a new language, or working on a relationship that you recognize as important is worth the effort and the tears because the final product or result will be priceless!

Where does your treasure lie? What do you put the most time into? When you’re finished, will you be a stronger and better person than before? This is a good measuring stick or criteria from which to build. “Where you struggle, there lies your treasure.”

"Release -- my Trail of Tears" mixed media on canvas

I devoted one of my paintings to Campbell for this quote: “Art is the Set of Wings to carry you out of your own entanglement.” The painting: “Release – my Trail of Tears” was a real metamorphose of color and emotion for me. My son had given me "A Joseph Campbell Companion" several years ago, and the quotes are profound and stick in your mind.

Here’s another beauty: "What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the master calls a butterfly." (Richard Bach)

When we fail, we see it as a disaster. Like the caterpillar, we may think our life, our career, our romance is over. But if we’re patient, if we’re willing to try again, we may discover something new and wonderful! A fragile butterfly may emerge from the ashes of our defeat and lift us into new spheres of possibility. 

I’ve had to face a lot of obstacles recently. My career has been in a slump and one crisis has replaced another in my efforts to gain a foothold. Life may slow me down, but I will not be deterred. How about you?

"The Perfect Ending" acrylic on canvas

A Teacher’s Influence may Last Forever

Amaryllis in candy cane stripes
(original photo)

You may have read about my grandfather in my biography, but to know the man was to love him. He had more granddaughters than grandsons and he made each one of us feel important.

For decades, he was a sixth grade teacher who had an influence on the entire community and on the cities and towns wherever he taught. When he died, his funeral was crowded with former students and teachers who knew him well and remembered him fondly.

As our grandfather, he made us feel special, and we wanted to please him. He admired his granddaughter's shiny bouncy ringlets. We would quicken our steps when he was nearby so our curls would bob even harder.

Hibiscus Glory - oil on canvas

Grandpa helped us practice perfect posture by placing books on our heads as we walked to keep our spines straight and strong. Even now when I catch a glimpse of myself with shoulders slumped, grandpa whispers in my ear reminding me to pull my shoulders back and stand up straight.

His love of the dance made winter days indoors a fest of delight, at least for most of us. We learned “The Hokey Pokey,” the “Grand Right and Left” and any other music that not only stressed rhythm but self control and coordination. He helped prepare dance festivals for schools and churches that were performed on a nearby football field. “Peter Cotton Tail” was one I remember, and dancing the Maypole with hundreds of dancers and poles scattered across the field with a myriad of bright costumes and multi-colored streamers.

Blending In" -- Acrylic on canvas

Having a male teacher who enjoyed dancing kept the boys in line. Some of them even enjoyed the experience. When it came to biology, grandfather’s first love, the boys witnessed his tough side. He loved spiders and snakes and made them a part of our curriculum. We handled them, learned how vital they were to the ecosystem, and lost our fear as we got to know and understand them better.

Acrylic under painting -- work-in-progress

One Fall we gathered monarch caterpillars from the milkweed plants outside our school yard and placed them in glass canning jars. We fed them and watched each of them form a chrysalis. When Spring arrived, we observed their struggle to break out and dry off their fragile wet wings. Grandfather allowed the butterflies to flutter freely about our classroom, but most of them flew to the windows bouncing against the glass until they grew tired.

Finally, they settled on the window ledge letting us approach them if we wanted to and curiously crawling up our hands and arms with their tickly prickly feet. During recess, we fed them sugar water from jar lids. I’ll never forget the wonder of watching an orange and black butterfly sit on my palm and unroll its long proboscis to drink the life-giving water.

"Moody Blues" -- oil on canvas

When the time came for their release, we opened up the windows and our butterflies flew to freedom. We yearned to bring them back as they fluttered upward tinting the sky with orange. We would never be the same.