In this mornings blog I said that I was going to really think about what fills my bucket. I actually began thinking about that a day or two ago when my daughter told me about her “garden” experience. Today I remembered something I had forgotten. I remembered a painting class I took. I wasn’t a child but a busy mom with lots of children.
I had a friend who was a painter and gave lessons. I decided to take some classes. I went once a week to her studio. I LOVED it. I am not sure what it is that I love about it. But I love painting. I am a mediocre painter at best. I may never be very good but I don’t care. I like the feeling of putting color on a blank canvas.
Only a few short months after I started taking lessons my friend moved away. I tried painting at home but I was using oils at the time and invariably a child would touch it to see if it was dry and then wipe away the evidence of their discretion on whatever was closest. I eventually just gave it up.
A few years ago one of my daughters was hurt very badly in a car wreck. I went to live with her for about five months while she healed and learned to walk again. During that time I searched for anything that would help her brain heal as she had sustained some injury to that part of her body. One of the things I choose was painting. A picture I painted at that time was of a lake with trees and a cabin and sand and large boulders in the foreground. It was just done on a small sheet of paper.
It has been in my closet for about four years now. Recently I got it out and thought I would put it into a small frame and hang it in my bedroom, not because it is good but because I painted it and I had so much fun doing it.
My husband, bless his heart, had it enlarged, really enlarged, and framed for my birthday. It now hangs on the main wall in our living room for everyone to see. Yikes. You can now see all the little imperfections. He doesn’t care, he loves that painting. He said it reminds him of me and the cabin he wants to have. I love it too because whenever I look at it I remember how fun it was to paint it.
So now I know that occasionally I should paint because it makes me happy, it is exhilarating and I love it. We all need to know what fills our bucket. We don’t have to be good at it, we just have to love it.
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