When I started drawing the Ladies in 2013 I was using pastels. I have a deep love of pastels, but like with everything else I have used I had no idea how to use them, I just loved the way they felt, the way you could draw and then smudge them all around, I loved how soft they were. And I tried lots of different sets of pastels. One that I really loved I found yesterday shoved to the back of a shelf of art supplies that survived the fire (Such totally random things survived, I’ll never be able to figure it out.). I pulled them out and decided to play with them today. They are Charvin Water Soluble Pastel Painting Sticks from Paris. They come in glorious colors and are very affordable. But the thing is I’d forgotten how messy they are, how there is no sense of control with them, and it made me very nervous. I almost stopped, and then I remembered those writing rules I shared a few days ago, “Keep your hand moving…” and I did. And I kept going and going. And then I started with a big paint brush going over it all with water. I just kept going. And then when it dried I got out my black Tombow marker, and I kept going until I couldn’t figure out anything else to do. And then I thought, “What a mess, I can’t share that!” And then of course I knew I had to.
This is the thing, this is a time of process, not finished product. This is a time of experimenting and playing and figuring out what I want to do and how I want to do it. This is not a time to be shy or scared (Or rather of course I will be but I won’t let that stop me.) or to let the inner critic dictate what I will or won’t do, or what is worthy of sharing. The thing is I pretty much have to share it all here because this blog experiment is a journey, it is a daily practice, it is not having perfect days or times or making perfect art, there simply isn’t such a thing as perfect, and if I don’t share the process along the way I won’t be able to appreciate how far I’ve come in the end. And of course there will never be an end as long as I am alive. I will just keep going and growing and learning with every single thing I do. To that end I have made a pact with myself. Each day when I start a piece of art I have to finish it. No matter how messy or disappointing the effort seems I just have to keep on going until I’m done. And then I must bow to the finished piece before me in gratitude for what it has taught me, and surely, it will always have taught me something. I will take what I’ve learned and go forward with the gift of the lesson. And this is true with all of life.
When I started this blog experiment 184 days ago I had no clue what I was going to write about, what shape it would take, if I could keep to topic, or if it would matter at all in the end. In the first days I thought, “Yegods what was I thinking? I’ve been so depressed for the last year I have barely been able to function? How in God’s name am I going to do this?” And of course I had no clue, but I knew this, I knew that if I damned well didn’t do something and stick with it my life was going to drain away with no purpose or meaning and that just wasn’t going to lead anywhere good. And then I realized that the only thing that mattered was that I show up, every single day, and write what was in my heart that day. And I have done that for 184 days and frankly that, in and of itself, feels like nothing short of a miracle. Now my work has expanded to include my art because, just like doing this blog experiment, it’s good for me. It gives me a focus, broadens the scope of what I’m doing. And as with the blog posts I just have to show up each day to the sketchbook and do what I can do. And this is what I have done today.
Something really sweet is happening in the process of making art each day. I see these Ladies show up on the page and as wonky, lopsided, and cattywompus as they may be my heart, in opening to a kind compassion for them, has begun to open to a new kind of tenderness and compassion for myself. I have been so hard on myself. “You’re almost 64 and you’re not a svelte fashion model type and you live this peculiar singular life not in step with the rest of the world and you are shy and afraid a lot and you have struggled for so long with mental health issues, nobody could ever love you…” Well, no, I’m not your run of the mill average sort of person working out in the world, socializing, or marching on Washington about important matters as so many brave and glorious young people and others are today, but, well, I get up each day and do what I can, and hope that it matters. I am like the little boy in the starfish story…
“Once upon a time, there was an old man who used to go to the ocean to do his writing. He had a habit of walking on the beach every morning before he began his work. Early one morning, he was walking along the shore after a big storm had passed and found the vast beach littered with starfish as far as the eye could see, stretching in both directions.
Off in the distance, the old man noticed a small boy approaching. As the boy walked, he paused every so often and as he grew closer, the man could see that he was occasionally bending down to pick up an object and throw it into the sea. The boy came closer still and the man called out, “Good morning! May I ask what it is that you are doing?”
The young boy paused, looked up, and replied “Throwing starfish into the ocean. The tide has washed them up onto the beach and they can’t return to the sea by themselves,” the youth replied. “When the sun gets high, they will die, unless I throw them back into the water.”
The old man replied, “But there must be tens of thousands of starfish on this beach. I’m afraid you won’t really be able to make much of a difference.”
The boy bent down, picked up yet another starfish and threw it as far as he could into the ocean. Then he turned, smiled and said, “It made a difference to that one!”
Adapted from The Star Thrower, by Loren Eiseley (1907 – 1977)
Perhaps I won’t make a difference to countless thousands, but I believe what I do will matter to some, and, in the end, isn’t that enough? It has actually taken me a long time to feel that that is enough, but so it is. And on I will go each day with this blog, my art, and the book I am working on, and some day I will begin to teach again and offer what I have in my heart to the world through my writing and teaching, and it is a lot for one life, I think. I will just keep on going, that’s all any of us need to do. 
