A New Season

A New Season

I never saw myself as being good enough to pursue painting.

I was told it was a useless talent since my role was to be a mother and how would painting help me raise children? 

There are a lot of artists in my family, many of them made their careers in art, but I wasn't supposed to have a career, I was supposed to be a mom.  My brother has an exceptional talent in art also; when I would finish a sketch that I felt was particularly good, I wanted to share it and when I did I was told things like "oh that's nice, you should go ask your brother for advice" or "maybe you could get some suggestions from your brother".  I signed up for an art class in high school but was told not to take the second course.  I slowly let the words of others convince me that I had no place in the world of art, so I gave it up and let myself forget how free it made me feel.

After I got married, my husband came across some of my work and tried to encourage me to draw again.  I didn't believe him, how could I? Everyone else told me I wasn't good enough and to put down the brush and be a mom. 

He spent years trying to deprogram this pattern of thought that had been created for me, he wanted me to see my worth and my potential which I had long forgotten. He encouraged me and supported me. He never told me what I should do or how it should be done. He only saw the best in me. He patiently waited for me to find myself.

I only wish I would have listened to him sooner.

 

My husband took a small trip recently and was gone on a Saturday and Sunday.  I woke up Sunday morning missing him and I thought of a grove of Aspen trees, which are his favorite.  I was surprised by my overwhelming desire to paint it... I wanted to... I WANTED to.  Nothing was going to keep me from doing it, so for the first time in over 10 years and, I broke out the paints and I awakened myself with the stokes of that brush.

I painted, I painted for him.

 

This painting is dedicated to the man who changed me

by not asking me to change.