Hey, I know her!

A few years ago, I started painting my neighborhood. Well, the people in my neighborhood. Extending from my house to the shops up the street and down to the downtown corridor, anyone was fair game. If you happened to be standing on the corner looking particularly interesting, there was a good chance I was going to ask to snap your photo and paint you!

I’ve continued to paint the locals. This year, focusing on a local coffee shop and their clientele. But the same rules apply, if you happen to be sipping your coffee and catch my eye, you might just get painted.

This way of painting has introduced me to so many people in our city. Kids, moms, entrepreneurs, first responders, volunteers, and pastors. It’s expanded my heart and my love for this area. But it’s also done something else. It’s included you!

I exhibited some of my portraits at a local artisan event downtown a few weekends ago. For the first time, I mainly included paintings of locals. The number one comment I heard was, ‘Hey, I know that girl/guy/person/mailman!’ There’s real beauty in connection. Even if it’s between a person on the canvas and the one outside of the canvas.

How lovely to be seen and recognized and known!

Feeling Seen, Through Art

One of my heart’s desires as an artist is to make people feel seen.

Life is busy and mundane, unique and boring, exciting and tedious, and in the middle of all that life, we can sometimes disappear. Between work, relationships, cleaning, car maintenance, birthday parties, church and doctor’s appointments we can at times feel like we’ve simply vanished into the swirling lines and shapes that make up the pattern of our life.

But art pauses the chaos. Just for a moment.

While you’re standing in front of that painting, or sculpture, or beautifully stitched quilt you can reappear for a minute. See a part of you reflected in the creation before you. Corners of your heart that have been buried under activity can resurface and remind you of who you are.

That’s my aim with every portrait I paint. I want you to know that I see you. You are beautiful. You are known. You are loved.

Art did that for me a few months ago.

I went to visit a precious friend in North Carolina, and because she shows her love by seeing and knowing, she took me to the Biltmore House. If beauty is high value to you, this place will make your head explode and your heart melt.

But it wasn’t the gorgeous rooms, majestic chandeliers, or perfectly manicured grounds that made me feel seen and known.

It was Claude.

I was walking in front of my friend, listening to the self-guided tour on the little hand-held speaker, when the voice said, ‘And in this room we have original Monet paintings.’

Right in front of me. I was standing right in front of Monet’s beautiful work. I had no idea they were part of this home’s art collection! I was amazed, delighted, speechless.

But that wasn’t the best part.

The best part was turning around, with tears of joy and surprise, to see my friend watching me and smiling- knowing all along that this room contained those treasures. Treasures that I would delight in. Treasures that would touch my heart. She knew.

And in that moment, art gave the give of being known. The gift of being seen.

'Home'?

‘Home’ has been an awkward term for me for a long time. I’ve moved over 20 times in my lifetime, 17 of them in my 24 years of marriage. So, ‘home’ feels elusive and hard to grasp. But now and then there are moments when my hearts whispers to me ‘this is home’.

When I’m walking down the street and someone calls my name and says hello. That feels like home.

When I’m talking to someone and realize we’ve lived in or visited the same places. That feels like home.

When I share a memory or have history with someone. That feels like home.

When I pull into the driveway of my current home, number 20-something, and the first one we’ve ever owned. This is starting to feel like home.

The city we’ve put roots into over the last four years, Medford. It’s starting to feel like home.

We have neighbors and are neighbors.

We have family down the road.

We’ve made friends.

We have meaningful work in meaningful communities.

And the art part of my heart is flourishing. I’m inspired everyday by the beautiful people that make up the city of Medford. Especially those in my own neighborhood. And that is why I’ve created 18 paintings this year of my neighbors. My beautiful, hard-working, inspiring, West Medford neighbors.

They make this place feel like home.

Come celebrate this place I call home with me and my neighbors next month at Central Art Gallery here in downtown Medford. During Medford’s Third Friday Art Walk from 5:00-8:00 on November 18th I will be exhibiting my West Medford paintings. All are welcome! All are wanted. I hope all of you feel….at home.

I Love It When They Cry

Do you ever watch Devon Rodriguez, the trending Tiktoker who draws people on the NYC subway? My favorite part of his videos is when he hands the drawing to the person. Often they cry. Why is that?

I have a few theories…

Surprise. I think we go through our days expecting little in the way of attention and affirmation. To see yourself created in a piece of art is ninja level validation, and it triggers the tear ducts.

Depth is another theory. Words only express so much. At some point we have to sing, or jump, or write poetry, or cry. When something hits us in those tender places in our hearts, tears appear.

And lastly, beauty. Beauty gets us every time. It’s visceral, emotional, overwhelming.

That’s why I love a teary response when I hand over a commissioned piece of art. It tells me that my small efforts of capturing on the canvas the worth of a person has possibly paid off. My prayer is that beauty and affirmation will always be part of the portrait painting process.

It Was a Great Day

Covid-19 reared it’s ugly head in March, just ahead of the 70th birthday party we had planned for my Dad. So, we waited. Until August. We thought, at the time, that we had ‘flattened the curve’ and all was well. In reality, we just had a small window of time to enjoy a belated birthday picnic in the backyard before the next wave hit. I’m so thankful we did.

It was a great day. Dad is worth celebrating and 70 is a big deal. We ate and laughed and reminisced and took pictures.

This painting is based off of one of those pictures. It brings me joy. He brings me joy. Backyard picnics with people I love bring me joy. And painting portraits brings me joy.