I cannot draw to save my life. Even my stick figures look rather strange. It is so bad that in high school when it was discovered that Latin was a particular challenge I was encouraged to take art as an alternative. I was happy. How difficult could that be? Also I liked art from a spectator’s point of view. Three weeks into the artistic experiment I was back to Latin with a note which indicated that I cannot be as bad at Latin as I am at art.
I am glad I conquered Latin. However, I still loved art enough to do some art appreciation courses later on. Also, I know without a doubt that I am vital to art and artists. My reasoning is as follows: If everyone was an artist who would appreciate the art? I am definitely in the art appreciation camp. I revere those who can and am first in line to show appreciation.
Fast forward many years and as a result of Alzheimer’s my art has been hung in an art gallery. I can claim to be a curated and hung artist. Will wonders never cease?
I do know my limitations but when it comes to my Bert there are no limits so off I went gallantly with him to art therapy. It was interesting to attend as it was held in a historical home and museum. After the usual tour and tea the project was to create a work that illustrated gratitude, or something for which we were grateful. I decided I would help Bert with his idea and interpretation rather than show my ineptitude. That was not to be. I was told everyone had to produce something.
Bert did not need my help. In no time he had drawn something that looked like a house with a figure in it. He told our wonderful art therapist that it was me at home. He told her that meeting me was the best thing that ever happened to him. Awhh. That’s my Bert.
However, remember I cannot draw period, so I could not return the compliment. I went the modernist route to create a ‘thought’. Yes!
We had paints, canvas, dowels, string, shiny buttons, sequins. My creation was a wall hanging using mixed media. I used a pretty crystal studded button and if you look carefully the squiggly thingie in the middle is embellished with sequins. Yes, even I have trouble with an adequate description of this masterpiece.
So here it is followed by the ‘artist’s note’.
My Gratitude Hanger.
This represents a positive attitude and sunny disposition. The colours are bright, happy, and sunny with sparkly embellishments to represent certain intense moments of happiness.
Friends and family have spoken of my happy outlook. Many have told me that when they are feeling down they call me and know that they will have a brighter outlook afterwards.
Look and you will and see the tears, but they are dominated even overwhelmed by HAPPY and reach upwards to become the streamer of a kite? A bird? Wings?
It was in middle age that I finally realized that this quality so obvious to the people I meet was a wonderful gift. Now I recognize that as a fact and I am immensely GRATEFUL!
Come on stop laughing! It’s not that awful. Maybe it is. When I proudly presented it together with the catalogue, which also featured my work and photographs of the exhibit to our son, he looked at it made a noise that sounded like “Huh!” and said: “Mom, you are a better writer than artist”.
OK, I’ll take that! “Huh!” Everybody is a critic. “Huh!”
The Meander: Look at my big grin and the proud stance of my Bert. Priceless!