I think I have mentioned on an occasion or two that I would love to be able to paint. I think I have set the bar pretty low, I only want to be as good as Vincent van Gogh and honestly I don’t think that is too much to ask. But for whatever reason I don’t have the gift, the gene, the cell, the Neurotransmitter in my brain that allows me to create works of art like the beautiful painting above, one of my most prized possessions.
I have played the guitar since I was twelve years old, I can pick out most songs on the piano but I can’t paint or draw. I can build beautiful Adirondack chairs and porch swings, craft a headboard out of an old door, or make a delicate cross out of a scrap of wood, but I can’t paint or draw. I try to buy two or three original pieces of art each year. My hope is that this is my tithe, my toll, my dues to the art gods and that they will one day look down on me with pity and strike me with whatever “It” is that I need to create my vision of the world on a piece of canvas. I am still waiting and buying (I am looking for an original painting of a goat, if you know of an artist that paints goats hook me up).
So to all you painters and sculptors out there, thank you for sharing your gifts, and your talents with those of us who can barely draw stick people. We are envious, we are jealous, maybe a little resentful, probably bitter too, but happy you got “It” I just wish I could catch “It” too.