What do all of these images have in common? They don't seem to have anything to do with art, do they? Yet they are all connected. One of the challenges of making art for a living is keeping up the momentum. It sometimes feels like the normal (and not-so-normal) events of life get in the way of where we want to go. The favorite necklace that broke a clasp right when I was getting dressed up on Mothers' Day, our beloved Max who got old and very sick when I was creating an important series, the pile of trash generated by damage from a city drain back-up, again, while in the midst of a project, and the not so minor flood on a fellow artist's street. Any of these things can have the power to derail us if we give them that power...if we forget that the very nature of life is that it's full of disruptions. It's how we respond to them that shows our true character and gives us the opportunity to inspire others to persevere.
I don't know about you, but I sometimes get torqued over the stupidest things and then feel a little embarrassed when I realize they're really no big deal compared to someone else's difficulty or when I think of how bad it COULD have been. The necklace was a no-brainer...just wear something else and move on. I admit I was a little bummed out at first. I really wanted to wear that necklace! But by the time I reached church I had forgotten entirely. And that is as it should be.
Max was a different matter. Max adored me. He always seemed to know when I needed comfort and his purr was so loud it always made me smile no matter what else was going on. He would cup his paw in the crook of my elbow and pull on it just when I was about to apply paint to canvas with that arm. I worked a regular full time job back then and so my painting sessions were necessarily late at night. Max simply would not go to sleep at night unless he could curl up under my chin. By the way, if that makes me the neighborhood cat lady, I embrace it wholeheartedly. Max was more loyal than I deserved. I was working on a painting about the time it was clear he would not recover. It's been several years since he left us and I still have not finished that painting. Molly, the cat we have now, won't tolerate being held more than ten seconds at a time, doesn't purr, and I'm not opening the door to find out how loyal she is just yet. I gotta say that if it weren't for Molly, who NEVER interrupts my painting sessions, yet loves me in her aloof sort of way, I might not have realized how blessed I was by Max's unbridled affection. I would welcome his kind of interruptions any day!
Now, about the flood that wreaked havoc in SE Michigan a week and a half ago...
You may have seen it in the news. Severe thunderstorms seemed to suck up a whole lake and dump it out on several cities all at once. What would already have been a good sized calamity was made much worse for some communities whose city officials had neglected maintenance of their storm drain system. Ours was one. We've never had a flooding problem in our basement before because we're at the apex of the street and everything runs off downhill from us. We were not spared this one. We awoke to a burbling sound and discovered a few inches of water pooled up near each drain. You should have seen these two old people fly into action, me bailing water into Home Depot buckets and Wes carrying them up and out to the street almost as fast as I filled them. Someone told us later that this would have been technically ineffective, but it worked somehow, probably because the rain had already stopped and the water soon began to recede anyway. Whatever the reason, we felt fortunate that it wasn't worse, especially when we thought of the folks who live right across from Ecorse Creek. And we were also grateful that my studio is upstairs. As it turned out we lost only our carpeting and a lot of junk we needed to throw out anyway. We're not even filing an insurance claim because we had already planned to get rid of the carpet eventually and we don't want our insurance to go up over such minor damage. But while we were still in the midst of tearing out the carpet ourselves (everyone else was busy tearing out their own carpet) my aching body was in agony. At one point I stopped working, sat on the basement steps rubbing my bum left knee and prayed for help or the strength to go on. Strength was given and we finished the job in two days, just in time to prevent our home from becoming a black mold statistic. It has taken me more than a week to get my stamina back. I'm just now getting back to painting. I've got three projects for other people that are nearing their deadlines and I'll need to work in high gear to get them done....and that's with a fairly minor interruption. Others did nor fare as well.
This morning I had a conversation via text with fellow artist, Elena Adam whose cars (gone now) and house are pictured above. I asked if any of her paintings were damaged. She shared with me that the water flooded in her door and down her basement steps and filled it up to three steps from the top. Her studio was safe though because she'd moved it upstairs after the last flood in 2014 destroyed EVERYTHING in her basement studio; art books, oil paintings, supplies, furniture and more. When I asked how long it was before she was able to get back to painting, she said she was so heartbroken that it took a year to start up again. But start again she did!
A person of lesser character might have given in to despair at this point. But Elena is resilient. Other interruptions and painful losses in her life have taught her to persevere. All you have to do is take a look at the delightful pet portraits she does to know that she will be more than ok.
So....the next time something temporarily prevents you from working on your next masterpiece or anything important to you, be it a necklace, your kitty, or your studio...just take a deep breath, cry on the basement steps if you need to, and pray for the strength to take care of it. Expect that life will bring you flash-floods from time to time. Be strong and ready to start over when the waters recede. Thanks, Elena, for your perseverance.