This weekend has been full of fun. I am hosting my soon-to-be niece’s bridal shower today and there is an abundance of family in town. It has been an opportunity to blend the two families and provide ample time to get to know one another before the wedding in March. But, my “getting to know you” was interrupted with the invitation of going to one of those places where you paint. You know, the place where someone who is artistic will walk you through the steps to help you make your painting look like theirs. Ummm…..that is my nemesis.
The last time I participated in such an event, my mother had just been hospitalized and I was exhausted. I would love for that to be my excuse, but honestly, the whole process of painting brings me tremendous anxiety. Even if it were paint by numbers, I would be teetering on the edge. Writing is my art, painting not even in my realm of things I desire to do. But, I accepted the invitation because it was all about being present.
The particular landscape we were going to paint involved trees and a reindeer. Let me be up front. The last time I painted, it was a Fleur-de-Lis which ended up looking extremely pregnant. I am not kidding. Brian banished it from being on public display. I don’t blame him at all. It currently resides in my writing studio aka she-shed, to remind me that writing is my craft. Not that I really need one. My stick figures are even questionable.
Everyone commented about how relaxing the process was while I found it reminiscent of going to the dentist. But, I did it. I completed it and it sort of looked like the painting we were emulating. This time, Brian didn’t banish it. Well, he just didn’t say anything, but that is progress, right?
Sometimes I can get caught up in my own expectations and lose sight of what the objective is. Sure, everyone else’s paintings looked amazing while mine could have competed in a preschool art fair and still lost, but I did have fun. I did enjoy laughing at my own insecurity. I did feel a sense of accomplishment about showing up and overcoming my anxiety. That doesn’t mean I want to get a membership to one of those places. But, it does mean that somebody is going to wind up with my painting as a gift. I am generous that way.
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