The Experiment ~A 365 Day Search For Truth, Beauty &
Happiness: Day 1 ~ Introduction To The Project
“Do or do not. There is no try.”
Yoda
I love that starfish story.
Of course, it matters what we do that’s good every day, however we connect with the world, whether as writers, artists, teachers, etc.
It’s the small, unknown ripples that I think are fundamentally most important. You do that in your writing and blogging. I always felt like that doing school field trips, classes, etc. (and still do). You never know what good you will do – or the impact that you have.
Your spirit always is inspiring, whether written, or voice, or video.
Thank you so much Lisa, your kind words mean a lot to me. And I know what a blessing you have been and are as a teacher. I think we must each do our part in this world, no matter what form that takes, even if you can’t leave your home in this internet age you can do something, at least that is what I am trying to do.
Bless you honey, I hope you’re having a wonderful weekend…
I so love the starfish story. This is how I’ve been feeling too. Maybe a post or a meme on Facebook that makes someone smile is enough. Maybe adding something silly on my fun page will cheer someone up. Maybe that is all that counts, just being me. You just being you. It might matter to one person and that’s enough.
Thank you for this post Maitri, YOU ARE ENOUGH!
I am glad you are still drawing/painting your lovely ladies.
Just finished watching Sally Field in a strange movie called, Hello I’m Doris. She was eccentric and dressed, lived the way she wanted. She was herself. The ending left a lot to the imagination but it reminded me of just allowing ourselves to be who we are, to keep experimenting, to keep on keeping on and being curious to see what develops. I love this idea, don’t you?
I hope you have a good night. I hope you are sleeping better.
Good night my friend.
Love, Jean
Hello Sweet Jean,
It is morning here now, actually after 11. I’m moving slowly today and a little sad but the kind of sadness that will pass with the hours. And yes, isn’t the starfish story wonderful?
And I loved that movie. I saw it a long time ago now, well, I mean a year or two? I thought Sally Fields was just incredible. It’s been long enough that I don’t remember it all but I remember I loved it. And thank you so much, you are enough too honey. This is something we have to embrace, and it’s not easy. We will learn.
And my Ladies, despite sometimes my best efforts to put them away, simply will not go away. And this time they have brought with them so much, opened new doors, are showing me that I can expand and grow and be more even with my art. It is exciting, it is scary, but on I go.
I hope you had a good night. I slept well, today is a new day. For now I will sip my coffee, watch the birds who are here in great numbers just now, and listen to my little pugs as they snuggle in to me ready to go back to sleep, their little snorfly snores my favorite sound…
Maitri my friend,
Isn’t this just like life – you mess it up ever so often, close your eyes, leaves it for a while, come back, take a deep breath and start to make the best of it. It usually turns out better than expected.
I’ve meant to comment so many times but I’ve been unwell for quite a while and spend very little time on-line.
Hugs and 3 kisses,
Margaretha
Oh Margaretha it is so good to see you honey and I am SO sorry to hear that you have been unwell. This worries me. Are you better now? Do you have help? I hate to think of you alone there, without Barbro, without Askar. Do you have someone come to look in on you and help you? I pray that you do. I wish I was close and could help you. Please know that I am sending you so much love and a gentle warm hug. I am with you in spirit always.
And of course 3 kisses to you to my sweet friend…
Maitri
I love your Ladies! Each one has a personality all of her own. You’re right when you say “Well, no, I’m not your run of the mill average sort of person…” you’re unique and very special, like each one of your Ladies. Sending beautiful sunshine and birdsong your way, hug those precious pugs for me. xxx
Thank you so much sweet Jenny. And ha! I had to laugh to read that. No, indeed, I am not a run of the mill average sort of person. I don’t know what I am but I’m not that! And neither are my Ladies. That, I guess, is the point. And in the end WHO is an average, run of the mill, sort of person? As I sit here this morning over coffee thinking about it I’m not sure such a person even exists, but I think you know what I meant.
It is a quiet, peaceful Sunday here, grey, it rained and may again. I am quiet within myself, a little sad, but this, too, shall pass. I hope you have a wonderful day honey…
you have found a beautiful equilibrium – rise and shine, rise and shine
dabble and deliver smile and share do what you do day after day
accruing such bounty!
xo
ka
Darling Ka, yes, or better put, I am finding it. Found sounds as if I have really arrived. The truth is I have found something that is working and I hope it lasts. I take each day now as it comes and live my way through it as best I can. And I don’t know what tomorrow will bring but here I am today, having my coffee, watching the birds at the feeders, smiling as my dear little pugs snuggle in close snorfling and snoring and going back to sleep cuddled up around my feet on my quilt, a loud blue jay cawing, and many birds swooping in to the feeders and back out to the trees. It will be a good day because I will make it so. I am a little sad this morning because Rachel was supposed to come today and now can’t come but she will come in the next few days some time. All will be well. All is well now.
I hope you and Tom are having a lovely weekend. I send you love my dear friend, and a gentle warm hug…
M. xoxox