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Saturday, December 24, 2022

The Stuff They Probably Never Hear About

This has been an awful year.
Loss, dysfunction, health woes.
So it shouldn't surprise anyone to hear that I'm not exactly filled with Christmas cheer. I did try to brighten my spirits by spending some time coming up with ideas & creating some stuff for people & sending out surprises but some of that has fallen flat, too.
A little while ago, I sat down at the computer and saw a notification that I had a message from a long-time fan of my artwork - I'll call her G - who became one of my best customers. More than that, though, is that I now consider her my friend.
Anyway, I don't always notice that I have messages because I'm terrible at social media so it was weird that I saw this one right away today.
Here's the message that she sent:
๐˜๐˜ช ๐˜š๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ณ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ. ๐˜ ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฐ๐˜ข๐˜ณ๐˜ฅ ๐˜บ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜ณ ๐˜ค๐˜ข๐˜ณ๐˜ฅ๐˜ด (note: I occasionally sell greeting cards of my artwork) ๐˜ถ๐˜ฏ๐˜ต๐˜ช๐˜ญ ๐˜ ๐˜ง๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ด๐˜ฐ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฆ๐˜ด๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ท๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ง ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฎ ๐˜“๐˜–๐˜“. ๐˜ ๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ฅ ๐˜ซ๐˜ถ๐˜ด๐˜ต ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ญ๐˜ฆ๐˜ง๐˜ต ๐˜ฐ๐˜ง ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜Š๐˜ถ๐˜ด๐˜ฑ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ง ๐˜‹๐˜ถ๐˜ด๐˜ฌ ๐˜Š๐˜ฉ๐˜ณ๐˜ช๐˜ด๐˜ต๐˜ฎ๐˜ข๐˜ด ๐˜ค๐˜ข๐˜ณ๐˜ฅ๐˜ด. ๐˜ˆ ๐˜ง๐˜ณ๐˜ช๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ'๐˜ด ๐˜ฉ๐˜ถ๐˜ด๐˜ฃ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ฅ๐˜ชe๐˜ฅ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ช๐˜ด ๐˜บ๐˜ฆ๐˜ข๐˜ณ ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ ๐˜ธ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ต๐˜ฐ ๐˜ด๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ ๐˜ข ๐˜Š๐˜ฉ๐˜ณ๐˜ช๐˜ด๐˜ต๐˜ฎ๐˜ข๐˜ด ๐˜ค๐˜ข๐˜ณ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ฃ๐˜ถ๐˜ต ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜ต๐˜ฐ๐˜ฐ ๐˜ซ๐˜ฐ๐˜ญ๐˜ญ๐˜บ. ๐˜ ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ช๐˜ด ๐˜ค๐˜ข๐˜ณ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ด๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ต ๐˜ช๐˜ต ๐˜ต๐˜ฐ ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ ๐˜ธ๐˜ช๐˜ต๐˜ฉ ๐˜ข ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ๐˜ต๐˜ฆ. ๐˜๐˜ต ๐˜ธ๐˜ข๐˜ด ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฑ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ง๐˜ฆ๐˜ค๐˜ต ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฅ. ๐˜š๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ค๐˜ข๐˜ญ๐˜ญ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ช๐˜ฎ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ๐˜ช๐˜ข๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ญ๐˜บ ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ฌ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฑ๐˜ต ๐˜ด๐˜ข๐˜บ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜ช๐˜ต ๐˜ธ๐˜ข๐˜ด ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฑ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ง๐˜ฆ๐˜ค๐˜ต ๐˜ค๐˜ข๐˜ณ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ง๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฐ๐˜ธ ๐˜ด๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ธ๐˜ข๐˜ด ๐˜ง๐˜ฆ๐˜ฆ๐˜ญ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฐ๐˜ธ ๐˜ฎ๐˜ถ๐˜ค๐˜ฉ ๐˜ด๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ญ๐˜ฐ๐˜ท๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ช๐˜ต. ๐˜ ๐˜ธ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ต๐˜ฐ ๐˜ญ๐˜ฆ๐˜ต ๐˜บ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ ๐˜ฌ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ๐˜ธ ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฐ๐˜ธ ๐˜บ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜ณ ๐˜ธ๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜ฌ ๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ด ๐˜ต๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜ค๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ฑ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฑ๐˜ญ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ ๐˜ธ๐˜ข๐˜บ๐˜ด ๐˜บ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ ๐˜ฑ๐˜ณ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฃ๐˜ข๐˜ฃ๐˜ญ๐˜บ ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฆ๐˜ท๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ข๐˜ณ ๐˜ข๐˜ฃ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜ต. ๐˜๐˜ข๐˜ท๐˜ฆ ๐˜ข ๐˜ญ๐˜ฐ๐˜ท๐˜ฆ๐˜ญ๐˜บ ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฐ๐˜ญ๐˜ช๐˜ฅ๐˜ข๐˜บ.
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Well, you can imagine that I cried a little bit when I read that message.
And that's the thing right there: "๐ญ๐จ๐ฎ๐œ๐ก๐ž๐ ๐ฉ๐ž๐จ๐ฉ๐ฅ๐ž ๐ข๐ง ๐ฐ๐š๐ฒ๐ฌ ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ ๐ฉ๐ซ๐จ๐›๐š๐›๐ฅ๐ฒ ๐ง๐ž๐ฏ๐ž๐ซ ๐ก๐ž๐š๐ซ ๐š๐›๐จ๐ฎ๐ญ".
I have been told on occasion that my artwork evokes memories in people, reminds them of some faraway place and time. I've had people tell me their stories...because my artwork reminded them of the house or farm they grew up in or some other bittersweet memory that they were compelled to share with me. Oftentimes they'll APOLOGIZE as they tell their story...as if they are burdening me with their sentimentality.
๐—ก๐—ผ๐˜๐—ต๐—ถ๐—ป๐—ด could be further from the truth.
To be told that something you create brings someone back to happy time or reminds them of someone special to them - well, I don't know how to express what that means other than to say it just sincerely doesn't get any better than that.
It's the fuel that sparks my creativity.
It is my personal definition of success.
So my friend G managed to give me a little dose this morning of the (elusive) thing that this season is all about: joy.



Cusp Of Dusk is the name of this piece, that G sent as a card to her grieving friend.
You might think that Cusp Of Dusk looks a little gloomy, but if you look closely, you'll see that the curtain in the second floor window is pulled back a little bit and the light is shining through.
And you know, where there's light, there's hope.
I hope G's friend notices the little window of light on her greeting card and can find a little glimmer of that this season as she nurses her broken heart.
I hope that this little story reminds you to tell people how they've touched you or made a difference to you or stuck up for you or about the time that they (͟f͟i͟l͟l͟ ͟i͟n͟ ͟t͟h͟e͟ ͟b͟l͟a͟n͟k͟)͟ and how it made you laugh/cry/smile/thrive.
Tell them the stuff they probably never hear about.
It's the gift that keeps on giving. I assure you.
Merry Christmas,