The Painting Spectrum - Clean Slate, Clean Palette

   It was another whirlwind week filled with voting (and that whole tense situation), making a trip to see my dentist, and a road trip to Massachusetts for a Veterans Day ceremony - and somewhere in all that I managed to finish another oil spill inspired painting. Part of my painting process is to maintain, to the best of my ability, an even emotional keel. My mantra is a desire to paint beauty. Beauty comes in many shapes, forms, and colors. My palette is a rainbow - one mindset I embrace is, if I can begin with happiness, I shall end with happiness.

    This is one reason why for this campaign season (marathon?), I shut off the television and blocked all political posts from my Facebook feed. I stayed informed enough for my comfort level, but that was my personal boundary. This past week however, a heaviness still weighed the atmosphere. By Wednesday morning, it seemed almost all of America had a massive political hangover. I had to strictly regiment my time this past week to avoid negativity at all costs. This meant no media at all; radio, newspaper, TV, and the Internet. My husband burned a massive stack of new CD's, so that is what played almost all week. This is part of my creative process. I need a "clean slate and clean palette" emotionally and mentally in order to paint or I won't be able to focus on my work.

   By midweek, I made my dentist appointment for a routine cleaning. In the hygienist's office, there was a cute stuffed purple dragon in the corner. He had green horns, a purple body, and big red dots on his face. He also had a set of false teeth and was holding an oversized toothbrush.  
"The kids call him Fuzzy," Alice told me as she scraped my teeth. I felt great after I left the dentist and went home to paint.

   One of the first order of operations was to remove the old palette sheet as the last remaining oil paint had dried up and replace it with a new one. On went the rainbow of new color - yellow, orange, red, green, blue and purple. Beginning with yellow, I laid in the design of the oil drip / spill I was going to paint. The other colors followed and their placement was wherever they felt "right" to me. After a few hours, I was satisfied with the finished work and called it done. I set it aside to let the paint start its drying process. As I stepped back, I could have sworn I saw Fuzzy, that happy purple dragon, in my painting... minus the false teeth and toothbrush of course.

   Friday morning came early, but I was blessed with a beautiful sunrise. A short while later, my husband and I embarked on the 3 1/2 hour trek to central Massachusetts. One positive aspect about our trip through Maine and New Hampshire, were no school buses and the road construction workers had the day off. Not so in Massachusetts - we were held up twice by construction (read: huge traffic jams) and arrived with only a 20 minute window to spare before the ceremony started. We were greeted by other family members and made decisions on who was doing what and where we were all sitting. As humans, I guess we all need some sort of "process" regardless of the situation.

   The ceremony was solemn but beautiful. There were the presentations of colors, veterans marching in, speeches (very short ones, thank God) made by local, state, and national (senate) officials. Afterward, there was the presentation of medals, certificates of appreciation, and a commemoration letter written by the President of the United States to over 120 Vietnam veterans. My brother and I accepted the honors in behalf of my deceased father. The ceremony closed with the singing of a few military favorites, the presentation of wreaths, and the playing of taps for all deceased soldiers.

   Even with the massive crowd of almost 1,000 people, we manged to snap some family photos and were interviewed by two local newspaper reporters. One of the questions asked of my mother was how her late husband handled his return home. She told them he didn't talk about it much. The Vietnam war was filled with controversy. There were years of protests and many veterans did not receive a warm welcome home nor the recognition they deserved. My father and my family just did the best they could. It's possible that my father didn't talk about the conflict that much because he wanted to start over with a "clean slate and clean palette" with his young family. It's a shame that it's taken this country 50 years to honor these veterans in some formal way. However, even though it took a half a century, I'm grateful.

   Most of my extended family joined us for a late lunch after the ceremony commenced. While waiting for our table at the restaurant we went to, there was another veteran who struck up a conversation with us. He thanked my father for his service. He didn't know me, my mother, or anyone else. However, there is a common thread of being human. We can all get along despite our opinions and differences. Because of this conversation with this stranger, I came away with a sense of pride, hope, and faith... in all of us. Maybe this is another example of a "clean slate" we all need to move forward in our lives.

Until next time,
The Happy Painter,
Jill