It’s not always easy to do what we want to do, and we get complacent when it is easy for a while. I need to remember that easiness is a gift and I dare not forget that.

This last year has been especially challenging for me just because of the little bits that happen, often tending to come together in one of life’s bottlenecks. That convergent timing can make somebody feel a little picked on.

None of these occurrences that I call bits are insurmountable, but in fact are the kind of challenges (aka speed bumps) that everyone has. When health-related, and more frequent as we get older, they are also something we are resistant to look at objectively. We don’t want a steady diet of harsh reality, even if our reality is gentler than someone else’s. Case in fact, while we know that everyone has something going on that the rest of us don’t know about, we are ‘sure’ that ours is bigger and badder than someone else’s.

One of my speed bumps, and my current bane, is the simple wait for overdue cataract surgery. We knew I had cataracts growing, but when some other priorities had to step up for attention this year, cataract surgery got bumped to the back burner. As a very visual person, indeed an artist by passion, waiting to be able to see the world around me unencumbered hit harder than I expected. My color pallette was altered, let alone being able to translate and reproduce what I’m seeing effectively on paper or canvas is … let’s say “eye opening”. I’m finding myself impatient to be scheduled, and  downright cross because I can’t paint effectively.

I am embarrassed because I never completely understood the impact this has had on other people. Cataract surgery is relatively common as we age and I know more older people who have had it done, than don’t. Once again I am humbled by deferred empathy.

So I will keep playing with little sketches and watercolor and use my magnifying glass when I struggle to find my mark. It isn’t really important if the work is great. It will be more important to keep reminding myself that this is temporary and patience, is indeed a virtue.

Change is definitely difficult, and subtly more complex than expected… always. For the past two years I’ve been going through the typical retirement shift from an established lifestyle to the new ‘simpler’ one. The process is not unique to me, we all do it. We all need to find our own distinct way and learn our own personal lessons.

There are considerations of finance, health, age, and fear of change. I have to evaluate these considerations, tweak habits, and get starkly critical of myself. Identifying and working on shortcomings will help me to move forward in whatever next direction is waiting. Yes, definately difficult.

One of my shortcomings, I am realizing, is my pride. It feels embarrassing and surprising since we strive our whole life to feel good about our choices, actions and successes.

Pride is an odd and duplicital trait. It is a good thing to feel pride in what you can do, to feel pride as you succeed at something, and to feel pride in being good at something. It can make us more confident and adds strength to who we are.

But pride can also be a sign of insecurity. If the pride is springing from insecurity it can be reliant on diminishing someone else to elevate yourself. Pride can be a hollow flaw that takes away your empathetic response and rightly effects how people view you. No one appreciates arrogance and selfish pride will only erode. The true challenge is to have a healthy self-worth without arrogant pride.

Sadly, by the very circumstances of being a woman in the work environment, we are compelled to appear fearless, strong, self reliant, and self serving. Unfortunately, to instead appear empathetic, nurturing, or loving in the workplace is often cause for ridicule. Those traits are equated to showing weakness, so instead we must control the narrative and anything that could potentially knock us from a place of power where we can actually affect change and serve others.

Serving is foundational to my faith and a large part of who I am as an adult. I’ve always loved giving to other people. It brings me great joy. I have had to be subtle and intentionally careful, however, because people can feel uncomfortable receiving blessings. People often feel unworthy of receiving praise, rewards and gifts. I respect that. As I am getting older I am experiencing that firsthand and discovering a surprising level of deferred empathy. I realize one of my greatest shortcomings is the need to learn how to receive gifts.

As I reveal and face my shortcomings in this effort to become the next and better version of myself, I am feeling grateful for this process. I am becoming the truly spiritual and loving servant I was designed to be. I am understanding the complexities of true love of self and others. Real change and growth is uncomfortable and humbling and joyful and peaceful … and vital.

To truly serve I must learn to live in grace, humbly giving and receiving seamlessly and without hesitation. By relinquishing unnecessary control I can finally live at a level of harmony that will be evident in my artwork.

I process through my artwork. My artwork reveals insight to my spirit. I won’t even try to predict where this will all lead but I trust the process and trust is synonimous with faith. It’s all about life and the wonderment of all of the amazing pieces of who we are coming together to become the best gift we can give back to our maker. It’s about coming full circle.

This is a detail of a painting that is 24″ x 30″ oil on canvas and is yet to be named.

I tend to spend far too much time comparing my art to other artists and feeling inadequate. It is a self-defeating exercise since we are all unique. I am like no other artist… and yet I do not stand out from the crowd. Perhaps that is not a bad thing?

I see air, but do not see the air making the same colored swirl patterns that Van Gogh did. I see color but do not hear colors the same way Kandinsky did. I see fractured, geometric planes in the architecture of the land but do not see the world broken into blocks of color like Cezanne or the cubists did.

