Felix

Painting portraits is my absolute favorite of everything I paint. Mixing colors and seeing globs of paint transform a blank canvas into a recognizable human being is thrilling, even when bad eyesight has me scrambling between cheater glasses and a magnifying glass to get everything painted in the right place. Three years olds are adorable -- that's all there is to it -- and are particularly difficult to paint because their features are so delicate and unformed that it's hard to find shadows on their faces to distinguish one area from another.  This portrait was painted for a grandmother who has commissioned me to paint portraits of all of her grandchildren at the charming age of three. 

Thank you to the friend who encouraged me all those years ago to pick up a paintbrush. Thank you to the friend who, when asked, offers gentle and helpful criticism. And, thank you to the grandmother who trusts me to paint her grandchildren. 

This is a 16" x 20" oil on linen. 

Re-Set

When things go wrong, or right for that matter, the Amazing Reese has a way of putting it all in perspective. He asks, "Do you believe in predestination?" Now, without going down a trail of religious doctrine, Reese's point is do I believe in something beyond my understanding that is guiding how I interact with the world, or conversely, how the world interacts with me? Some people call it fate, or destiny. The idea that some things happen for a reason and sometimes the best thing is to recognize this instead of agonizing over the outcome. I'm mentioning all of this because last week something happened to me for the very first time and it was weird, and disruptive, but ultimately, must have been for good, because no other explanation makes sense. For reasons beyond my understanding, the blog entry that I wrote about my time in Mexico with fellow breast cancer survivors was flagged for removal by google, because it violated their guidelines. (?) Google then re-evaluated the post and said the post was reinstated, but somehow it has disappeared into the great internet abyss, and I'm left with wondering whether to write about my time and impressions of Mexico again, or just leave well enough alone. (?) 

The main reason that I wanted to write about the vacation I just took is that I very much wanted to have a public record of my gratitude for the people who have supported me throughout the last four years as I have crawled, walked, and more recently, run through my breast cancer journey. So many people have contributed in small and big ways -- prayer, notes of encouragement, paying for a house cleaner when I couldn't do my own housework, driving me to appointments, bringing meals, flowers, contributing financially to ease the burden of medical bills, helping me crawl into bed when I was so weak with the effects of chemotherapy that I couldn't even do it myself, loaning (and giving) me books, loaning me passwords so that I could use a Netflix account, loaning me a TV so that I had access to entertainment while recovering in bed, loaning me old movies on dvd, information gathering so that I had access to resources such as the therapist I've been seeing to help me process the trauma of it all, giving me mileage points to buy my plane ticket so that the trip was a blessing and not a burden financially -- there have been SO many people who have helped. me. little ole me. THANK YOU ALL!!!!

So, fully vaccinated, I went on vacation...to Mexico....with fellow breast cancer surviving ladies, and it was lovely. There were 13 of us in total, there was instant camaraderie, and even some fellow HER2 positive breast cancer ladies (four of us.) We compared scars, emotional and physical. We ate together. We reflected together. We relaxed. We shopped. We roamed. We rejoiced and complained. I'm eternally grateful to have had a week to re-set my perspective, reflect on the last few years, and do it with lovely people in a lovely place. 

All 13 of us

P.S. -- the blog entry that I published last week is back! Just using a few extra words here to express my gratitude. 

Sent on Vacation

Puerto Vallarta, Mexico

A year and a half ago, I was granted a breast cancer survivor's vacation to Rome through Send Me On Vacation. As those of you who are regular readers of my blog may remember, to pay for the plane ticket, I sold some paintings, and shopped for the least expensive ticket I could find, and bought it. Then, the entire world shut down because of the highly contagious, new coronavirus that was hospitalizing and killing people by the thousands. The trip to Rome was postponed. And postponed again. And postponed again. And again. It has been postponed so many times that I don't even remember. So when the organization sent out an invitation to attend a trip in Nuevo Vallarta, Mexico, I quickly decided that this trip would be a delightful alternative. (On a side note -- two weeks ago, the money for the plane ticket to Rome was finally credited back to our bank account, which has helped subsidize fees and incidentals while in Mexico. For this trip, one of my dear friends donated his airline miles for the plane ticket to Puerto Vallarta. So grateful.) 

