In the Sanctuary of Women

I am bone tired, wondering if I can put one foot in front of the other and curious if the fog in my head will ever lift.  This past week we said a final good bye to my Mother.  After months of caring for her we gathered to pay tribute to a generous, elegant, southern lady who also happened to be my number one fan.  

There were days I spent with her that I longed to paint or create or at least get my hands busy doing something "normal."  Art wants to emerge even under strange circumstances.  

This is a photo from my visit to the castle in Umbria.  It was one of those scenes that stayed with me...such a clutch of strength and intertwining and yet delicate as well ...even the swing hanging from a branch was a detail vivid in my mind.  I kept going back to this memory, not sure why, but I could feel its power whenever someone reached out, literally or figuratively, to assist in the care of Mom. 

I found my way to a few supplies (left in my backpack from sketching trips); I cobbled together a drawing board from a cardboard box and borrowed painters tape from the handyman.  Pencils and pens and a few moments here and there to doodle helped distract me and refuel me.  I realized that once again I was calling upon this scene of endurance.

This is what eventually emerged...I know it is rather cartoonish and I am itching to re-paint it in a more serious vein.  But I realized that the photo I took was really a metaphor for those folks we depend on, our sanctuary of friends, the ones who hold us up, whose roots are all tangled up with ours, whose minor differences are almost invisible when we all stand together for good.  I just let my thoughts direct my pen and my art critic for once was silent.  It was therapy, it was healing.  My mothers sanctuary of friends was surrounding us with their love and help just as mine was sending vibes of strength and support.

Art as therapy was a new experience, I hope others will sometimes allow the heart to direct the hand and tell the head to be quiet. It may serve an art purpose totally unexpected.  

Always Art FULL,

Cindy

Therapeutic powers of art

My mother shared this story about the pastel painting above which I loaned her for the hallway of the place where she lives:

"There is a gentleman who lives in our building and I see him often coming and going

to eat.  He never speaks to anyone and appears to be very lonely and

in his own world...oblivious to most everything and everyone around him.

Your painting was leaning against the wall near the elevator when I approached and

noticed him looking at it closely, his head cocked to the side to see it

properly.  I smiled, picked it up, got on the elevator and he got

on with me, all the while looking at the large painting I had.

"Those girls are Mexican, aren't they?" he tentatively questioned.  When I replied yes, they

were, he smiled.  "My parents took me to Mexico," he said quietly, "when I was a little boy,

about 8 or 10 years old." 

For the next several floors he quietly told me about the trip...probably more conversation

than he had had with anyone since he moved in."  I was amazed....the

painting touched something in him and suddenly he wanted to share it...with a

stranger. Regardless of who else sees it, your painting has already

provided some "therapy" for this gentleman.  Thanks for letting

us hang it.   love, Mom"

Wow...this painting, beautifully framed, was in a closet at home.  It hadn't found a buyer and I had sentimental reasons for not destroying it.  Little did I know that it had a different purpose and just needed to get to the right location.  Sharing your art can provide some priceless benefits.