As I said last week, I’ve decided to take this month to focus on love. I want to remind myself, again, of everything that makes my heart happy, my soul refreshed and my body healthy.
Love is more than romantic love, it’s the feeling of connection, creation and dedication. Hopefully, it brings peace and joy. But it can also be challenging and sometimes it takes a brave heart and spirit.
This week’s love story is about art.
I wasn’t alway interested in art. Truth be told, once upon a time, I was a bookish nerd. I loved to read and one of my favorite places to go was the library. All those books! Those wonderful little drawers in the card catalog. Flipping through them to research a paper to me, was fun.
But what I realize now is those books, those words came alive in my mind. I didn’t just read a story, I saw it. The people. The clothes, food, trees, flowers in their world. Their homes and towns and, yes, attics.
Some of my very first art pieces were wooden boxes with a clay character, mask and, yes, a story. Then came paintings with landscapes and characters which I now realize are called ‘narrative’ paintings.
For the love of mud.
Another favorite childhood pastime: playing in the mud. Now, I get to throw it, roll it, cut it out and paint it. Not everything I throw or roll or paint turns out well. Things explode. Crack. Or get trimmed way too much, like last week’s bowl.
But I refuse to let failure stop me, so this week, I threw a few more bowls.
Sculpted some new ‘fairies’. Rolled out a raven or two.
Clay and words and colors, oh my.
Some loves never die.
I am still a big reader. And along the way, I added writing with a career in advertising. So I guess it’s not surprising that my clay always seems to need words along with symbols like hearts and spirals and leaves.
Even if it doesn’t always turn out perfect. Or get in a show. Or sell. That book-loving little girl, who liked to get her hands in mud, is still happily doing what she loves.
Everyday.
Anyway.
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