This Time It’s Personal

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My 2017 new year’s resolution was to be consistent with this blog. Specifically, to blog every Monday whether I liked it or not. It only took me until June to stop missing Mondays, and since then I feel like all my posts could be summarized like this, “I’m so frustrated” followed by some modest ranting and raving. 

Being stuck, lost, and frustrated, I imagine, is a defining human characteristic, but this week I want to share something more upbeat.

Last night I got this email from Leanne:

Denise- I was so upset when I saw that this painting had sold before I had the chance to buy it.  Imagine my surprise when I walked in the house tonight and found that my sweet husband had left me a gift. I’m so in love the painting……and with him!

I can’t wait to return the beach condo next weekend and hang it in its new home.  She’ll be joining a painting of yours that we bought my daughter for her graduation. We are quickly becoming collectors of your work!

I’ve never met Leanne in person, but the painting she references the new one joining is one I wrote about months ago in a post that challenged me and my understanding of vulnerability. After having purchased that  earlier painting, Leanne had sent me the following:

Denise- I am so excited about the painting.  I bought it as a gift for my daughter, Alys, who is graduating from NYU next Wednesday.  I’m secretly hoping she will leave the painting at home when she attends grad school in London next fall.  

Alys is such a talented and adventurous spirit who loves the arts.  While she can’t draw or paint like you, she acts, sings and writes.  Alys recently signed a two book deal with Carina Press, which is an imprint of Harlequin.  As you can imagine, I am one proud mother.  

The painting and your blog post about it just spoke to me.  It reminded me so much of Alys and her journey through this world.  I hope that when she eventually builds her home/office she will hang your painting and gain strength through its message and beauty.  

I don’t always know where my paintings end up. Part of me imagines them as actual little birds leaving the nest. There might be nothing more gratifying than hearing about where one ended up and a why.

It wasn’t long ago that I was asked to not be so “personal” in an artist’s statement I was writing. It is people like Leanne who remind me that being personal is what forges the meaningful connections that keep frustrations at bay and inspiration in constant supply. Thank you, Leanne. Your timing was impeccable.

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