2012 concrete sculpture, my first and only, so far. |
Actually, I had no idea making this list would take nearly a month, but it has. It's morphed from soap box to confessional to revelation to taking stock to manifesto. It's got a bit of all these. Perhaps this list belongs in a therapist's office. Heck, read it. I truly hope you enjoy reading it. But, more important, I hope you make a list about yourself. You may discover the very special person within that body you inhabit.
"Every person takes the limits of their own field of vision for the limits of the world." Arthur Schopenhauer
100 things about me
- I was born on April Fool's Day
- I cannot tell a joke to save my life
- In my teens, I knew exactly what I wanted to be when I grew up - a famous artist
- You have never heard of me because I did not grow up to be a famous artist
- As a kid, my birthdays came complete with an April Fool's joke, like the birthday cake that was really a box covered in frosting
- My Dad still lives in the house where he and my mother raised us. He's 100 years old
- I feel so blessed to have grown up where I did, in New England
- I was a program girl at Tanglewood, the Boston Symphony Orchestra's summer home from age 12 to 18
- Dressing up in a long gown and white gloves, handing out programs to the sophisticated people from New York and Boston and God knows where, who loved classical music as much as I do, was such a treat
- Mother was a classy lady, smart and fashionable, who worked in D.C. for the government during WWII
- She would get drunk and tell me of the wonderful life she lived before she married and had children
- She inspired me to move to New York City, where she had once lived
- My mother asked two simple things of her children - unquestioned obedience, and appreciation
- Unfortunately, only one of her children was well behaved and appreciative, and it wasn't me
- I am the youngest of four siblings, by a noticeable gap
- I was born quite by accident, my Mother told me
- I was born quite cross eyed and was 29 years old before I could see using both eyes
- I did not fear the bullies at school; it was the bullies at home that terrified me
- My siblings and I are now great friends and my mother is in a better place
- I am grateful my childhood home had no TV; it did have a piano
- I convinced my mother to let me take piano lessons when I was 5 years old
- I played the processional march for my 6th grade graduation
- That piano awakened my deepest longing - to create graceful, passionate work that could reach out in love to others
- My drawing skill, though, made people happy and appreciative
- As a teenager my poor mother got the brunt of my inner rebel
- I played hooky, drank, took drugs, had sex, and shoplifted
- I stopped misbehaving by age 20; drugs and all were clouding my judgment
- Besides, I had something to prove to my family: I wasn't an April fool
- My eyes are blue green
- My favorite color is blue green
- My hair was blonde and has come full circle
- I relate well to cats - cats live life on their own terms except when they're hungry or need affection
- I adopted two cats, Nip 'n Tux, rather than live completely alone eight years ago
- I have been confiding my thoughts in 'for my eyes only' journals for just about my whole life
- My journals have seen me through the normal existential angst, plus widow's grief, and two deep depressions
- Several revelations have rocked my world - I am loved by God; pleasure is a virtue, not a hedonistic sin; Life is to be trusted with our unconditional "Yes"; Life is not to be confused with circumstances; my own need for emotional support is legitimate; I withhold from myself what I most need: appreciation, and it's time to stop staunching its flow
- I was widowed 9 days after my 52nd birthday
- These last eight years are the first time in my life I've lived alone
- I lost my best friend when my husband died, but have made a new very good one
- My social circle shrank to include only my family and a couple friends during the height of 24/7 caregiving and many years afterwards
- I am learning how to make friends all over again, and I have my share of flops
- I am learning who I am, and I have plenty of time and room to do so
- Writing this blog has allowed me to reveal the woman behind my quiet exterior
- Though my heart's message to one and all is "Life's an embrace!" "Let your cup runneth over!" actually expressing it openly is something I only do with written, visual or physical language
- I'm not a talker, and as hard as I try, sharing doesn't come easily
- Ever since my fingers first touched piano keys, maybe at 2 years old, classical music has provided these messages to me "You are important" "Let your love show"
- I had a crush on Jim Morrison of the Doors when I was a teen, and I still love his song "Come on, baby, light my fire"
- Blue jeans have been my clothing of choice since high school
- I bartended in a speakeasy at my first boyfriend's college dorm when I was 17
- I hitch hiked as a teen
- I made the mistake of hitch hiking in Boston, but jumped out at a stoplight
- I lived one summer with a young man, a hippie, when I was 20
- I took a year off from college in Boston to grow up and get my act together
- I worked at a needlepoint design studio overlooking the Boston Public Gardens, and designed a couple needlepoint pillows for the Boston Symphony Orchestra
- I attended three colleges in order to try different places to live
- I finished up college in New York City and lived there for 12 years
- One of my professors was Maurice Sendak
- I sketched for a living my entire adult life
- I am left handed and right brained; logical, linear thinking actually feels convoluted; it's quite difficult to sort memories out sequentially in order to tell stories
- I took an I.Q. test in my thirties. I feared I was dumb because words don't flow from my brain to my mouth very easily
- To my complete surprise, I'm not
- My late husband didn't believe for a minute that I was dumb; just the opposite
- I cannot go through a day without greeting someone with a smile, and I love making someone smile
- I find body language more honest and revealing than spoken language
- Until I was age 44, I believed that intelligence was a higher calling than any other and that people who know the most are at the top of the heap
- I might not have been dumb, but I was an idiot
- I am a sensory person; I live and breathe by the touch of air on my cheek, water on my body, snowflakes on my tongue, the strength and grace in my body, almost everything my fingertips feel
