The Significance Of The Day…

Lilacs in bloom. Bursting off branches in abundance of pale purple. This season of bloom seems particularly full of fragrance and bounty. Large oval clusters boasting Vermont spring. I once thought the fragrance of lilacs existed only at our family home where I once ran up the hill towards 665 Adams Street and past Kramer’s farm. I have found that the sweet aroma floats over my path now as well.

I made my way along our newly paved road early one morning this past weekend thinking of the work I had left undone for my upcoming solo art exhibition. I have worked hard. I always work hard but did I have enough? Have I said what I wanted to say in this exhibit? A painting or two will not make the walls as I hang the show this week. One painting that I had hoped to finish will need to wait for another exhibit another time. Hopefully there will be one.

Shifting and moving pieces. Deciding what to include and what not to exhibit. Cutting some pieces to allow for new work. Exhibition labels. Labeling paintings. Bio and an inventory list. A guest book has also been requested.

June 1st opening. No reception but I will pop in and out. I wish to observe those who view my work. Possibly comment on what they see. How long will they spend looking? Really looking. Thinking about the whys and hows. Quick and energetic brush strokes. Unusual color choices to express the usual. Compositions, a variety thereof. Painting conventions challenged. My own questionable painting conventions also challenged…

Why the many dancers? Unfinished faces. The unheard voices of women in quiet reflective moments. The influence of seeing Baryshnikov dance at the Lincoln Center will not be made obvious. I was young and seated next to my mom. Strength and movement. Grace under pressure made a lasting impression. Stampeding horses. More strength and movement in larger scale. Once a rider and competitor with knowing brushstrokes. Flowers and Vermont scenes. Exaggerated colors. Bold and expressive. An interpretation and not illustration.

Months ago, while deciding when I wanted to have my exhibit while reviewing the offered options, I chose sooner than later but more importantly I selected the month of June. The exhibit will open on what would have been my mother’s birthday. The date jumped out at me as the significance of the day belongs to her and her alone. My mom was an incredible writer and painter. Stories came easily to her but went no further than the lined paper she penned them on. Cherished tray paintings and watercolors now in the possession of her grateful and loving family. Opportunity to pursue the arts was limited so I have tried to run with her dream…

                  “Dreams are illustrations… from the book your soul is writing about you.” – – Marsha Norman