our art

it was one of those quiet periods in the day in elementary school.

the teacher prolly had enough and took a break and had us all color.

i don't remember much except coloring at my desk. but apparently

there was talking and sharing of pictures because while we colored,

the teacher announced to the class that she was impressed with how

i had something nice to say about everyone's art. she had been watching

and thought it was cool that i was encouraging everyone. something like

that. 

i remembered that as i made the bed this morning. and i smiled. 

and then i thought of the tiny little gallery i had helped run for awhile when i 

first started bone sighs. i said i'd join if it was open to everyone.

i would not stay if it turned into a place where we juried art and told

people they weren't good enough to be there. if everyone wasn't

welcome, i didn't want to be there. and everyone who came in found

only encouragement from me.

hmmmm....and the little girl carries it into womanhood.

i thought about what i was like as a kid and how so much has carried

over. there's the obvious stuff of the inspirational quotes i had all over

my walls, and how whenever i needed to think, i'd take a walk - even

as kid.

i look back at all that and shake my head. that stuff just hasn't left.

but i wouldn't have known about the encouraging others if that teacher

hadn't said anything. i really didn't know i did. 

and then when i looked at the stuff with gallery and including everyone,

i realized i still do it. i kinda knew. i just don't think about it.

i look back at my quirks that are still with me, and my basic demeanor.

yep. still there. you coulda written out a lot of who i'd be.

but here's the thing....

there was a lotta stuff i needed to refine - like learning to be there for

others in a healthy way. 

stuff we learn as we get older.

stuff i have grown and refined.

but the stuff was either obvious stuff or imperative stuff.

stuff that if i didn't refine, i'd sink.

but what about the not obvious stuff, the stuff that doesn't seem imperative (yet)?

i haven't bothered.

i haven't looked.

i haven't really thought about it a whole lot.

or maybe now and then it hits me and then i forget.

last nite i was thinking about how much of our childhood still runs us.

where does mine still direct and pull me without me even knowing?

where do the negatives come in? and where are they dominating that

i don't even notice. 

i was shy back then.

still am.

i felt in the way back then.

still do.

i was clunky and uncoordinated.

still am.

undervalued myself back then.

still do.

the list goes on.

hello?

just because you WERE something, doesn't mean you still have to be.

i love this line -

hmmmm....and the little girl carries it into womanhood.

couldn't the little girl carry it into womanhood and change it?

couldn't the woman understand that those things were about a little

girl who didn't see the whole picture, who didn't understand her own

personal value?

couldn't the little girl grow into a woman who understands there's

beauty inside all of us, including herself? and couldn't the woman

show the little girl that still lives inside of her now healthier ways to
view her self? healthier ways of her subtle interactions with life?

how about this.......

hmmmm....and the little girl carries it into womanhood.

and the woman paints beautiful colors on the places that needed

them, and together they carry beauty into the world. 

why not?

we had all the colors when we were kids.

and we painted ourselves in the best way a kid can paint.

but i don't think we realize it. and i think maybe we stop creating ourselves

and let those beginning sketches and paintings of who we are stay untouched.

but i know i've acquired buckets of new paints since then.

and i have some touching up to do.

hmmmm....and the little girl carries her painting into womanhood.

and the woman adds her colors and glitter and hues on the places that needed to fade,
and together they carry the creation of themselves into the world. 

holding the painting in their hands, knowing their hands are the painting,
their soul the colors, they offer their art.