Slowly, slowly making my way back into the studio, Cleaning up the piles of art supplies and ephemera and art books I dragged home from my dad's house. Finding the perfect spot for each one. The studio becomes a treasure trove of goodies to be explored in the future, including a gold mine of romance magazines from the 1930's, ready to become something groovy in a new piece of art.
In a workshop I held two weeks ago, a student showed up with new paints, brushes and a bright smile. She had never (and I mean NEVER) painted before in her entire life. And here she was, ready to try, excited and enthusiastic (and maybe just a little nervous). We were painting pretty large, and on a new type of surface, and completing an entire piece in four hours at a fierce pace. With each step, she persisted. With each new instruction, she didn't hesitate. With quiet, steely determination, she hung in there until the very end of the class.
And she created a beautiful, personal, emotional piece of art.
She didn't know until we were done. Until she stood back, took a breath and paused. And then, like the happily ever after moment of the most exquisitely charming fairytale movie ever created, her face broke out in a huge, heartfelt smile. "I did that!" she said. And so she had.
There is something about just showing up - just saying YES - that ropes the universe into conspiring with us. Rebecca lassoed the moon that day. I want to be like her when I grow up. :)