|Edvard Munch, The Scream|
I should have one of those carefree hair styles, one that the more you shake your head, the better it becomes. I would be the prettiest girl in town. Instead, I have a carefree hair style that does not move no matter how hard I shake my head. It does respond well to having my fingers run through it and the palms of my hands pressed up against it when I am in shock or utter horror. I could have modeled for Edvard Munch, really, I could have.
The day that I reluctantly brought my latest piece of art to the Cultural Center, it was teaming with rain. I've been so busy with a multitude of other projects lately and honestly had not prepared anything for entrance into the show so I grabbed an older acrylic off the bathroom wall, freshened it up a bit, threw a plastic bag over it and took off to fulfill my duty as a volunteer, registering beautiful works of art done by other, more talented members of the Yarmouth Art Guild. I left mine in the car. I felt embarrassed to bring it in. It didn't even meet the gallery hanging requirements! One by one, pieces arrived and in passing, I mentioned how I was happy to have not put my fellow Guild members through the agony of having to reject mine. And then came the encouragement. "Go out and get it from your car!! And I did. And they were complimentary. What could they say? So, later in the day, when I got a call from the Guild president, I was certain she was going to tell me to come and pick up my rejected work but instead, she delighted in telling me that I had won and Honorable Mention and that the judge loved my painting. Hands up to head, utter shock and disbelief.
This is not a story about a hair style, nor is it about an art show or an artist. This is about the Universe, once again speaking clearly to me. I named my painting. I called it "I Can See the Light Now". I did not know then, two weeks ago, how this would become a cornerstone, how that clarity would become so meaningful.
Tonight, we are leaving for Italy. While we've made this trip many times before, this truly is anticipated to become one of the most special. We're meeting our son and his wife in Rome. Neither has been to Italy so we are looking forward to la prima volta and hoping that they will be as thrilled to be with us as we will with them. Our plans for this trip, one during which we will celebrate my husband's 70th birthday, have changed several times. The Universe spoke again, and we all decided that what we really want is to relax and enjoy art, the country-side, and days of new adventures so we're taking them to Tuscany to live a few days of the Italian Spring. In anticipation of our journey, I wanted to refresh my memory. It's been three years since our last Italian voyage. So, I pulled a book down from the shelf. Joel Meyerowitz. Tuscany, Inside the Light. Starting to see the theme here?
A piece of news, via a cruel text message, just two weeks after my I honorable mention. A dishonor flung in our faces. We can see the light now.
So, we're off and running, ready for light and all the beauty that we know is awaiting us. I'll blog, I promise and we'll keep the lights lit. A presto!