Just over five years ago, after several years of pain, a disc in my lower back ruptured (in Cleveland…it was a long drive home). Surgery followed.
The weeks of recovery spanned April of 2019.
And unable to do much, I got restless.
When I was able to walk around the first of the month, I hobbled into the art store where I’d always bought small gifts for Jack and Charlie (then 4 and 1)….
…and I asked: “if I wanted to paint a painting, what do I need to buy?”
We walked around the store and bought some canvasses, paint, brushes and a few other things:
Then I went home, and began playing around with my new art supplies.
Over the next few days, I painted the first three paintings above (the Ohio River as you land at the Cincinnati airport, and two scenes from Georgian Bay/Lake Huron, where I spent summers growing up), and enjoyed doing so. But except for the flag on the back of the boat, and maybe the small tree, I didn’t feel good about the results. Which wasn’t a surprise—I have horrific handwriting, am mildly color blind (red-green), have never showed any artistic talent, and hadn’t painted anything since high school. Still, somewhere inside, I’ve always had this urge that I wanted to paint (endless doodling of shapes and objects was a hint).
I had a small breakthrough on my next go. I decided to narrow my focus, and did this painting—of rocks and shoals from Georgian Bay:
I felt a little better about how it looked, and enjoyed the process even more. What was amazing was how each small stroke, or even a line or two, or just a trace of shade, could dramatically change how a rock looked. Or the water. Or where the water and rock came together. Mere touches could completely change the shape of a rock. Also, adding just a few specks of yellow really added life to the bushes, and the whole painting.
So I did another one, this time focusing more on the sky. With the sun going down. (In Georgian Bay, we admire almost every night’s sunset). And that seemed to work even better, especially the light reflecting on the water, and through the clouds:
Painting number six captured a higher vantage point, where I played more with evolving colors of the sky along with a more dramatic reflection. At this point, you can probably tell, I was getting hooked. And the light and contrast really popped...I still remember the excitement of adding that dark tree over the reflection:
Enjoying doing rocks and sky, but still frustrated with my first lighthouses, I tried another one. This one from Marblehead, Ohio:
Then I headed East for a Cleveland sunrise (experimenting with more water reflections)…
Which prompted me to do a Cincinnati sunrise, from the West side….
Then I went back north for more Lake Huron rocks, but this time from the vantage of a kayak…
And then really went to town on reflections, trying two more lake sunrises…
Then I went to Italy, trying to capture biking a hilly Italian road (which I’ve done a few times)…
And then made one more stop to Georgian Bay, for one final sunset.
And THAT got to me through my restless April—the month, five years ago, that hooked me on painting. And showed me that I could do it.
So I’ve never stopped. And it’s brought a completely unanticipated and new dimension to my life (including a number of art shows and sales — yes, most of my paintings are for sale).
Most important, that April five years ago reiterated a life lesson I’d learned a few years before, when for the first time, I decided to write a novel:
Try new things. Always. You never know where they’ll go, or what you may be good at, or what will inspire you.
So….look for your nearest art store and get going!
David, My story starts in politics. I joined Markers For Democracy, had an endless supply of markers, grabbed some copy paper and started drawing randomly. My husband, thought I had been doing something like paint by numbers. When I said this was totally freehand, he didn't believe me. My amateur art career took off from that conversation. Since then, I've gifted and sold my art work to raise money for various causes. Have had a few art shows as well, which has shocked many. I gifted one to @SimonRosenberg and he displays it on the chair behind him
in most of his zooms. Some of my designs are now on postcards and can be ordered through DemocracyMarkers, the postcarding site for Markers For Democracy. Like you, I find it incredibly relaxing-- for me it is a form
of art complimenting political
action. My instagram account is 65 Lines- Art For Good. And, I'm proud to say, I am the proud owner of a Pepper.
Thanks for sharing the journey! I was going to ask how long you spend on each painting and then you said all 14 of those were from a month of recovery! Wow!