I had a lovely conversation yesterday with a man, an M.D., at the art reception. He was the spouse of one of my painting students. He admired the hand-dyed tissue-paper collages and seemed intrigued as I explained our art group’s process of creating unique paintings with this medium.
Was I always an artist? he asked. That question made me pause. I had to think back to so long ago.
I’m a writer, I said, starting my career as a general assignment reporter for the daily news, then magazines, then university relations. I am a pen woman. The National League of American Pen Women is made up of women in letters (writing and editing), arts, and/or music (e.g., composition and arranging). What we have in common is that we all start with a blank page or canvas. When I became a Letters member, I met artists and I thought they were “cool.” I wanted to be one of them, so I took lessons.
The music element caught his ear, so to speak. What kind of music do you write? he asked. Love songs, I said. They come from my heart, and I have to be in the mood. I can’t just crank them out. This man had a gentle way of coaxing out information.
He was understanding when I told him I had developed a wrist injury from holding a paintbrush overhand for more than 30 years—the reason I switched to tissue collage. Assembling collages is quite different from painting outdoors in the landscape.
Do you still paint? he asked. Ahh, now I’m teaching painting!
He said, “It’s the same in medicine!”
Be well.
~ Rebekah
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