"I love painting. It's where I return to myself." The quote is from the group Artwell Art Therapy. It captures what I feel when I'm in the midst of playing with colors and images.
The other day, friend Toottee Chanco Pacis and I shared a table in her Happy Homes home. There was just a pot of poinsettias given to her by another friend, Becky Luyk, between us. She worked on her handmade, one-of-a-kind Christmas cards in watercolor on Optima white paper while I did the painting called "Almost Christmas," a poinsettia set against a lemon yellow background (too plain, my husband's verdict on the background's color, but that is his opinion, and he's entitled to it).
We both knew that if we didn't get together, we wouldn't get anything done. The way Toottee put it in her SMS: "I need someone to paint with or I get waylaid by so many little things, I end up not even bringing out my brushes."
We worked quietly, we conversed, too, paused for coffee and some of her squash cake (Happy Thanksgiving to those who observe it). By the end of the afternoon when the light was dimming, Toottee had finished making four cards, I was done with two small paintings (meaning, no retouches or touch-ups needed, no matter someone's opinion).
I got home early evening but even with November's darkness outside and with the lights from the Christmas inside to light my two works, I felt good inside. I couldn't wait for the next occasion when my painting pal and I would get together again. She also shared with me a Mexican custom of saying goodbye to a hostess, something passed on to her by our late friend, Carol Brady.
"I shall come again for I like myself when I am with you."
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