About six months ago, I took up painting again. Something I had done in college and then after getting married, having kids and doing things that motherhood and marriage require, I deleted that desire and had to add new things I needed to remember in my “over thirty” cranium; like, what size diapers to buy, which wipes felt the sofest on their little round bottoms and the secret to getting that dreaded liquid pink antibiotic stain out of my husbands work shirts.
Honestly I was so busy, I never even really gave Art a second thought.
I was happy to be a mother, spend time with my family and husband and I tried to be creative in other ways; like introducing my kids to play-doh, arts and crafts, the wonder of glitter and glue and how to make a paper plate into a bright yellow sun for the refrigerator. These things are priceless and integral for those little minds!
Over the past few years, I have reached out of that comfort zone of “motherhood” and tried to broaden my creative horizons a bit…attempting things that are expressive because I just couldn’t hold it all in anymore.
Keeping it all bottled up inside really made for a grumpy ol’ me. I found myself feeling depressed, lonesome and isolated with my husband on second shift so I began writing projects at night on the computer and before long I became a columnist for our local paper. I’ve written a few blogs and articles and even published my first book “Food is Love-life, humor and sustenance for the Southern Soul“ and I am currently in the finishing stages of my second book “The Fat Suit-confessions of an overweight housewife” …I had this going plus three kids and a husband that I adore, but I really needed more to do with my hands…
Now that my kids are getting older, 19, 14 and 10 years old, their own interests have changed from glitter and glue to more adult tastes. My oldest son, William, became interested in painting with acrylics in high school. He would ask me to paint with him but I would always say I was busy, which I was and then one day I found myself sitting down with him and painting a picture of our family dog, Sweet Tea. This was the first time I had painted something in almost twenty years; and man it felt good.
I was shocked at how much time had passed since I had treated myself to this release of emotions and I was hooked. Within a few short months, I had created quite a collection of art and I approached a local Art league to see if they had room for my work in one of their consignment sales. They invited me to join them and I was so happy for the opportunity, even before the event I had sold two paintings!
What has happened over the past few months is an explosion of art in my house. I can’t stop. It’s like I am a woman on a mission and my mission is paint in my hair, everything in my head on technicolor canvas and weekly trips to the hobby store for supplies.
This kaleidoscope that hangs in my house is probably, by all accounts, a mid life crisis detour. And that’s fine with me.
I could use a detour even if it’s more like the yellow brick road than any midlife highway and the best part is, I already know there’s no place like home.