Cold and flu season is still alive and kicking in Vermont, as I learned all too well this past weekend.
Having known for a while that I would be on my own this week, I had been looking forward to delving into a growing list of projects that have been sitting on the sidelines for months. Being laid low by the flu wasn’t part of the equation, but as they say: “The best laid plans…”
However, I can’t complain. Once I felt well enough to get my head up off the pillow, I could get back to work — of a fashion. One of my goals was to devote a solid portion of time to drawing, & it has still been possible to follow through, albeit at a slower pace and within a more limited scope. But the bottom line is the work was there, ready and waiting, once I could sit up.
I often think about how art is with us for life. It sticks by our side through thick or thin, no matter the circumstances. You just have to find a way to allow it to come through.
Food for thought: Frida Kahlo began painting while bedridden after a horrendous accident when she was 18. By using an easel that was modified to allow her to paint from a reclining position, she was able to persevere for the rest of her life, even while recovering from countless surgeries and being confined within a body cast. Henri Matisse, coped with chronic illness the last 14 years of his life, yet at the same time began a brilliant new chapter in his career with his “Cut-Outs”. And Chuck Close has stated that the learning disabilities of dyslexia and prosopanosia (the inability to remember faces) drove him to paint portraits. Becoming suddenly paralyzed in 1988 pushed his work to new heights in his quest to adapt to his limited movement. These are just three examples of artists whose work never faltered despite debilitating illness or disability, and whose genius perhaps became all the more apparent because of it. The drive to keep working was greater than the obstacles presented to them.
That said, a little stomach bug barely merits mentioning, but my point is — regardless of your stature, the work is there for all of us — waiting to adapt in whatever way needed. You just have to give it the go-ahead.
– With gratitude to Lola, patient model, who endured several days in a row without a walk.
Your studies have beautifully captured Lola’s understanding, patience and loyalty. A “blue ribbon” to you as well.
Thank you David. She’s been great company this week.
Another wonderful reading. I love the line about art sticking by our side through thick and thin and we have to find a way to let it out. We both got hit at the same time but my time was not as productive or useful as yours. You drew beautifully with wonderful lines that really conveyed her devotion to you and knowing her job was to stick by you. Dianne
I hope that today you are one step closer to being through this bug. I have no doubt you’ll be figuring out a way to keep your hands busy as soon as you can.
Beautiful Lola…wonderful quality of line in these drawings. I love the way Lola could nap while you went down the rabbit trail!
Thanks Pam – there’s a certain bliss to being a pooch.
Ahhh… bad timing, crappy luck!
Good to see your spirit and focus redoubled….It warmed my heart knowing that through all this your girl, Lola, stayed by your side and out of your ill-haze came beautiful drawings….
C’est la vie. It probably worked out for the best as it forced me to slow down and to not try to juggle so much. Lola shoulders her responsibilities as family pooch well; I’m sure Winston would have been happy to do the same for you!