Author Archives: A Painterly Life

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About A Painterly Life

living a small, slow life in a small, slow town and loving every minute of it...please join my journal about aging, overcoming c-PTSD, living with chronic illness, and being creative in spite of it all.

“She Wears An Egyptian Ring…It Sparkles Before She Speaks…”

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It has been almost a month since last I posted here. Phew! What a whirlwind my waking life; my sleeping life, when it happens, a cacophony of otherworldly realms…

In The Artist’s Way, Julia Cameron says that going sane feels like going insane at first…she’s been right about so many things…I’m counting on her to be right about this!

This past weekend I stayed with my friend Marion, whose husband, Dick, passed away just a month ago. (See post of April 21st.) We had a great time, really. It was the Heritage Hill Home Tour in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Marion knew it would delight me, so she went out and purchased tickets right after we talked that morning. I explained that I had so much work to do here getting the house ready to market, but that my brother was threatening me again. She insisted I get in my car immediately and drive down to see her. (I did nickname her Miss Bossy Pants some time ago… she was actually my boss at that time…but that’s a different story!)

I had just pulled out of my neighborhood onto the main road when two Sandhill cranes flew low right over the hood of my car…and I was off on an adventure, knowing that it was exactly the right thing at the right time!

Ted Andrews, in his Dictionary of Birds, says that when Sandhill cranes appear in your life (and they seem to be following me lately) there is something to be watchful of and attentive to…they are noble guardians reminding us that it is time to change and move the guard! There is hidden protection around us, or we may need to be protective of someone weaker than we are. I only put up with my brother at this time because my dying father wants him around…but I am very aware that my father’s well being is at stake, and that he must be moved from my home into a safe environment.

The crane’s dual purpose is to remind us to celebrate life; that when we are SAFE it is time to DANCE! They serve as reminders to celebrate that which is OURS…and to join in the dance of life.

Lest you intellectualize that animals, and especially birds, are not spiritual messengers, let me remind you that these were not turkeys…

So, off I go on the tour of grand old homes with my fabulous friend…and we planted flowers and ate lots of fresh veggies and watched a baseball movie (Trouble With the Curve – it was terrific) and old Carol Burnett reruns on DVD and laughed until we had to cross our legs! Talk about healing…

And this morning I woke myself crying. I had dreamed that I came home only to find strange people in my house…it wasn’t my house after all…so I loitered outside trying to decide what to do, where to go…and a woman came out of the door and insisted that I leave or she would call the police…and I began crying, and woke up sobbing in Marion’s guest bed…

And then I remembered this as a recurring theme in my dream life since childhood…in grade school I would dream that I came home from school only to discover a strange woman in place of my Mother…and back out the door to check the address…yes…over to the neighbor kids…all strangers.

Where was I? I had followed the familiar route…where were my family, my friends? If this is not my street, my home, where am I? Where do I go? No one here knows me, no one can help…I am a stranger…all alone…

And then I got it, the gift…this is not my home. It never has been, it never will be…I AM my home. That Kingdom lives within. And the gift is also renewed curiosity in what HOME means. It will serve as impetus for a new exploration…

Last week a friend sang this song to me, and I have embodied it…well, the good parts…I’m not interested in painting the daytime black, but…suffice it to say, “I’ve got everything I need, I’m an artist…I don’t look back…

On The Street Where I Live…

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It was one of those dreams…again…early in the morning, barely awake.  I had come across a bicycle out on the street, abandoned. So I took it home, knowing it had been left for me. And then all sorts of magical things began to happen…but wait, if this is a magical bicycle…
I can’t have a magical life…if too many good things happen, then the bad things will be really bad. And I heard “It doesn’t work that way anymore. This is the age of your enlightenment.”

So, I’m keeping the bike…

One morning recently I woke hearing this song. Where the bleep did THAT come from? I mean, I probably heard Dean Martin sing it on television when I was a kid (and TV was still in black and white!) and I’m sure I saw My Fair Lady, also as a kid…but that’s been a few years- like forty, give or take…

So, why this song? Why now? It absolutely changed my state of consciousness. It was God. Singing. To. Me.

And I share this with you, whoever should happen to be reading this, now…because it is for you, too. It is for us to get it, once and for all…he is waiting, on the street where we live…he’s happier there. Go look, he left you a bicycle.

There Will Always Be…

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My heart is broken. My friend Dick DeVinney passed away yesterday. He and my dear friend Marion had owned Synchronicity Gallery in Glen Arbor, Michigan for seventeen years before selling it and retiring back to their native Grand Rapids. They had employed me for nine years, but they became my family, too. This picture was taken with my iphone at ArtPrize this past fall…we had such fun.

Dick was an accomplished musician, choir director, teacher and author of both music textbooks and a novel, an untiring supporter of the arts in northern Michigan. He and Marion founded the Celebrations Art Show at the First United Methodist Church of Grand Rapids many years ago, and that show has grown since.

More importantly, Dick was a remarkable human. He never met a stranger. He fought for equal rights all of his life, he was a loving husband and father above all else, a “mensch”. It was a privilege to have him in my life…and my world is a little dimmer today…although he would say to me “try to remain calm”…I will miss him.

