Thrills of Creative Work
If you have the time to pursue a creative endeavor (painting, writing, photography, drama, music) you have to be happy. My opinion? Yes, but it is based up on experience and talks with various artists. One quality of being a creative person is that you can be a dreamer.What if I used the image of a pansy instead of a dandelion? Will the early spring flowering of the pansy kindle a greater appreciation of resilience in a reader than the dandelion? What if I bled narrow streaks of a bright yellow in the orange tiger lily? Will an awe flare up in seeing an unexpected expression of individuality? What if the flower’s name is the same as my neighbor in the next block? Will a gratefulness of his uniqueness be kindled? What if? What if? What if?
A dreamer’s bonus is having freedom, at least for a short time, to mentally travel to alternate realities like someone who pays to go on a holiday to a different country, to the beach or for golfing. The difference is that the artistic person communicates their treasured visions through words, sounds or colors. Viewers or listeners of inspired works spark resounding values for beauty or maybe stimulate explorations of fresh possibilities.
Crafting new realities from nothing is like tasting the joy of God who fashioned the earth and its inhabitants. While creators toil at their work, they enjoy it. Also, it is an escape time. Inventing a new reality takes much longer than a holiday and so is even more delightful for the artist.
Several characters in my novel, Baggage burdens. relish the love of framing new lasting realities for others to experience. Can you sense their joy?
Jill announces that Amber was asked to put one of her paintings up for sale in a silent auction in May. The event is a fundraiser for the Wellness Center in which the church participates to help homeless people.
One of Joseph’s favorite spots on the farm inspired Amber's work. While her father was driving her to the farm to go horseback riding, Amber learned the importance of an oak tree beyond the garage, near the edge of the family garden. Joseph described his Uncle Mike’s oak tree as if it were a dear friend. On the other side of the garden stood his weeping birch tree. Sometimes Joseph watched the spray of the sprinkler watering the sentinels of the garden. The droplets of water falling from the oak’s leaves made him imagine his Uncle Mike was crying because he was no longer with him.
Amber captured his memory on canvas. Her imagination added two details. For the flow of water droplets flying through the air, she glued hundreds of tiny silver speckles, speckles one sees on ceilings. A faint rainbow arched across the background, disappearing behind the weeping birch. Joseph understood Amber’s symbolic meaning—he was his uncle’s pot of gold. She painted that scene shortly after they moved to Camrose.
When the ladies pressured Joseph to offer that painting for the auction, he agreed on the condition that there could be a reserve bid of one hundred dollars. He thought the ladies would reject his condition, but they didn’t. When Amber heard what had been proposed, she protected her father’s gift by promising her mother that she would create an alternative painting for the auction. Amber began to work on her new piece, focusing on creating a textured work, a technique she had been experimenting on in art class.
Five minutes before her appointment, Bill pulls up to Bossard’s Photography Studio. “Would you like me to come in with you?”
“Thank you for asking, but no.”
Before entering, she pauses, looking at the window display––pictures of weddings, baptisms, and older couples celebrating an anniversary. Pictures captured in ovals, in fogs, in black and whites, and group displays all demonstrate a creative flair that Jill never realized was part of Dave’s talents.
* * *
Jill enters the studio and is greeted by an attractive thirtyish woman with short, clipped blond hair.
“Jill Kreshky to see Mr. Bossard. I’ve a ten thirty appointment.”
The receptionist picks up the phone.
“Dave will be with you in a few moments.”
Jill scans the walls of the waiting room. One wall features portraits while another is filled with scenes from all four seasons. Photos of winter poke into spring and spring into summer like trickling water not being confined to any space. As summer scenes claim their space, Dave’s voice cuts Jill’s admiration of his work.
haiku capsule:
a “what if” hunter
portraying alternatives
playing creator
Nextblog: I Don’t Know
Order the e-book from kindle or kobo now or your soft cover from Amazon.
I’d love to use it on my new website that’s being developed.
All comments will be entered for a draw on the Baggage burdens.companion novel.
No comments:
Post a Comment