Speaking to the Future Generations

Last night we received the phone call that we waited for all day yesterday, the one that would confirm that yesterday was Dave's Nana's last day and would allow us to officially grieve over our loss of her.  Nana had been sick for several months, so the grieving had already been happening for a while.  Drawing upon some memories, hoping to derive some comfort or consolation, I stumbled upon the realization that Nana's message is alive and is all around us.

Nana was a neighbor, friend, community activist, loving wife, mother, grandmother, and even a great-grandmother.  She was also an artist.  She did calligraphy and scrimshaw, but her specialty was watercolor miniatures.  Her artwork is proudly displayed all over our house; we love soliciting surprised responses when we tell others that these pieces are not photos, but paintings.  Amazing was her knowledge of color and light, her attention to detail, her technique with a paintbrush, her ability to use a medium to create and to make alive.  And through her artwork, Nana speaks to me this morning.

I remember reading somewhere that a key to finding purpose in life is finding your medium...that glorious material or subject that allows you to express your true self (I regret that I can't remember the source of this idea...please let me know if you can help me).  For Nana, it was paint and paper, and for my Nana, needles and thread, sugar and flour.  For my Pop-Pop, it was wood and nails, seeds and soil.  Maybe for you it's math or words or people.  The artwork, clothing, recipes, and furniture, live on, along with all of the memories, even after the creator is gone.  They speak to us of the creator's joys, hopes, and talents.  They remind us of the love the creator shared with us.

Today, the desire to be like Nana, to have something that is left behind that speaks to others, compels me to find my medium.  I'm summoning the courage to look deep inside myself, find the message that God has created me, and only me, to share, and proclaim it.  I want to create and invest so that others may hear from me, even when my life on earth ceases.  Today, I'm thankful that we have opportunities to leave pieces of us behind, that we can express ourselves to those precious future generations that we won't have the pleasure of meeting.

We miss you already, Nana L.  Rest in peace.

Drawing for Non-Artists...

...is the title of an art class that I took this summer.  All of you who know me know that art is not really my thing.  Or at least I've never seen it as my thing.  So I was quite surprised, or really more like shocked, when Dave presented me with the class folder and paperwork and told me that the art class was a Mother's Day gift.  At first, I didn't even want to accept the gift.  Considering the fact that I hated coloring as I child, I kind of resigned myself to the fact that I would never be an artist.

It felt like a big step for me to show up at the first class, but I managed to make it there with an open mind.  During the six classes, I learned some basic drawing theory (who knew that a drawings's focal point shouldn't be located at the center of the drawing!), made some new friends, and faced my fear of being totally uncreative and boring.  And my drawings weren't horrible!  In most cases, you can actually tell what I was trying to draw.

For our fourth class, we were to complete an expressionist drawing.  Our instructor told us to bring an object or photo to class and gave us a short explanation of expressive artwork.  She said that artists would often choose a situation or photo and then distort or exaggerate some aspect of the subject to express the feelings that the artist attaches to the subject.  She showed us several examples of expressive pieces from a textbook, including a painting of a streetlight.  I loved how the streams and the brightness of the light contrasted with the dark sky.  I loved how the light was winning against the dark.

So I decided to look for a photo of a fountain.  I was hoping to emphasize the size and number of drops of water to express the life, joy, and abundance that I associate with a fountain.  You might imagine how frustrated I was when I was unable to find a photo that matched the image in my mind.  When I finally exhausted my internet search, I noticed a magazine on our dining room table.  As I was flipping through it, I discovered Jon Warren's image of several women and children carrying water through a dry land in the early morning.  Right away, I knew that this was what I wanted to draw.

I hurried to class with the magazine and my art supplies.  As I sat down to draw, I intended to emphasize the rays and the brightness of the sun, symbolizing hope in the midst of a tedious and wearying, but necessary, task.  But as I continued, I found that the only thing that I felt compelled to express was the truth about these real people and their predicament.

The most important thing that I learned during my art class is that you need to look intently at something before you can draw it correctly.  You have to study your subject.  You can't look away because you're distracted or have too little time, or because you're disturbed by what you find as you investigate.  Your discoveries may alter your artwork, your thinking, or even your life.

So, how specifically did this situation result in a marathon registration, fundraising, and this blog?  You'll have to keep reading for the continuation of this story.