A Journey of Art

​We began a mutual exploration of art as soon as we moved in together. Stuck in a third-floor apartment with a spectacular view, I was painfully aware that we weren’t destined to stay in that apartment. I felt the pull to leave as soon as I moved in. I wanted to take it with me when we went, so I asked Paul to paint the view. Our view was of the Rumsey Island waterways that flowed in from the Chesapeake Bay. Next to the shore was the community pool. It was truly a lovely view.  So with that, we both began to paint.

First came the view painted by Paul. Then came the blood moon painted by me. Back and forth we painted endless canvases and passed the artwork out into the community as fast as our brushes could move. I donated a painting of the library to the library I would one day teach sewing. It hangs on the wall there.
 
My first sale was a private sale which took me by surprise. I didn’t start painting to sell my work. My personal reasons had more to do with trauma, healing and a need to explore color for a season. I had immersed myself in all things art for a season. Previously I had explored art through music, gardening and baking. I loved playing with sugar and making it look dazzling. I hadn’t really played with colors on canvas and I didn’t understand the nature of painting.
 
This was my study session, my practice piece. This was the craft of pulling a vision from my brain, grabbing tubes of color and making them somehow match in a tangible way. It was like birthing a vision. Most things that I painted was while looking at a guide image. Or seeing a vision that struck a chord within me and to translate it to canvas in an appealing way. When the offer came, I was stunned. I had no idea my worth. What was my time worth to me? How long had I thought about it? How long had I mulled the vision in my head over and over until I had no other choice but to regurgitate it onto a canvas until it haunted me no more.  It didn’t take long to create. Creating isn’t even the difficult part. The difficult part is the vision. But once the vision is solid, the paint, brushes and inspiration just sort of take over. What exactly is that worth? I couldn’t even begin to guess. I settled on a sum that felt “not greedy” but would fit into my budget without feeling as though I’d suffered a loss. I do not feel as though I suffered a loss selling it. As a matter of fact, the opposite. I feel like it was set free.

Fast forward to now and we are back to painting once more. This winter gifted us a lovely opportunity to take our art into public. And it had a little lifting effect. We prepared a piece to take with us to finish while we displayed at a local vendor show. We even prelisted it for sale here before we left in case anyone was haunting us secretly just waiting to buy our art. LOL Anyway, on our way out the door I grabbed the Santa hat and when Paul sat down to paint, I slipped it over his glorious silver hair. He was known as the “Painter in the Santa hat”. The local paper paid a visit to our booth and by Thursday, pictures of Paul the Painter were being passed around online. 

Since we reintroduced the palette and easel back into our world life has been just a little more colorful. Jokes are funnier, brownies chocolatier, kitties softer and the kisses a little sweeter.  It’s amazing what a couple of tube of color and some brushes can do when building a new world. To my fellow artists, aspiring artists and hesitant painters I say… Pick up a brush, get some tubes of color. It’s time to start squishing!