Is it exciting? What can I say? The most exciting thing in my life is my art. That's a good thing if you consider that I've been married for nearly 48 years, have two remarkable kids, one wonderful daughter-in-law, one very special granddaughter, plus another grandchild on the way. Now that my adventurous husband is retired, we travel a lot, usually visiting family and friends who, fortunately, are scattered all over the country.
All these things are great blessings and more than I deserve, but they are nothing that makes my life extraordinary. I have the usual too-busy days, frustrating encounters with my computer, and disappointment when the dryer turns my favorite pants into high-waters. But these are not really exciting.
Perhaps all this banality is what lets me ramp up my senses when I step up to my easel. When I'm painting, I have to look, really LOOK, at my subject and take note of its color and texture. I must HEAR the melody of the color relationships and the staccato accents of more intense color and contrast. I must FEEL the way the eye glides over the soft edges or halts at a hard one. (I haven't figured out how to impart SMELL, but I get a somewhat puzzling sense of peace around oil paint.) Two hours of painting can work on me like a visit to a theme park on a six-year-old.
What can I say? It's a great life!