Sayulita, Mexico

Last week, through the resort Vidanta's Ambassador program where Vidanta members donate their weeks and rooms to various charitable organizations, in this case, to Send Me On Vacation, a group of us breast cancer survivors (and one uterine cancer survivor) went to stay at the Vidanta resort in Nuevo Vallarta. Four of us were HER2 positive, though I think (?) I was the only HER2 positive, ER, PR negative. Put it this way, at least no one else spoke about that specific breast cancer diagnosis to me. It was interesting to compare notes on our treatments, disease progression, progress (or lack thereof) and recovery. To go from independence and invincibility to relying on others and weakness is difficult even for the strongest among us. It was helpful for me to see and visit with other ladies who had also gone through chemo, radiation, and surgeries and hear about (and see) their scars, whether physical or emotional. 

On our way to another adventure together, vaccinated and covid free.

It was a special blessing to spend time with new friends with whom I formed an instant bond. As beautiful as our surroundings were, in thinking back on the week, my favorite times were spent with these ladies. We took a taxi together into Puerto Vallarta to the south, and Sayulita to the north, and San Vicente to the east to roam the streets, visit the markets, barter for bracelets, sit in the square, and eat a meal (or a popsicle). In San Vicente, where our taxi driver took us to show us his hometown and buy us a popsicle, we were still at the square when a political parade moseyed down the street! I LOVE Mexico!

Thank you to those of you, friends and strangers, who have prayed for and supported me from the very beginning, when I announced my breast cancer diagnosis on this blog almost four years ago. Looking back on that blog entry, I was naive to think that everything was going to be completed within a year -- little did I know or understand. With each day that passes, I continue to progress toward health and my new normal. I'm grateful for an opportunity to have renewed my spirit through this vacation. I'm exceedingly grateful for the new friends I've met. And, I'm grateful for those of you, dear friends, who continue to love, support, and pray for me, scars and all.

Sunset in Nuevo Vallarta, Mexico

The Pasture with the Trees in the Background

It's always affirming when one of my paintings strikes a note or stirs a memory with a viewer. In this particular instance, a beautiful soul, my friend Lisa, sent me a charming reason why she was so attracted to this particular painting, which, with her permission, I've included below.  

You won’t believe this.... I grew up on a ranch in Oklahoma, and one of my favorite places to stop with my horse to take a break in the shade was in a pasture that had a small stand of trees like yours on the left and then a couple of other trees to the right. It looks exactly like my spot. I would tie my horse to one of the trees and sit in the shade to eat an apple, a bag of Fritos, and have a soft drink choice of the day; Dr. Pepper, Nehi Grape Soda, or Orange Crush. I love to remember sitting with my back against the tree, feeling the soothing, dry breeze, hearing the rustle of the leaves, sharing my apple with my horse, taking in the brilliant blue sky and all of the greenness around me, and imagining what the future might hold, back when life was uncomplicated. These days, when I have grueling medical tests, I practice mental imagery and go back in my mind to my most secure and peaceful places -- this is one of them.

Our ranch was in the foothills of the Ozarks and the land was emerald green in the summer. The colors in your painting bring the vivid green hues and lusciousness of summers at the ranch in Oklahoma back into my mind. It is very moving that it has an uncanny resemblance – number of trees, the approach I used to make on my horse to that location -- it really looks like my stand of trees plus the two spare ones to the side! My family sold the ranch a while back, but if I ever make it for a visit I’ll drive out to that pasture and take a picture to send you. Identical.

My own artist's statement encompasses the belief that art is beauty in ordinary moments. Being gently reminded that life is full of small beauties....as simple as sitting under a copse of trees in the heat of summer, hearing the rustle of leaves in a gentle wind, or noticing an expansive blue sky or lush green pastures is worth capturing in any format, whether in the beautiful prose of a friend, or in a two dimensional format, like a painting. May we all recognize and celebrate that our lives are filled with ordinary beauty, because that, my friends, in my humble opinion, is art.