I love the winter holidays. Especially Christmas. I love the music, baking and decorating. I love the joyful chaos of relatives, kids, dogs, games, fires and glasses of port when the day is done. Cleaning up from the aforementioned wonderfulness…not so much.
I tackled putting away all of my carefully curated Christmas favorites and leaned on my teenage son to haul out the trees and trash. It’s hard to believe he will be grown and on his way to college next year. It will feel a whole lot different around here. Empty. Not gonna lie, this realization has had me, and I imagine will continue to have me, feeling a little melancholic. I’m not entirely good with change, and when I say “not entirely good” what I really mean is “not good at all…actually, so very, very bad”. When I am facing unavoidable change it reminds me of learning how to drive stick. Man did I grind those gears. It sounded like my car was crying and screaming simultaneously. That’s how I feel internally as these days of change come upon me.
But today is interesting. Outside it’s wet, rainy and grey. Even the trees look sad. It’s muddy and slushy and generally crappy. Even my dog Moe won’t go out. I try to encourage him but he’s giving me that “no freakin’ way” look on his face and I don’t blame him. The studio is different though.
I had such a feeling of gratefulness simply entering my space today. It’s cheery (because who doesn’t like cheery?) smells like turpentine (possibly one of my favorite scents…or maybe it contains hidden psychedelic properties…which could explain the draw) and invites me to create things. As I’m working I’m getting more and more dirty, slopping all these colors around. By the time the afternoon has come into view, paint is up to my elbows, behind one ear and slashed across my left cheek. During a quick break I take a look in the mirror and see an authentically happy girl.
Even when things hurt and are changing at warp speed, I can make Spring. This is where art intersects life. From my big cocktail of emotions, faith and fear; beautiful things emerge. If I’m lucky, this comes through on the canvas, but mostly the change is deep in my interior. I’m growing. Joy is emerging. Peace is settling. The process always amazes me to the extent that I think such a thing can only come from God. And so, with a deep awareness that life is constantly changing with its grinding gears, I’ll be right here, embracing my studio Spring.