Worry and Inspiration
Yesterday a visitor here in my studio lifted me from the worry that’s suddenly engulfed us all in our valley.
He bought the latest two paintings in my The City Never Sleeps series. I was delighted, partly as online sales, after being really busy the last couple of weeks, went quiet again over the weekend, but especially as he was so pleased with them. Although the price of the large one was the gallery price, he still couldn’t get over being able to buy original work he loved at prices no more than he was used to paying for prints in shops and galleries, and far less than he’d assumed he’d have to pay for original work.
“And it’s real paint!” he said, “Every single mark you’ve made yourself – every house, rooftop and even all those stars – you painted all of it.”
He bought them as a present for his new grandchild. “As she grows up she’ll love looking at them in her nursery,” he said and I will tell her that I bought them in person from the artist and how you paint with such enthusiasm and happiness. And how they are real paint – not prints!”
This morning I woke up early, inspiration fired up by his enthusiasm, and couldn’t resist working a bit on the new Wild Flower Meadow painting I started yesterday before I went out to see to the ponies and then walked with Tiptoe.
But as we walked the sadness in our valley fell over me again. My neighbour is very poorly and the suddenness of her illness has taken her and all of our ‘clan’ in our little hamlet by surprise. She is younger than me and has always been such an interesting, robust, full-of-character woman and such a welcoming friend to us all that it’s hard to take it in that she’s in trouble.
Sometimes we don’t realise how much people mean to us until their health is under threat.
She loves her quiet life in her place, the valley, her life and most of all her grown up children with all her heart and I think we her friends mean a lot to her too.
As she renews her strength the last thing she will want is us exhausting her by fussing over her. But she loves to sit in or looking out at her garden and will be aware and comforted to know that we are all here for her whenever she wants us.
We love her and I will take that love in my hands as the paint flows today. Every mark – every flower and, if I start a new City painting, every rooftop, window – every star in the sky – will be for her.
With love and light
Jenny
