Thiis Artist’s Heart is at one with the Earth

"Sand Crane Dreams" acrylic on canvas

I was a tomboy growing up. I preferred monkey bars or playing cowboys and Indians to playing with dolls. When my mother couldn’t find me, I was usually up a tree, literally. I viewed every tree as a challenge that must be conquered.

My favorites were the mulberry trees that grew near our street. I’d straddle a branch and stuff my face with unwashed mulberries until their semi-tart taste had satisfied my sweet tooth. When someone walked beneath me, unaware of my presence, I felt all knowing and powerful.

From up here, I could see into adjoining yards. I knew who was home and who wasn’t. It was a hiding place where childish secrets could be discovered and shared later when the time was right. It also gave me space and time to ponder the wonders of the world and my place in it.

"Beach Buddies" mixed media on canvas

In those days I often ran around in my underpants, especially on hot summer days. Once while helping my mother with the ironing, I burned an elongated triangle on my mid-section. That was the last time I ironed without being fully clothed.

The next day, dressed in a sun top and a pair of shorts, the burn now covered with a still-wet scab, I climbed a wide-spreading oak tree. By this time my legs were so long it was easy to step from one branch to another and scale to the highest gnarled branches.

In the process of climbing, I scraped my midriff against the rough bark peeling back the scab and revealing a seeping red sore. The pain was excruciating. I scrambled down so fast I turned my ankle when I hit the ground running for comfort and a bandage.

(My daughter, Paula's, poster she created for her art classes)

I once scaled a tree so high I was afraid to come down. My mother’s younger sister scolded me at the foot of the tree and demanded I come down the same way I went up. Although we were close in age, she was my aunt, and she loved to Lord that over me. If I didn’t do what she said, she was sure to tattle to my mother.

I don’t know what happened to the girl I once was? Later in life, I was afraid of heights. I wonder now if the scolding’s and threats I received put a fear in me that I later associated with heights?

At any rate, as a teen I climbed to the top of a water tank and then was afraid to descend the ladder and come down. This was the first time in my life I’d been afraid of heights. Later, I cured my fears by rock climbing, repelling and experiencing a zip line. I discovered that as long as I focused on the cliff (or my goal), I was unafraid.

(The mountains where I grew up)

I continue to love nature in all of its splendor. There’s nothing like the freshness of pine mingled with the smells of frying bacon and potatoes or fresh caught fish on a crisp morning in the mountains. I celebrate still the wonder of God’s glory in every sunrise and sunset. I rejoice as an artist in the finite beauty and detail that I’m privileged to paint.

What I Learned Climbing Trees and Playing Jump Rope

"Hey, Coconut Mon" acrylic on canvas

When I was a child, I loved to climb trees. I could look down on passersby, but they couldn’t see me. It gave me a great sense of power. I felt larger than life. Today, this concept is given a grown-up term called the “big picture.” This overview or perception is essential in planning and setting goals.

Many of the things I needed to know in life, I learned as a child; take jump rope. I gained more than building coordination. I learned how to merge. Do you notice how many people simply don’t know how to do this with discretion?

There are the bullies who drive into traffic like a bat out of you-know- what, always expecting that an opening will be waiting automatically. Sometimes they make it, causing people like you and me to stomp on our brakes or swerve into dangerous congestion. Or they slam on their own brakes and wait. By the time an opening appears, their car is at a standstill.

Then there are the turtles, the terrified ones who creep up onto the ramp, afraid of whizzing cars and trucks. They don’t have enough speed to merge in, and so they wait with a trail of cars behind them. These are the people who, when they were kids, either never played jump rope, or were never good at it.

They were the ones who stood and watched the rope go around and around, and when the time was right, they stood there as immobile as slugs. If they finally found courage to jump in, they were so out of sync that they tripped on the rope – game over.

"Cattle grazing with egrets" 11 x 14 oil on archival canvas

It’s all about rhythm. There are signs that alert a jumper when the time is right: the tapping of the rope on pavement, the height of the rope when it’s time to jump in. It’s all about gut feel and the rhythms of life; moving when the time is right and taking turns.

I call it tact. Some people naturally have it. They must have been jump rope pros! They seem to know when to talk and when to keep their mouths shut.  They sense when another person is tense or angry. They are in tune with other people’s feelings and the rhythms and patterns of human speech and emotion. Unlike their opposing counterparts who blurt out insulting remarks without thinking. Tacky!

"Window on Pine Island" 16 x 20 oil on wrapped canvas

These tactless souls are the ones who swerve in and out of traffic without regard for anyone else’s safety. They are the shoppers who push past others waiting in line, crashing into them like bumper cars. They are impatient. They think having to wait is for wimps. Anger propels them. They don’t have time for games unless they can win. “What’s in it for me?” is the question that prefaces every action. They are bulldozers in human form.

You find out a lot about people by waiting in lines and driving down the highway. You find out who knows when to merge and who doesn’t. And you discover discourteous people who refuse to move left, even when they can, to allow someone else to enter the highway. I swear these people never jumped rope.

"Fish Market" acrylic on 18 x 24 canvas

If I had my way, jump rope would be a part of every Drivers Ed. Class; maybe even part of college preparatory education or on-the-job training.  Who knows, there might be fewer accidents on the road and more teamwork on the job. But that’s just my opinion. What’s yours?