In case you didn’t know, I’m an artist. It’s not something I’ve talked about here in any depth, until now.

My journey began with drawing and painting classes when my kids were in school. It’s been quite the journey; both in length of time and lessons I’ve learned along the way. I’ve shared a few images of my paintings here. I will share more in this post and part II to come.

The Art Student

When I began, I had a small studio-room in the basement of our house on Osland Close. I took formal night classes in drawing and painting. I went from level I to completion of level III. These were disciplined classes. They were fun but they were lessons and our skills were being evaluated often. There were final projects we were required to show and be critiqued on in class. It was an amazing experience. However, it does cause a bit of restraint and insecurity in one’s art.

For example, “Do not work from photographs, work from life” or “work on one painting at a time” and “Don’t put charcoal on top of oils/acrylic painting…” Um, these are but a few examples of “rules” that do not work for me.

As an art student, I was yet to find my freedom.

During this time and also after my divorce, I attended drop-in “life drawing” classes with live, nude models every Monday afternoon. It was a three hour un-instructed class where the model posed for short bursts and then longer holds.

I can still recall the older woman in her late 70’s, who often sat next to me. She sketched just like Matisse. Also, you never knew who the model was until they showed up. Male? Female? There was one occasion where the model didn’t show up and one of the students volunteered to pose. Ha! This is when we all learned that there is a skill to posing.

I loved these classes. It’s funny because not once was I able to stay right until 4 pm because I would pick my kids up after school. Nevertheless, I learned quite a bit there about embracing my own sketching style.

Then I had a large studio space across the hall from the master bedroom in my broken-dream home. I wasn’t there long enough to fully make it my own but I did some nice paintings there as well as many sketches.

Post Divorce

Later, in my first home after my marital separation, I had a little bedroom upstairs that I made into my studio. There wasn’t much storage space but it worked well enough. I painted a series of large canvases in this little room. Nudes. Still have some that are not completed from this series. The one I did manage to finish hangs in my current bedroom.

This little studio-bedroom served also as a space to work on interior design class projects. So, shifting from painting, I was now drafting, working with fabric, paint swatches and large story boards. Switching to interior design was an effort to start a career post divorce. I still do some contract work in residential interiors.

Starting a new life with an old easel

Four years later I moved back to B.C. (from Alberta). I lived in a two bedroom apartment with my Beau and his son. There was no room here for a studio. Instead, I created a studio space at our family’s beach front home, inside the four car garage. Well, actually, it is a three car plus one boat—garage. I painted in oils there and so I would have the overhead door open while I worked.

But the very best studio I ever did have was aptly named (by me) Rat’s Nest Studio. It was located on the property of the original family beach house (beside the big one). My Beau and I were cleaning out the shed on the property that hadn’t been used in likely more than a decade and yes, there were rats’ nests in there.

Rat’s Nest Studio

The house had been listed for sale but had not gotten any solid offers. In hopes of improving the appeal of the house, my beau and I painted the house exterior and began cleaning up the shed. When we removed all the mostly rusted out junk, I had an epiphany that it would make the perfect art studio. Well no more had to be said and my Beau got right to work planning it. He even got our sons involved in installing the dry wall. I drew sketches of a proposed lay out. Shelves mounted on one wall to lean canvases on, at the right height for painting. A large sink under the window facing the road. My shabby chic chandelier would provide lighting.

When it was finished about six weeks later, I found a piece of wood on the beach. I painted it to make a sign for above the studio door. I created my favorite painting in Rat’s Nest but again, this studio was short lived. The property sold one month after we finished it. So I moved my canvases, paints and art paraphernalia back to the newer, larger family property.

I took a nook in the room above the garage. This served me well. The dormered window overlooking the side of the cliffs and part of the ocean were dreamy. I would stare out there contemplating my paint brush’s next move. I have a whole series of small oil paintings I did there, looking out at the view.

My good friend who lives in Florida asked me if she could have one to remind her of her original home. So I was more than happy to give it to an appreciative soul.

