I had a teaching gig in New Hartford, CT this weekend. Such a great group of women. Lots of laughter and smiles. I drove home after class today and upon my arrival home my body was just spent. Brought my mother home who fends for my animals when I’m away, and now I am crashing.
I think there is a 20/20 on tonight, cannot remember if it’s tonight or last night. Will be nice to relax and enjoy some quality television.
I sit in my house, paint, and am isolated particularly in the winter. I question my existence, I question my talent, I question my career… and then after I teach my self esteem, self confidence is restored and I question how I could ever question my work. I love seeing the smiles on faces when students are painting. I love it when they “venture out or go outside the box” and change the design and LIKE what they did! They have allowed their own creativity to flow. They have put down the dagger of fear and picked up their paintbrush with confidence, with pleasure, with contentment.
Women need other women. No matter how “good” or “supportive” the men in our life are, we need to spend time with other like minds. The best laughter I have ever had was with my sisters, my brother followed by time with girlfriends. The majority of us “get” each other.
I sit tonight, in peace, with satisfaction, with pride that I taught a great class. After all the years of teaching I still get nervous before the class, I question whether I will succeed or fail… Truth is, so far I’ve haven’t failed, so why do I fear it? And if I wasn’t at my best, I should rest assured that decorative artists are so kind, caring, giving. They would pitch in and help me…because that’s what they do. I am grateful for my work. I am grateful for the talent that was given me at birth, and I’m grateful to share this with others, to offer a helping hand, confidence to others. Joy.
When I think of what I have accomplished on my own I wonder how I could ever doubt my stamina, my motivation. I wonder how I got through the difficult years after Jim & I split, when I was teaching mere days after breast reconstruction surgery out of need. I question how I traveled 2-3 weekends of a month, and come home to teach 3-5 classes a week in my studio. I’m 10-15 years older, I’m tired, but my love for art is still strong. My need to create, likewise, and the feeling of accomplishment following teaching is, indeed, still present.
Still, with all of this, it feels wonderful to come home, kick off my shoes, change into comfy lounging clothes, sit and take a big sigh of relief. Home, home…there is no place like home.