
When there are no flowers to photograph I paint crazy tree-scapes and my feel of how souls see themselves.
So this past week she and I met up for dinner and I passed my latest painting on for her to deliver to its intended recipient. I also tried to talk her into coming back over for the upcoming three-day weekend to hang out and maybe go walk the Cherry Creek Arts Festival. Below was her email response to me this morning.
"So I spent a good part of the long drive home (all 5.5 hours through road construction) imagining ways you could build specialty lamps and a multi-level table with glass plates and turn your tree paintings into collages of paint, flower petals, stained glass, beads, water droplets, feathers and silk or velvet skies. I even thought, “Well, that can be the ultimatum for driving all the way back over next week to visit for the July 4th holiday! We must build this table.”
And then I realized it’s not fair of me to try to push a change on your art, nor is it fair for either of us for me to live vicariously through your art.
And I honestly don’t want to go to Cherry Creek and look at a bunch of other people living successful lives as snooty artists.
If I want happiness and discovery and a sense of success through art, I should stay home and paint.
How about if we plan something in early August instead, okay? And I won’t make you build a table of any sort."
Evidently hell has slightly frosted over and I've scored (temporary???) reprieve. I wished her happy painting.
UPDATED NOTE...
The reprieve lasted all of a week before talk of making lamps began. O.o
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