The Artists Life - Roses In Winter

   For well over several decades, my creativity has gone down a long, winding path. For the past 12 months, I've been meticulously working on a special project, and yesterday, my husband Dave, procured the last bit of supplies I would need to finish it; and it will be completed 2+ weeks ahead of the deadline. It's a good feeling. Those feelings carry over to when and how I create - it's like a big circle. For example, when I create, I almost always have to be in the right mood. When I'm in that state of mind, the muse accompanies me just about every time. When those two aspects come together, I'm most often pleased with the results, whether the work is finished or still in progress. When I'm pleased, it's a good feeling. See what I mean?

   For me, it takes the courage of Hercules for me to sit my butt down, by myself, and focus long enough to begin something new. In most cases, the inspiration comes from a story someone tells me that might spark a vision to follow. Other times, it comes from an abstract of some sorts from nature. A few times, it has come from the photographs my husband takes and then shows me on his computer. If any of my readers live in the eastern two-thirds of the United States, or even if you don't and you've been following the news, just about everyone knows how cold it has been since the day after Christmas. If the temperatures aren't below zero, it's snowing like hell. I'll admit - it's been difficult to doodle snow; all I get is a blank white page. With the frigid temperatures, there has been incredible amounts of sea smoke out on the ocean water and in the harbor which is two blocks from my house. Sea smoke is like fog, and while it hangs low near the water, it looks like a cloud. The farther out to sea you go, the more sea smoke there is. It occurs when very cold air meets much warmer water. But being who I am, and possibly a typical (or untypical) artist, the gray sea smoke lost it's novelty after about a week. Maybe because I knew how cold it was outside and was getting tired of it.

   Dave and I watched a good movie last night with Robert Di Nero and Anne Hathaway, called The Intern. I related to Di Nero's character Ben right off the bat. While I'm not 70 years old nor a widower, he had traveled, read all kinds of books, tried yoga, joined groups, etc., but felt like he needed something else to occupy his time. He wasn't ready to just roll over, be old, and eventually die. He gets hired as an intern as part of a "senior mentor" program and the experiences with along with all differences between him and a slew of millennial's that work for this internet company is amusing to downright hilarious. He ends up partnering with the owner and CEO of the company whose name is Jules, and is literally young enough to be his grand-daughter. Throughout the movie, the relationship between Ben and Jules grows from awkward, to professional, to friendship. By the end of the movie, it seems that Ben is the person who Jules not only trusts the most, but confides in frequently. Through him, she realizes that she doesn't believe in herself as much as she says she does, she doesn't know it all, she can't do it all, but with a little help from friends, family, and close co-workers, she can accomplish these challenges. It also shows that there's no substitute for experience. I related to Ben's character because, like him in the beginning, I sometimes feel lost and drifting through my days while my husband is at work. And yes, I've tried yoga, I do Zumba once a week, I read all kinds of books, I paint, I write, I crochet - and yet it feels like I don't "do enough".

   At times, I wonder about the value of my paintings, my writing, as well as my life, as silly as that sounds. While I've sold a good number of works over the years, I've still created more than I've sold. I need to examine and find new ways for them to be seen this year... and hopefully sold. The literary / art project I'm working on this winter will help curb the tide of canvases coming into my studio.

   However, I had a glimmer of hope after watching the movie. Say what you want - "Jill... it's just a Hollywood movie." Yes, I agree with you. However, there was a specific message throughout the film; You're never too old to learn new things, and you're never too old... period.

   Until next time,
   Jill