- I live and breathe by the quiet stillness of night, the rushing wind, the conversations of birds and squirrels and cats and Katydids and Spring Peeper tree frogs and Cicadas
- I live and breath by the slow pink creep of dawn, the pelting droplets of rain on the pond, the arch of the Great Blue Heron's head, the twinkling stars, the color of tropical sea and flowers, the swell of waves; my list is endless
- The inner joy I feel when two lovers have a conversation, without a word being said, is something I hope to experience again
- The inner joy I feel when someone reads what I'm saying here, or 'reads' what I'm saying with my visual language is the inner joy I imagine some people feel when they hold conversations
- My gardens are my works of art
- One has to walk through them to experience them; they are my gift and my embrace to you
- Two dimensional artwork interests me less than it used to, both producing it and viewing it
- My last full time job was in advertising on Madison Avenue, 34 years ago
- 34 years ago, at age 26, I started my own freelance illustration business in that industry
- One of my favorite clients was Toy R Us; another was Purina
- I retired when my late husband took early retirement
- I had deadline nightmares for years afterwards
- I never missed a deadline
- I danced at Studio 54 when Andy Warhol hung out there
- I lived in Greenwich Village
- I exhibited once in a gallery there; nothing sold
- I went contra dancing most Friday evenings, in the village
- I walked two miles to eat breakfast in the Empire State building almost every day
- I went to baseball games at Yankee and Shea Stadiums
- I moved out of my city apartment into a house in the suburbs when I married at age 32
- I was terrified I wouldn't relate to most Moms and families here in the suburbs, and unfortunately I don't
- I've lived in the same house on a wooded acre with a pond for 27 years, just 50 miles from New York City
- It's where my heart is; it's where I belong, for now
- These last eight years I've learned how to fix a sump pump, run a lawnmower, a snow blower and a generator, hang wall paper, manage finances, generally keep my computers running, do basic carpentry and electrical work
- I could not manage without my right hand man, a carpenter I met by chance (?) at my city's recycling center
- I have traveled round the world, to 5 countries on my own in the last 8 years
- I have yet to enjoy cooking for one on a regular basis
- My refrigerator is so stuffed you cannot see the back
- I took up bicycling when I was 53, running when I was 57, and swimming when I was 58
- During Hurricane Irene in 2011, I bailed water from my basement for 32 hours straight, and saved my belongings
- I've pretty much learned to take basement floods and blackouts and blizzards in stride, or else I'd move
- For me, the 'gift' of difficult times, when I'm discouraged and lonely, is learning that happiness is truly an inside job
- These days I wear a bracelet on my wrist that says "Y'NEVANO" (You never know)
Me, second from left, wearing the eye patch. Not a happy day |
I love, LOVE, love your list! What an interesting life you've had! Lists like this are such a cool way to get to know one another in a hurry. The life you've lived surprised me---I didn't pick up the richness of it through your blog. And I wish I could have been by your side for some of your experiences in Greenwich Village and as an working illustrator.
ReplyDeleteWe have these things in common: #2,3,4,17,34,41,42,43,45,94,and 95.
Thanks for sharing this. I hope others will follow suit.
Jean, I'm so touched you would have liked to share some of my experiences in Greenwich Village and on Madison Ave. I would have liked that, too. Nowadays I couldn't pick up that life where I left off. I run out of steam around 9:30 P.M.
ReplyDeleteHow interesting that you wanted to be a famous artist, too. In picking up on your history, it's clear you continued to use your talent in many different forms. You are indeed a colorful woman, maybe more so now that you are shining by yourself?
I do try to filter out the details of my life in my posts, but maybe I withhold too much information.
Also interesting that we both once had crossed eyes! Sometimes I wonder if limited eyesight, with one good eye, made sketching easier. Once I began to see three dimensionally in my thirties, my interest in making art turned to sculptural forms.
My husband and I both marched to the beat of a different drummer but we were more conventional than you in your younger years, but far less conventional than those around us. I don't think I shine more by myself because my husband was always my biggest fan who never tried to stifle me with anything. However, I have more time now to dream again now that I'm no longer a caregiver.
ReplyDeleteI wanted to be another Michelangelo during my college years, even took up marble sculpturing. But all I really learned was to appreciate how truly huge his talent really was.
Oh Yes! I love hearing the beat of a different drummer. Thank you, Thoreau! Having the courage to march to that different beat when no one's cheering us on is a make or break challenge, but we've got it in us. Even marching to the same beat as everybody else is a huge challenge; you don't want to let your comrades, or kids or coworkers down.
ReplyDeleteWhenever I hear someone say they feel like a misfit, my ears perk up. I wanted to be another Van Gogh, then another Matisse, envisioning myself as part of that grand artistic sweep of history. Did our reach exceeds our grasp? LOL!
I loved the impressionists, but I wanted to be another John Singer Sargent. As for reaching beyond our grasp/aka talent...nothing wrong with that. You don't know how far you can go if you don't set your target high. Like my husband used to say, "If you can't make history, you can help keep it alive." The arts need all the supporters they can get.
ReplyDeleteWell said, 'reaching beyond our grasp...". Making art, making a life after widowhood is 1% inspiration and 99% perspiration. Stories about individuals transforming adversity into a new life of freedom and happiness fascinate me. It takes community to sometimes pull us along, and to sometimes kick our ass. I love reading blogs like yours because they are history in the making. I cheer you on.
ReplyDeleteI love John Singer Sargent's Madame X. Did you know it was ridiculed when first exhibited? He considered it his finest work... If you ever want to see it at the Met, let me know - we'll make it happen!
I identify with #70!
ReplyDeleteGlad I'm not the only one. LOL One thing I know, I not about to put that cart before the horse, let that tail wag the dog...you get the idea !!!
ReplyDelete