Bittersweet or Nostalgic? Grateful it is…
Organizing my art studio was long overdue. I was looking down the barrel of cleaning procrastination and decided to dive in and get it done…
Canvas in varying sizes and stages of completion were precariously leaning on most available corners. Evidence of recent commissions neatly piled on my art table in the center of the studio. My magical Mary Poppins art canvas bag rested in the same place as when I last tossed it. Tubes of paint, brushes, charcoal, printed images, masking tape and whatever else I thought my students might need spilled out onto a protective drop cloth. Still life objects that my students both loved and loathed housed in cardboard boxes. Giclee prints of professional women runners and black and white moose prints occupy a specific area of my studio. Charcoal portrait studies of my granddaughter were spread out over the hickory studio floor in various stages of completeness. I love my studio…
Old work. New work. Painting experiments that remain somewhere in the in-between. Canvas sorted by medium. Acrylic or oil. Pieces to be repurposed as their “purpose” has yet to be determined. Going through the stacks felt nostalgic or was it bittersweet?
“Bittersweet grabs you by the heart and doesn’t let go.” — Brene Brown, author of Atlas of the Heart
The bulk of my current inventory has been created in my adopted home of Vermont. The small number of pieces remaining from my early painting years now occupy only the first stack of canvas. My studio space has dramatically changed over the many years. From employing a dining room in our first home, a sunroom in London, converting a bonus room in our family home to designing the studio space in our now current home. I felt nostalgic …
“Nostalgia is also a dangerous form of comparison. Think about how often we compare our lives to a memory that nostalgia has so completely edited that it never really existed.” ― Brene Brown
I stopped moving canvas from point A to point B to just take a moment. Overwhelmed by the large canvases being mixed and mingled to sort my creative world. I plopped down on a soft oversized buttery yellow colored corduroy hassock that had made several moves with me. I ran my right hand over the dust of charcoal from a recent drawing. The hard work of many years was tangible. My eyes and heart rested on the various compositions as I remembered painting each piece…
“I don’t have to chase extraordinary moments to find happiness — it’s right in front of me if I’m paying attention and practicing gratitude.” Brene Brown
