Read my Latest Watercolour Blog Titled ”Creativity Genetics and Other Gifts from G-d”
“A Work of Love” 15x22” Working to combine landscape and abstract technique.
Was rereading this blog from 2014 about Dad earlier today (it’s posted below), something I had written when he moved into the seniors home on the west coast and I had moved out there as well. And again, so much has changed.
He’s been gone for over three months now, that man that seemed so much larger than life, who in the end was as fragile as the rest of us. People in my community say over and over to me, “May his memory be a blessing.” And it turns out that this blessing is full of truth.
Dad was not the best father, something he admitted to me shortly after he moved into the seniors home, when I came alone for a visit. It came with an apology that I will never forget, so rare were those kinds of words from him. But it changed a lot between us, and even as his memory got worse, the visits were lighter for both of us, like a cloud had lifted.
And I realize now that despite his anger, abuse, and mental struggles, his memory is truly a blessing. It’s harder to recall the things he did that were wrong, and much easier to think on the things that were right and good.
One of the traits I got from him was no doubt my artistic ability. Dad could certainly draw and did spend part of his career as a mechanical engineer drawing designs for various things. And sometimes when I was growing up, he would sit down with me while I was making art and draw something too, a horse or a portrait. Wish I had one of those now, but he didn’t keep them. And I remember he was always proud of my talent. And beaming when I had my first solo art show.
So now, when I get bogged down in my painting, which happens once in a while, especially when I choose to do something large with a lot of detail (see below) I will take Dad as inspiration to keep going. I can imagine him sitting at the next table in my art room working on one of his own drawings. And when I come up with something new, a new idea for how to paint a landscape or incorporate abstract technique (see above), I will give G-d the credit, Who passed on to me my father’s racing mind of ideas and a little of his creativity too.
Love you, Dad.
Baruch Hashem…
“Mount Robson” 22x30” Lots of detail slowing me down. Hopefully will finish this week.
Dad, 1940's
"I am about to do something new,
Even now it shall come to pass,
Suddenly you shall perceive it:
I will make a road through the wilderness
And rivers in the desert."
(Isaiah 43:19)
Returned yesterday from a final trip to Calgary... to pack up Dad's things, clean a house that he and Mom shared for almost 30 years, and bring him with us to the coast, where he is spending his first day in a senior's care home. In the process of cleaning, there were boxes and boxes of photos to go through, and a pile of memories to sift, ponder, and revisit. It was difficult to say the least, sometimes emotional, always cathartic.
Looking through Dad's history in these pictures, and comparing them to the man he is now... old, frail, angry, confused, and childlike... I have been wondering, who is the true person? What is the core of who he really is? And is there any knowing the heart of the man?
Dad, 1954
Tentative thoughts tell me that he was and is, on some level, all his different manifestations, and yet none of them. He is, and we are, what we allow ourselves to become. The shape of our character is determined by how much we let either fear or trust lead the way. As I see Dad settling into a life that is now largely against his will, the man who always sought control finds himself in a place where he has no control at all. Yet, despite the reality of his present anger, walking through his life in pictures this week made it possible to see the father I knew and the father I didn't know.
So what does this have to do with my art? As I see my own life taking turns I didn't expect or anticipate, some welcomed and others not, I realize I have two choices: to be led by fear or be led by trust. Even as I settle into a new home on the coast and come before the paints and canvas, I must trust the voice within and trust the work to show the way. The work is calling for a new freedom, a challenge to step out of the comfort zone, a step into a creative new way, and a deeper intimacy that calls for more honesty, more revelation. Greater trust and less fear.
As I watch my father spend the last part of his life in the way that he does, I am reminded of the person, the woman, and the artist, I want to be: one who is always learning, growing and discovering. And may my art always be evolving evidence of that journey.
Dad and me, somewhere in my 20s...
