I got up on Mother’s Day, went downstairs to make the coffee, and was greeted by a card and a magazine – a magazine I would hesitate to pick up because of the price – one that is beautifully designed and full of wonderful photos and inspirational features on the creative life.
The more I looked and the more I read, the more depressed I felt. I think it is because I often describe myself as a dabbler, and I am not totally submersed in one medium, nor do I have the “craft bug”. I think both artists and writers have to create or they are frustrated and irritable. I have never had that amount of drive.
In addition to their passion for the art, the subjects are so young and enthusiastic and at the start of their life’s work. I am at the other end of the spectrum and am winding down. I am the oldest of a wonderful group of friends, my “Mending Club”. Most of us met through having booths in the same store, and when the store closed, we found a way to stay together. We mend hearts and lives and friendships. We craft a little, we go on outings and a few overnights, we do gift exchanges, and dinner parties, and I am so grateful for the variety of talents in our little group. They inspire me.
But when John came downstairs on Mother’s Day, he encountered a bit of a basket case. It was not the reaction he expected I am sure. I tried to explain to John that I felt he didn’t know me (after 50+ years of marriage) because this magazine did not describe me.
I have a sun room office/work space, but it has nowhere near the character of this beautiful space.
In his love and patience he explained that I appeared exactly as those featured in the magazine. He described our home as my studio and the decorating of it as my passion, and it is. And he was sure that I too could use the inspiration and encouragement in her studio was intended to generate. And he is right. There are times I cannot wait to rearrange, or paint a wall, or add a new collectible, or do a craft, or paint a rusty old screen.
And there are times that I feel like I will not write another blog post, and then something happens, or I see something and an idea starts to take form, and here I am writing a post. So although I certainly don’t have the spaces these creative spirits inhabit, nor the energy I know it takes to pursue and develop the talents with which they are blessed, and I don’t look like the beautiful faces photographed in the pages of in her studio, those alternating dreamy or determined young faces, we are all kindred spirits. We are in different stages and different areas of creativity, and we can almost certainly appreciate and learn from each other.
Inside we are more alike than we realize, and yes, we are supposed to be who we are and develop the gifts within us that bring beauty and inspiration to our little corners of the world.
Instead of a novel being packed in my carry-on when I depart for a family wedding, I will be taking in her studio, and I will read each feature and absorb each photo, and come away with a greater understanding and appreciation for the unique beauty in each of us. Thank you, John, for bearing with me and encouraging me, and may I do the same for you and others.
If you would like to receive notifications of new posts, you may leave your email. It will not be visible to anyone else. Thank you.
