Most Artists are used to spending long days in solitude. I, myself, am quite reclusive. I have romanticized being a hermit on more than one occasion. And so I create work for myself, with messy hair I haven’t brushed in days and wearing paint splattered comfy clothes with chunky wool socks. I barely come up for air. When I’m forced to emerge from my studio, usually to buy groceries, it’s a bit of a shock. I struggle with loneliness and connection, yet I yearn to be alone. My paintings and recently published children’s book ‘Sammi’s Worry’ are my way of connecting with you on a deep and meaningful level. Sometimes I wonder though, is anyone out there? Has my offering mattered?
A couple of weeks ago a complete stranger came to my house to buy something I was selling. An hour later we were standing at the top of my driveway hugging and crying. We’d spent the last hour touring my home gallery and working art studio. We chatted about turning 50, motherhood and children’s anxiety. We read my new book about childhood anxiety together, clutching at a box of tissues. It mattered she told me. And I felt that profoundly. When she was leaving she said, “I’ll never forget this day. I’ll never forget meeting you.” I felt the same way. And I thought about her all afternoon. I too will never forget that meaningful meeting and connection we had. My offering mattered. And I don’t mean that in a self-serving way. I mean, someone needed my words, my art, and my voice. Thank you dear Lorraine. Our hearts needed each other and your impact has been immeasurable.
I remember listening to a program on CBC radio many years ago about taking care of the creatives in your life – the writers, the poets, the painters. For we are a sensitive bunch, putting our hearts on the line every day. Know that if you have ever emailed me, or wrote me a letter or emailed me after seeing my art at a show – it mattered. I send my art out into the world to knock on your heart’s door, and I thank you for answering.
