Why Write, Why Blog, Why Paint?


I’m only speaking from my experience here,  but when you lose someone close to you unexpectedly — whether it’s a boyfriend or spouse or child or a parent — it’s amazing how therapeutic you can find the everyday things in life. The simple things. At least that was true for me. Although you’d never know it now, following the death of someone that I love, I begin to work in the yard. I grew things  from seed, I made my own potting soil by mixing vermiculite and three other things I can’t even recall now.  I was the only 23-year-old in the garden section of Lowe’s  every morning at 8 a.m., but it helped me learn to trust God again. I planted 35 hostas around the tree in my backyard in one weekend before I even realized that hostas won’t thrive in my soil, so then I started all over again.

And I also turned to painting. At three in the morning when you can’t sleep and you have all these “what if’s” and “maybe I should have’s” running around in your head, picking up a brush seemed to quiet that. And when I had successfully repainted every room in my house five times — and I’m not joking, the two little girls I kept could come in in the morning and never know what color the walls may be — I turned to painting everyone else’s house. People used to laugh when they would ask me if I love to paint and I would respond, “No, I actually hate it.”  They didn’t realize that I was serious. It was just something I inherited, a talent I was born with, a genetic gift from my mother that I never really even paid attention to until I was grown. I never took an art class in my life — that seems impossible now — but I was too busy with Speech and Theater. Art just didn’t interest me.  Still, it wasn’t so much the end result of painting that I liked or even the process,  it was what it gave me personally — peace of mind. Stillness of thoughts.

Like most artistic people, I enjoy the gift that art gives an overactive mind. Whether that is writing, painting, or music. Whenever I get confused about my place in this world, I pick up a brush. That’s much better than picking up a bottle.

So thanks for your interest in my pieces. There is nothing quite like planting a seed and watching it grow to remember that everything is as it should be and there’s nothing quite like doing a simple task and doing it well to remind you that God is still good and in control.

Thanks for being a part of my healing!