use your imagination here
For Mother’s Day, my lovely daughter gave me a wonderful gift. We spent an evening together at a studio painting a picture of the flatirons. Now, I’ve never painted anything on canvas before, so this was a brand new experience for me.
As a child, I loved those paint-by-number paint sets I seemed to get at Christmas time. I painted plenty of horses in a meadow and other things I can’t remember, on velvet … but never on canvas.
The owner of the studio’s daughter, was a girl I recognized as one of my kindergarten students more than twenty years ago. She immediately recognized me as her kindergarten teacher and was amazed that I remembered her and her name. It would of been fun if she was the instructor for the evening, but she wasn’t.
I consider myself to be a very creative person … you know, the artsy/craftsy kind. The other thing about me is that I’m a perfectionist, so I knew this may pose a bit of a challenge in the two hour period.
Everything was going smoothly until the teacher shouted out that it was time for us to finish up and go, since he was closing. I still had to finish my path, more green shrubs, and all of the flowers! This is when I went from “Oh, this is so cool, working at my turtle pace,” to … “Oh my god! I need to rush and splat down the paint so I can walk out with a finished product!”
My daughter’s painting was gorgeous! It showed the carved edge of the flatiron mountains, and the delicate petals of all her dainty meadow flowers. None of which I was able to achieve. As a matter of fact, I admire these very mountains right outside my window every day, and yet I completely froze and forgot what they actually looked like!
My painting is more like a Monet, meant to be admired from afar. It’s grown on me, and I actually love it!
All in all, it was a very good experience for me since it took me out of my comfort zone. Best of all, was the time I was able to spend with my amazing daughter.
My painting will be proudly hung in my sewing/craft studio at home. A reminder that everything doesn’t have to be perfect in order to be enjoyed.
Thanks, and I love you Diane!
