In 2005, while preparing for the annual Santa Cruz County Open Studio Tour, it became increasingly difficult for me to breathe while working on a new series of paintings. I was in the process of developing the Silhouessence series, in which each painting displayed a photo of a silhouetted landscape recessed within the surface of the canvas. The outer painting became a reflection of the photo within. As I worked on them, my ability to breathe became more and more impacted. I tried moving from the studio into the dining room where I could open the windows in all four directions. That didn’t help and I began to feel sick. I was determined to finish the paintings, so I then moved the process outdoors and quickly learned that spending any more than twenty minutes at a time left me in bad shape. Of course, I was determined to get to a point where the paintings could look complete (and be photographed) even if I knew they were unfinished. I achieved my goal but the process left me physically recuperating for weeks, and emotionally processing the loss of oils for years. I had become a painter who could no longer paint.
Although I thoroughly disliked acrylics, eventually I gave in and began to play with soft body acrylics. I needed something I was passionate about to inspire a new series. Music was the key (pun intended). And it was with the Music Series that I got back into painting. I had fun with the series even though the acrylics were not as lovely to use as oils. But they did inspire a brighter and bolder palette.
Then later on, with the Transcriptions Series, I finally returned home to the feeling of flow, energy, and love for painting that I used to have years ago. And as a gift to my soul, I began finishing off an occasional painting by using oil pastels for the last touch of color.
Now I am enjoying the playful use of acrylics and mixed media on paper and on canvas. I’ve found a whole new level of joy in exploring new ideas on sketchbook pages with the paints. And I’m delighted when I find myself using similar techniques with the acrylics that I used years ago in my oil painting days.
The gift of gratitude: I’m sure that without the loss of oils, I never would have published The Gratitude Habit journals. I so appreciate the experience of producing these two books and the lessons learned along the way. It allowed me to take an idea and bring it to life in a manner so very different than with a painting and so much more public.
Life offers up twists and turns, bumps and jumps that alter our trajectory and become Turning Points in our lives. They take us to places we might not have travelled and open the door to lessons and new experiences that can enrich our journey. You may want to reflect on the Turning Points in your own life.