My Very First Painting

I’ve had a bunch of art supplies that belonged to my Mother. My Dad passed them on to me after she passed away a few years ago, probably because she and I had talked about taking a painting class together. She was very skilled but rusty, and I’d never painted beyond the crap you do for art class in school. We never got to do that and I guess my  Dad thought it would be cool for me to have them now. I’ve moved them around three or four times, but never opened them up. In 2008 it was even one of my goals for that year.

I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately, and even talked to Jen, a dear new friend, about it one night a few weeks ago. She encouraged and emboldened me and I decided to give it a try. I pushed myself into doing it this weekend because of my “No Whining” post last week.

The plans Chooch and I had for today got nixed because I’ve been sick most of the day, up and down with dizziness and fighting a migraine. It’s been a rough day, and add to that some bad news and the fact that I had to miss out on a party tonight where he and his band were playing. Serious bummer. I wasn’t up to doing anything new, but I made myself go downstairs and see if anything happened.

I ended up doing a painting, and I’m pretty happy with it. Nothing exciting or earth-shattering, but I definitely vibed on my Mom and my son NB while I was at it and it has a special meaning to me. I haven’t decided if it’s finished or not. I’ll look at it tomorrow and decide if I want to add anything as I first intended, but I may leave it as is.

Oh, and I made potato salad for the first time, too. Thanks to my great friend Andrea for her tip on making the best I’ve ever tasted. Mine isn’t as good, but it’s still okay.