I Don't Know Why It's a Challenge

Growing up, it was clear that I had some artistic talent. I came by it honestly, as my mom was an artist. Fortunately, she was also a teacher, and so she knew how to nurture creativity in me, and unlike some parents (including my dad, sad to say) who may have viewed art as a somewhat worthless pursuit, she encouraged me to pursue my drive and ability for drawing and sketching right up through sending me to art school for college. There was never any question of who I was and what I was going to be.

However, although I had had a full head of steam regarding the production of art as a kid, filling up the margins of my school paper and literally stacks of notebooks with my drawings, the older I got, and the better I got, I mysteriously stopped being nearly as productive. In college, I produced work as assigned, but I was a bit slack about working on it out of the classroom, unless a grade deadline loomed. I did, at least, contribute a decent amount to my sketchbook.

But by the time I graduated, I didn't choose to enter the art field, despite my having done quite well at my internship and my school's having a great placement program. I felt that having the pressure to create every day--for some soulless ad agency, no doubt--would take all the joy out of it. I might have been right, but as I entered a succession of service-industry jobs, I didn't spend much of my spare time indulging in that joy.

I find myself filling my spare time with non-productive (and even counter-productive) things like watching television or playing video games. I make time to hang out with friends or check my social media accounts, and I do write (and I also don't do that as often as I'd like or feel I should, although the very high number of blogs out there that had a flurry of posts at the beginning and then went completely dark would indicate I'm certainly not alone). But why don't I make time to create art? I managed to do three whole drawings for Inktober's 31 days, even though, as a kid, I would empty ball point pens with regularity.

When I see artists at work, I watch with fascination, just as people watch with fascination to see me at work (with this in mind, I have sometimes taken a sketch pad to a public space just to entertain folks and keep myself motivated, but I don't do that often enough). I feel inspired by them, and awfully jealous that they seem to have that drive that I have found lacking in myself. Just to get some sort of "art" going, I will sometimes fill in designs in those popular coloring books for adults. It's fun, but I always feel a little ashamed, thinking I should be producing those designs, not just filling them in. I have the ability, after all.

I do know this--once I get started, I can go for a good bit, just like I've done in writing this article. But what do I need to get me started? And why do I need it?



Image of something cool that I colored in but didn't draw, so kinda yay.

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The Art of Giving and the Giving of Art

Some years ago, I experienced what everyone dreads: the loss of my mother, to cancer. It was a horribly painful experience for my family, but it had its positive side: The most important things in life, love and family, were brought back into focus, drawing us together. My older sister and I, borderline workaholics, left our jobs in North Carolina in the dust to come to my mother's side in West Virginia. My sister-in-law devoted a great deal of her time to care for Mom's personal needs. My father, always a loving husband, provided 24-hour care for Mom that displayed the immense depth of his devotion. Our daily cares and travails were completely insignificant in the face of this situation. We were needed to take care of the person who gave us life, love and support, and who made us who we are.

One of the things my mother made me is an artist. I was incredibly fortunate not only to inherit the special gift for art that she had, but also to have her support and expertise to help me develop it. Anyone who knew my mom knew that she would always help whenever she could, and one of the things for which she was most sought after was her creativity. She contributed artistic flourishes to many a church or social organization's project, giving many hours of her time and talent for free or for the cost of materials only. She has produced beautiful sculpture and murals that have been seen by thousands of people and that will survive as a monument to her love of art and her generosity of spirit.

This has, of course, made a great impression on me. I feel as though she has passed along a wonderful gift to me, and I would love to make the kind of positive contributions to society that Mom has made. Even though she has passed on to her next adventure, she has given us her art by which we can remember her goodness and her lifelong practice of the art of giving.

We should never miss an opportunity to draw close to our loved ones, to reaffirm our dream of peace on Earth and love among all creatures. We practice the art of giving, not only of presents on birthdays and holidays, but also of our hopes and dreams to the next generation, of our charity and care to those less fortunate, and hopefully, we can fulfill our purpose on Earth by doing something to improve our world. Not everyone is an artist, but we all have some special gift to bestow, and the art of giving is the highest measure of humanity.

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I Make People Cry, and I Like It

I have made dozens of people cry in my lifetime and felt really good about it. Felt proud, as a matter of fact. Many of them were total strangers, but some of them were friends, and some were even people in my own family. I've made my sisters cry, my dad cry, and even my brother-in-law. Made 'em all cry, and it was wonderful.

What am I, some kind of sadist? How come I like making people cry?

Well, what I am is actually a portrait artist, and what makes people cry is joy. The joy of seeing a beloved family member or pet who has passed away immortalized in a piece of art, to live on forever in a way that a photograph can't really capture. I've done many memorial portraits over the years, and I have had the joy of presenting people with them and being there when they get struck by that sweet pain that causes happy tears to cover and soothe the feeling of loss. I consider it a wonderful honor to be able to do this.

So yes, it brings me a lot of joy to make people cry!

Image is my own artwork

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