Moving again…

When we moved into the apartment we’re currently living in, I set up a table top easel by the windows at the far end of the living room. I’ve painted one large canvas, and a few small ones out on the deck in the summer. Eventually, though, our apartment became a bit more crowded with my furniture coming out of storage.

This brings me to today. Now I work on a built-in table my Beau just installed a month ago. It’s been wonderful to paint, in addition to making art journals (that I hope to sell on Etsy). The table can get paint spills all over and who cares!

Speaking of junk journals, I recently made one representing my art journey. I kept instructor’s notes, course outlines and evaluations on my work in a binder, so I included them in the book. It was staggering to collect all of my art papers, notes, sketches and even paint palettes in creating this journal. It certainly made me realize how long I’ve been doing this art thing and how I have evolved.

“Feet, what do I need you for, when I have wings to fly?”-Frida Kahlo

The last thing I’d like to touch on about my art journey is kind of painful. I was going to save it for part II but wanted to go into a little more detail than I could on a list.

The most important lesson

Don’t give your paintings as gifts-I have made this mistake in the past. I’m not referring to a friend who looked at my paintings then asked if she could take one home. I’m talking about actually creating a custom made painting for someone you care about.

My first example: Several years ago, I found an old photo of my mother as a young child—about 3 years old. Standing in the wet grass in her front yard. She looked like an imp or faery. What was so special about this photo and what inspired me to paint it was my grandmother’s handwriting on the back of it. So, I endeavored to paint in oil, this photo’s likeness. I drew it out first in my sketch book. My idea was to paint my grandmother’s words as the final layer.

Upon completion, I gave it to my mother for her birthday around 2001. Initially it was hung in my parents’ home. But when they moved in 2013, they didn’t hang it up in their new home. I suspect my father threw it away as his relationship with me began to deteriorate. My mother now lives in long-term care seniors home. A framed poster of a golf course hangs on her wall.

My second example: Back in 2004, my sister asked me if I would make a painting for her. She had a large, empty wall space in her new house she wanted filled. She chose a Tom Thomson painting that was bold and bright. I proceeded to paint this in my new home’s basement during my first year of my divorce. I taped an unframed canvas about 7 ft. wide x 3 1/2 ft. long to the wall. I spent months on it. I have to say that I absolutely enjoyed the process of this one. Working large and with bold color was uplifting to me in a time of difficulty.

The only damper came when I felt pressure to finish it. When it was finally finished though, she happily accepted it.

Art is trash?

She removed the painting from her wall about six years ago and replaced it with something possibly bought from Home Sense.

I also painted her a fun portrait. I was into painting portraits right from the beginning of my art journey. However, I suspect that painting has also been discarded.

All that time, effort and love expressed in those gifts of my paintings meant very little if they could be discarded so easily.

In addition, upon request, I painted a friend’s small son’s hockey jersey. I have no idea whether they kept it. Her husband worked with my ex-husband and the friendship became strained during my divorce.

Also, about two years ago while looking at my old studio corner above the garage, at the family property, I noticed one of my paintings (a bright floral) had been turned to face the wall. My heart stopped a second as I realized how offensive (certain) family members found my art. I still don’t know who the art crapper-caper is.

The Exception

My good friend who was with me, exclaimed that she would love to take it home since I had little wall space left at my apartment. I obliged with a giant smile. She has had it framed and says it makes her happy. A far cry from someone who puts my paintings against a wall facing inward. Or who has discarded my talent like it was garbage.

The moral of the story? Don’t give away—your heart, your talent, your time, your skill or your love—to someone who does not appreciate it. While creating these gifts were a pure pleasure for me, the idea that they have not been valued and likely been discarded saddens me.

My journey has been eventful. In spite of all the moves, various studios, and chaos, art has remained a constant joy in my life.

My journey has been eventful. In spite of all the moves, various studios, and chaos, art has remained a constant joy in my life. What's the one constant joy in your life? #art #lifelessons #creativelife Share on X

Coming up next: My Art Journey and the Lessons I’ve Learned Part II

What is the constant in your life, amidst chaos or tough times?