The Street Fight of My Life…

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She says people are sick and tired of being afraid. I know I am. But I am in it, this “shitstorm” of shame and guilt and fear…the street fight of my life. Vulnerability, come to find out, is my greatest strength. And I am blessed with “move the body” friends who I can count on to show up for me no matter what; I have won the friend lottery. They live in vulnerability, too…and I am learning how to show up for them; that is my greatest moment of honor. As Brene Brown says, that is when I am aligned with my values, and courage is my value:

Anyone who has been around me for any length of time has heard me quip, “I’d tell you my whole story all at once, but then you might not buy my book.” and they laugh…finally, perhaps, at the age of fifty-nine (damn, I wish I’d have gotten wiser younger!) I am beginning to realize that I need to choose more carefully those with whom I can trust my story:

 

The bottom line here is that I want to live wholeheartedly. Perhaps for the first time in my life I understand the stakes.  None of us are getting out of here alive, but if I cannot have less fear in my days, let me meet those days with courage and the grace to show up for the street fight armed only with vulnerability.

“You Must Note the Way the Soapdish Enables You…”

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Put down the weight of your aloneness and ease into the conversation…for the nature of reality, it turns out, is a conversation.  David Whyte has been my favorite poet for many years, since a friend gave me his newly published “The House of Belonging.” There are few lives lived in such genius, and we ought to take full advantage of their willingness to join with us…I’m sure he could have gotten a janitorial position with Will had he not been so brave. Every minute of this twenty minute talk is chock full of help for those of us busy shaping ourselves to fit this world.

So may we, in this life, TRUST to those elements we have yet to see or imagine…

Just tryin’ to make his way home…

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What if God were one of us?…when I anthropomorphize God- and do not pretend you don’t!- he is a big, clumsy galoot like me…just a slob like one of us…but I’ll bet he cries a days’ worth of nourishment over the rainforest in awe of a tiny blue beetle…I imagine he wonders for eternity over a drop of dew hanging from a delicate petal…and I’m certain he rejoices as a father watches the moment that the daughter he has always believed in meets her destiny…if there is anything I know of God, it is that he is incomprehensible in his faithful and infinite love…a stranger…just like one of us…just tryin’ to make his way home…

http://youtu.be/Ns1YPjlkZeg

If God had a name…

You Know, the Preacher Likes the Cold…

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Yesterday I told my Dad that I have come to realize I am solar powered. He looked over at me quizzically, as you can imagine…but it’s true…I don’t seem to have any energy unless the sun is out! And here I live in the darkest corner of the United States. Literally, the northwest corner of the lower peninsula of Michigan has less sunny days than anywhere in the fifty states.

It has been a long winter. We have had record snowfalls, less sunshine even than normal. We are still experiencing record low temperatures for this time of year. It was in the teens last night, my sidewalk and street are covered in ice. My dear little corgis and I have really packed on the pounds this winter.

http://youtu.be/3ZVKhgRSt3Q

But it has been a long healing, this isolation…through the dormancy of my expectations, a new life is beginning to emerge. The preacher likes the cold…he knows I’m gonna stay…

Good Will Hunting Comes Out of the Janitor’s Closet…

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Peter Diamondis, one of the greatest minds on the planet, speaks about the moment when the fall of the American Empire began- not long ago, perhaps a decade or so now,and HOW this occurred…when RISK AVERSION became the acceptable modus operandi…and he says it is killing us.

He then presents the model of a new paradigm which will transform life on the planet…and take us into The Age of Abundance. Do yourself a favor and watch his inspiring videos.

We all hide our genius, in so many ways…we are Will Hunting waiting for our ride to work, spending our days mopping the floors… it is time to leave the mop in the closet and solve the problem on the board when no one is watching…to step outside our limited thinking and IMAGINE, to be ARTISTS.

Just Say No to Taupe…and Goodbye to Guilt…

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Years ago one of my favorite Interior Design authors, Alexandra Stoddard, used a phrase in one of her books which I will never forget: “the insidious, evil, creeping taupe…”

Alexandra won my heart early in her illustrious career by advocating for the riotous use of color even in defiance of the Taupe era…that dull “griege” movement that seems to have taken over the design world since the seventies, like an invasion of some alien virus that permeated the human psyche unnoticed and unchecked. Alexandra warned us, like the early warnings from environmental scientists of global warming…

You Laugh!!! You think I make funny, outrageous comparisons…and I do…I posit however, no more outrageous than ANY comparison between the inner and outer realms of man’s consciousness…the American mindset drifted off course and we became subject to the dysfunction of a society with no clear conscience…politically correct, dumbed down, made into a taupe-y mush…and hence, Clinton couldn’t inhale…but I digress…

We live racked with guilt. Whatever we do, we mustn’t offend…we go to the meeting because we should…we are nice to the ornery neighbors. We need to stand up to those who would wittingly sell us their malaise, their taupe…or, as another brilliant artist of my generation describes the problem: “Richard got married to a figure skater, and he bought her a dishwasher and a coffee percolator and he drinks at home now most nights with the TV on and all the house lights left up bright.”

How do we say yes powerfully if we don’t have the courage to say no? More importantly, how do we know we are acting out of guilt if we aren’t clear about what we really want? I question when we became so complacent, how the compromises overtook us little by little, crept into our consciousness like an alien virus…

And this relates to Interior Design HOW? Well, my influences all have a common criteria intricate to their design decisions: NATURE, the natural world. It’s integrity is built in, dependable. Where do you see TAUPE in nature? I have looked, and the answer is that you seldom find it…you see it best in the mourning dove. That’s spelled MOURNing…because taupe is just sad.

Be a good dreamer. Defend your sweet revolutionary soul. Stop the insidious habit of acting out of guilt, out of your codependent conditioning…and for God’s sake PAINT OVER THE TAUPE!