My style is my own, an aggregate of influences, life experiences, and growth, and I can only assume that it is the case for any other artist. I admire other artists and their methods and styles. I do not capture the light I see with the fast, gestural strokes of the impressionists who quickly reflect the fleeting light through color value. Instead, I have a blended style that starts with those fast paint methods and decrescendos down to fine detail. I see light like a flowing veil of translucent color with a sparkle of captured granulation that clings like dew or wraps around objects as if it were water vapor. I don’t glaze for that effect or opaquely build values, but sit somewhere between.

I’ve been told in classes, in conversations with established artists, and from gallery owners that I need to do things differently. I have been told I need to focus. Pick a style. Pick a subject. Settle in. I never could.

My subject matter is literally anything that strikes my fancy at any given moment and I rarely repeat any subject I have done. I just paint and move on. My style is consistent in so far as I never stop evolving. You can track my progress chronologically but you can also see the tectonic shifts continually jolting along under my work.

I’ve been thinking alot about the competitions that I have entered over the years, and with increased frequency since I retired. It is discouraging not to get in and I often find bits of my Ego showing when it appears that those who are succeeding aren’t necessarily better than I am. I ask myself what I’m doing wrong, of course. Sometimes it appears that it is the younger artist’s game. There is a freshness and a passion that is evident in the work and the jurors selected, often more seasoned artists, are drawn to them. There is a natural bias of nostalgia that is sometimes present and you might see a desire to open doors for younger artists knowing that we may not have had the opportunities in our early careers.

One show that I see come up every other year is geared for women painting representational figurative. I’ve noticed that the work selected is often that of the younger women who have passionate and edgy narratives clearly evident. I’ve been realizing recently that I spent my entire life being a warrior. I have been angry and outspoken about our environment, women’s rights, intellectual freedoms and truth. Now in my later years, I have stopped being as angry and my work is reflecting my growing peace. I know that there are still fights that need fighting and causes that need troubadours but I have changed and must pass that torch on to these new warriors.

This is a 16 x 20 oil on canvas of my perspective of the clouds in that night sky. Yes, perhaps I can be at peace just being my unique self… just being enough.

I can tell the adventure has begun and change is underway.

In my last writing I talked about being excited and open to anything but like I often do I launched into planning, listing, roadbuilding and scheduling – being completely oblivious to any plan other than my own.

I am a doer and my mind is never quiet – my inner vibration, rarely still. Usually pretty organized, I plow forward with my long range view in mind, appearing confident and perhaps even a bit arrogant. I don’t believe in passively waiting for blessings but run on the adage that God helps those who help themselves. This also feeds a personal assumption that I have some modicum of control and then find myself humbled and surprised when I am gently reigned in. Sheepishly, I then listen.

My plans had included several weeks of Christmas and holiday gatherings, events, light shows, and shopping. Then, following the first week in January my husband and I planned a road trip to Florida for the rest of the month to see sights, to spend precious time with friends, and to paint each day. Quietly and surprisingly the plan just dissolved. We got some kind of virus or flu (despite vaccinations and boosters) that put us in bed with weeks of slow recovery and coughing. The subtle cascade of events from there involved inclement weather, physical limitations, and disappointment.

Although I talk about stoically rolling with the cosmos, much to my embarrassment I chose a disgruntled response. Like a petulant child I pouted and whined that I didn’t get my way and made it clear I didn’t want to embrace this ‘mandatory adulting’. Logically I know that these events are just part of life but arrogance is a loud voice and makes it hard to hear reason. It’s not necessarily wrong to have a brief pity party as long as you don’t make it a lifestyle choice.

So the time came when I knew it was time to stop. Just stop. I began to take each element of the month long lesson and really look at it with a change in perspective. This exercise feels an awful lot like counting your blessings but is more humbling. I realized that I have been really blessed. My husband is a really fair and caring person; the days each of our illness started were perfectly timed and staggered just enough to be able to help each other through the worst part; we had simple foods in house to prepare when we needed it; we had a warm and secure home with laundry and disinfectants to get us back on track. Once I began the process of seeing events objectively the inertia made it more and more clear that things were as they were meant to be.

It was important for me to be reminded that for the wonderful adventures planned for us in the coming year to get any traction, I needed to stop trying to control everything. It was important for me to remember that there are a myriad of possibilities for each day and many of the resulting outcomes are more wonderful than I can anticipate with my limited scope. It was important for me to be reminded to trust God’s plan and know that it will be just right for us.

Now, 18 days into the new year I find myself finally sitting quietly and listening for insight on what I should do or expect next. I feel calm, well, and peaceful and took some time in my studio and painted. This is the first painting of this year and is a simple study of grapes in a vineyard that I was fortunate to be able to walk in one afternoon last summer. Now, I look forward to what the year ahead has to offer. Thanks for joining me today and in the upcoming year.