When we were kids, we often begged, “Mom, we just HAVE to make something!” and she knew we had to. I don’t remember our family being very crafty but I come from a collection of pretty talented artists. My little sister gets the most attention for her work (for good reason) and you can see it by clicking here http://www.bau-xi.com/dynamic/artist.asp?ArtistID=38. I am the lucky recipient of a 5 ft acrylic on panelboard painting of a place we frequently walked. I call it Lost Lake Arbutus and it warms my living room with its deep, woodsy hues.
Music played a huge role in my growing up; mostly rock and roll, blues, calypso and folk, which my dad banged out on his Gibson’s while he practiced for his frequent gigs at some club downtown. I grew up on She Loves You, yeah, yeah, yeah; Johnny B. Goode, Twist and Shout, and satirical renditions of Alouette to name a few. When I took up the same instrument as a young adult I knew the blues progressions like nobody’s business because that’s where I cut my musical teeth. We owned a good number and variety of instruments over the years and he played them all. My dad loved to play music and he was very good at it. Those were happy times.
My sister, Dee, is fastidious about whatever she does so what she does do, she does well. She has an especially keen eye for photography and fashion. Her daughter, Jamie is the same but often with purple hair and more energy.
Auntie Bev paints, spins, quilts, weaves and lives on Saltspring Island where she inspires others to create and is inspired in turn. Have you heard of the ArtStarts in Schools program http://artstarts.com/index.php?section=2&page_id=16 where professional artists visit a classroom to teach and promote the creative process? It’s a great way for kids to meet people who are living examples of creativity. She does that too.
As you step into my foyer you will notice a fine ink drawing of England’s Canterbury Cathedral’s nave. The work is exquisite in its detail and calls 
the observer to a closer examination. It came to me as a print by my grandfather’s hand. It is now encased in glass and a soft, scrolled pewter frame. I never really knew my grandfather but I understand he suffered unexplainable anguish over who knew what? His behaviour, apparently, made him scary and hard to get to know. He drank a lot, and I think of him when I hear James Taylor sing those famous lines, “it must have taken a whole lot of whiskey to live inside his skin.” I think it’s sad where a brilliant mind can take a person sometimes.
During my time overseas in Austria in the 1970’s, I sent a postcard to my grandma from the village where I spent most of the year. Since my arrival home was to be a surprise for my parents and sisters, I had Grandma see me part of the way home. It was then that she unveiled the large, framed oil-on-canvas that had occupied her evenings the past few months. She painted my Austrian village! I like to hang it in my living room throughout the winter months and let its rich memories keep me company. If I close my eyes, I can see her along the walkway in Stanley Park on an artist Sunday, brush in hand, head tilted, back arched, breath on canvas, brushing colour on scratchy white tautness; just for me.
In her early teens, my daughter wrote the beginning of a correspondence story back and forth with a close friend who lived nearby. Together they crafted a narrative of an imaginary friendship, in a previous era where old fashioned letter writing was the only means by which long distance friendships were cultivated and the details of life exchanged. She once told me that she writes 3 foolscap sheets of what she calls “morning pages” to start the day. Not long ago she went cyber and added ‘blogger’ http://www.asabee.ca/to her repertoire of experiences. Reading her blog is my favourite way to begin my day because her writing expresses the stuff of life in a voice that I have known and cherished for nearly 30 years. She speaks plainly and honestly and captivatingly.
These people enrich my life and I am grateful for them.
They inspire me to create as is true to who I am created to be. For me, it is part of the joy of the each season, and in particular this season.
Everyone is talking. Talking about losing weight, getting in better shape, quitting this bad habit or that. I decided years ago that instead of making a New Year’s resolution I would pick a word and let it be my word for the year. Some of my favourites have been simplicity, peace, creativity, devotion, gratitude and laughter. This year I’m stuck.
preliminary stages of some exciting travel plans. Registration for the next course in my degree is in process and I am continuing to serve as President of Women in Focus for Western Canada, both of which challenge and satisfy me. From this Raven Rock perch, prospects for 2012 look promising.
We said goodnight and Bruce kissed me on the cheek as if to say, thanks for caring.
