Saturday, 1 June 2013

Staring at a Blank Canvas

After 15 years of saying I am going to paint and 7 years after those ideas have been hibernating in some part of my brain (right side I would guess), I decided to buckle down. I found a gift certificate for Gwartzman's Art Supplies that had been stuffed in various junk drawers since 1996. Thank you to Andrea Shepley who originally gave me the certificate and to Mr. Gwartzman for honoring my ancient piece of paper (yes, it was paper, folks!)

Now its been 3 maybe 4 weeks since I have set up the easel and the canvas in my front room in front of the windows. It occupies part of the space otherwise known as the living room, where I and we (when my kids are home) do truly live most of our non-sleeping time. The living room opens to the dining room which opens to the kitchen, and is also beside the front door and front hall (also open space).

My point in giving you the layout of my flat is that I see the easel with its blank canvas staring back at me most of the day. I haven't started painting yet. Part of this has to to with me promising my first painting in years, to my sister. I wanted to paint for her, her "happy place", which turns out to be many places in Provence. Starting this is proving more difficult than I thought since it is not my happy place. Topic for another blog. And I do love Provence and the south of France as pretentious as that sounds.

Part of me thinks it also has something to do with what that blank canvas represents. Our lives are constantly changing. Sometimes it is because we choose a different direction, and sometimes it is because that path was chosen for us. Regardless, we are repeatedly given blank canvasses. And I am finding my blank canvas in its current state is beautiful to me. I realize I've been staring at it as I contemplate my next job, my next relationship, my next musing. And it's exciting. Potential is wonderful gift as it allows us to dream.

And I could make this a just a beautiful piece of art, a beautiful life, but what I want is more to make it a deep and relevant experience. So, for now I dream. I'm holding on as long as I can, until I can't. And eventually the potential of this blank canvas will burst into my next reality, and the next.

“I learned this, at least, by my experiment: that if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours.” - Henry David Thorough
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