This summer has been rewarding for me, as the mark of the first summer that I spent time on a new hobby.  I think that my family probably wishes that I did not discover painting, but I do, indeed, love to paint.  I am but a hobby-ist right now, but I can put all my attention into a canvas, and definitely churn out a painting….  From start to finish, in about a month.  It is something I think that I didn’t know or understand as a child and student, even when I was being pre-occupied with the more “artsy” and “socially-oriented” subjects, like music, literature, and drama.  These already allowed me to express my more artistic self without much loss, without much missing.

So, as I attended the first class, nervously wondering if I had everything that I needed, I was surprised that Night School for Adult Learners, is very relaxed.  The place, usually a school during the day for teenagers, becomes a classroom full of art, color, instruction, and usable tools for the trade of painting.  The talk and conversation is surprisingly mature and it is as if we all followed the stream to this place of enlightenment.  Suddenly, a visit to the Art Gallery is much more interesting than the thoughts I had in the past while walking by all the talent.

One of the first subjects we tackled, was the issue, “What do you paint?”  We started listing things that we see all the time: portraits, still life, and landscapes.  Then, there were the more modern, and some would say, more experimental objects, like a lily flower, the foyer of a cafe, a pile of old shoes and boots, and surreal dreams.  Then, the big discussion, “What do you think abstract paintings are about?”  This took us a moment, but then, the thoughts came: irony, balance, color, strength, pride, honor, desire.  Armed, within the first twenty minutes of the class, with these beautiful words that describe painting and visual art, we became more certain that we could do this class.  That we knew how to be painters and visual artists.

This class took me into the summer.  I was very excited, as the end of June approached.  I dreamed of the beauty of our cottage just by the lake.  I dreamed of this beauty with the imagination of someone unsullied by failure or disappointment.  I took time to “picture” the scene, and I started imagining the mixing of paint, to create color, and then, the big decision, should I create texture by adding a gel medium to my paints?  To build leaves of grass that could stand up, and ridges into the wood used to build the house….  I dreamed, and I dreamed.

Then, the first weekend at the cottage arrived.  I packed everything I needed into the car.  Easel, canvas, palette, brushes, and paint.  Everything, including my husband and my children, arrived safely….  I was ready to just jump into my painting clothes and start!  We use our cottage all year round, so there was no need to undo anything and set anything up….  I started to move all my material and instruments out to the back sun room where there is a perfect view of the backyard leading down to the lake.  The sun was still out upon our arrival, and I stood there a moment, deep breathing the scene inside.

It is the most precious moment I have of the this particular view.  To walk into a strength of beauty after a long ride in the car is utterly amazing.  It is like taking that first deep breath on the morning after a big snowfall.  My breath rushes down, and I forget that I breathe.

So, being flexible in work, not only did I have weekends to spend absorbed by my new hobby, I spent up to a week, one week this summer, just lost in painting and relaxing by the small piece of space that most feels like home.  It has been rewarding.  I may not be able to paint the Mona Lisa, but I am able to capture that beauty, that she is associated with.

We have also partly re-decorated the cottage walls.  Taking down anonymous paintings of terrestrial beauty, to be replaced by my own exploration of beauty and meaning.  I am looking forward to the start of the night classes again.  I am already planning what it is I will paint.  Perhaps, still life, this time.  I would want to try to get a painting finished before the fruit rots and the flowers wilt.

I think about ironic things too.  If I can get enough of my paintings together, I would want to have a gallery show, somewhat along the lines of Virginia Woolf‘s style of publishing.  I would have a “Vanity Show,” where my work would be displayed only for as long as I could rent the space, rather than as one of the Gallery’s standard list of artists.  And suddenly, I could find people who could like my work.  Just like writers want to be read, so, visual artists want to be seen.

I am spending the last week of summer trying to title my two paintings.  I have a million titles, but it is hard for me to find a title I love.  And, very silly of me, I think I am purposely taking all this time, to see if I can come up with as many suitable titles as I can.

And so, as I imagine one day being able to paint the thrill of riding in a convertible down the highway, just like I imagined painting the quiet beauty and strength of a view of the lake, I like to imagine that I can do it.