When I was very young, my parents let me take both art and piano lessons. I fell in love with both ways to express myself. I couldn’t wait until I opened the door into the art studio and smelled the paints. We did small projects, but I still regarded myself as an artist!
Then the day arrived when my parents explained there would only be enough money for either art or piano…not both. What a decision for an eight year old to make. My days in the art studio ceased.
It was a good decision because my piano skills have been well used in over 30 years of musical instruction. And years later, I was able to once again stand in front of a blank canvas with a brush in my hand! My art teacher was not one to take over the canvas. So even when I felt I could go no further, she was there encouraging and insisting I push on! But it soon became difficult to push on when my hands were burning, as though on fire. And if at anytime during the lesson, I touched my face, it would begin to burn, too. I was so reluctant to admit my allergies to the oils…but forced once again to give up my painting.
The sky and mountain on the canvas are complete. The alpine trees should have been dotted with snow. I envision a few rocks in the river and the snow banks need white to add depth to the foreground. I “see” the completed canvas in my mind and heart.
My husband insists the unframed, unsigned painting should hang in our living room with several other pieces we have collected. At first I protested…but one day I realized my life’s canvas is not completed either…not abandoned…just not completed!!