Christmas and Holidays Cement important Relationships

(My son and his family at Thanksgiving)

My dad wanted a boy when I was born. It became obvious when for Christmas one year, I opened my Santa present and there was a small green and yellow caterpillar tractor. My dad worked for Caterpillar in those days, and had purchased one of their models. I guess he had no one to give a tractor to except me. I was so disappointed, but tried not to show it. I had abandoned my dolls, and was confused by this “boy toy."

When the gift exchanges were opened, and there were no other presents under the tree, I was listless and forlorn. My mother reached inside the topmost branches of the Christmas tree. “Well, what's this?” she said pulling a small wrapped package from its hiding place. She read the inscription aloud: “Merry Christmas, to Carol from Santa.” My mouth must have dropped open as she handed me this wonderful surprise. 

My fingers flew as I tore the wrapping from the box. Inside was the wrist watch I had wanted. Although this strange Christmas started out badly, it finished on a high note. I had always been told that “good things come in small packages.” Now I believed it.

(A walk in the hills of Georgia)

Memories, whether good or bad, accumulated over time become the foundation that builds character and provides a springboard for who we become. Our preferences and choices come from these early beginnings. Like bits and pieces of energy, they mold and shape our personality; our likes and dislikes.

When people view a painting, they are drawn to a composite of colors and lines that relate to their experience and inner vision. No two people are the same. No two paintings are exactly alike. There are “vibes” that call out to us in a myriad of ways. Some people seek excitement and brashness. Others may be seeking recognition of something familiar. Still others may long for something hidden and long forgotten that reaches out and calls them back home.

(Work in Progress -- Peaches 'n Cream)

Whatever the reasons, pushing a painting on someone else in a triumph of salesmanship rarely brings contentment. Choosing artwork is much like choosing those intimate objects of our lives that are selected because of some secret wish or longing. The feeling is indescribable and personal. Sometimes we can’t  explain the reasons ourselves. We only know that we must have it because it already feels a part of us.

Personal, unforgettable and totally unexplainable. These are the reasons people make the choices they do. Sometimes we do things for the wrong reasons and regret it later. For whatever reasons we may buy, it is not always about the money nor the beauty. The bottom line may be simply filling a void.

As I’ve watched people, including myself, accumulate goods and services, I’ve come to the conclusion that we fill up the emptiness of our lives with things. Not a good reason for purchasing something.

As we approach the holiday season, try accumulating pleasant and joyful experiences that become fond memories. These may well fill up those empty spaces just as well and for less money.

Finding your lost imagination

 

 “Use it or lose it” is an expression we’re all familiar with. We don’t always associate it with imagination, but it’s certainly true. We’re born with curiosity and imagination, but somewhere between adolescence and adulthood, we lose it.

Unless we allow ourselves to dream and fantasize throughout our lives, we risk becoming stodgy and stale; heaven forbid! A plunge into the realms of literature is a sure cure.

One of my favorite reads is the “The Little Prince” by Antoine De Saint-Exupery. Don’t let the 1943 copyright put you off. This classic still rings as true today as it did when it was written.

“Like a spoon full of sugar,” the pages melt on your tongue exuding words that recapture childhood fancy and wisdom. Once again, you become a child. You think like a child. You see like a child. Your observations become acutely aware of the foibles that being a “grown up” entails.

The simple drawings are lessons in and of themselves: “I showed the grown-ups my masterpiece," the little prince said, "and I asked them if my drawing scared them.” They answered, “Why be scared of a hat?”

“My drawing was not a picture of a hat. It was a picture of a boa constrictor digesting an elephant. Then I drew the inside of the boa constrictor, so the grown-ups could understand. They always need explanations….they advised me to put away my drawings and apply myself to geography, history, arithmetic, and grammar. That is why I abandoned, at the age if six, a magnificent career as an artist.”

My favorite part of the whole story is when the little prince meets a fox. He has never seen a fox before. “Come play with me,” the little prince proposed. “I’m feeling so sad.”

“I can’t play with you,” the fox said. “I’m not tamed.”

“What does tamed mean?”

“It’s something that’s been too often neglected,” said the fox. “It means, ‘to create ties’…”

“‘To create ties?’”

“That’s right,” the fox said. “For me you’re only a little boy just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you have no need of me, either. For you I’m only a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, we’ll need each other. You’ll be the only boy in the world for me. I’ll be the only fox in the world for you…”

By the time you finish reading this book, you're a child again on the brink of discovery. You become wise beyond your years. You grasp the meaning of relationships and the importance of simple things. You see things through the eyes of a child and your imagination is set free!

The next time you get stuck on empty and your creative juices are sluggish and slow, pick up a favorite book or a classic and restart your engines. For me it’s like a mini-vacation that inspires and refreshes. My perspective is altered; my enthusiasm is fired up, and I’m ready to meet the world head on.

Featured Artist
Lyn Olsen is a self-taught artist whose style is impressionistic and whose focus is on marine life, nature, and contemporary paintings. A link is posted below with a painting called “Silver Sailing.”

www.lynolsenart.com