‘But I am ready…’

I have many regrets when it comes to my art. I would paint over and over and over, and I spent so much time on these paintings. Why was I making such large paintings? If I could go back in time, I would slap myself in the face.

  • Why?

Because I wasted so much time. I would paint and overpaint — like you see that one?

Mom points to a painting in front of us, leaning against a metal shelf by the door.

How many times was I changing it? How many different forms, how many different paintings was that one before it was that? And still there is something wrong with it. There is too much going on. …

… Also, it’s too big. I mean, ach, those huge canvases I was always doing. Why? What was I doing? I should have spent no more than six hours on any painting. That’s it. And really, I should have painted flowers and should have painted lines. They make me the happiest. The study of lines. Like this one…

Without needing to look, Mom points back behind her to a smaller painting, mostly pink and partially illuminated by lamplight, hanging on the wall behind her.

I always thought it was unfinished, but then I came to like it like that. I liked that it was unfinished. And this one one I really like now.


But you know, I have to let go of all this. I was never in control.

  • Who was?

Mom raises her arm up off the bed, points a finger to the sky. And begins to cry.

Maybe God wanted me to learn these lessons. Maybe he wanted me to be a frustrated painter. Maybe he wanted things to never come easy for me. Maybe he just wanted me to look for myself. That’s the other thing — people just really don’t know who they are. Many people never know who they are. I mean, when I was in Houston, new to this country. When I was with Dad. Even when I came here to California — I didn’t really know who I was at all. I was just surviving.

  • If you were in front of a blank canvas today, what would you paint?

She points her finger to me now.

This is a good question. A good question. I would do something very simple.

Finally her hand goes up towards a gray painting with some black lines swirling down through it.

You know, I was always influenced by this kind of Oriental style.

  • Mom, would you want me to get you some canvas and paint? Would you want to do anything now?

No. No.

  • Do you have to feel good to paint?

Yes. I think so. But I am ready. I will be. I mean, they say that in Heaven, people are creating. I am really looking forward to this. I think now I am actually ready to be painter.



— Conversation with Mom on the morning of July 20, 2023.

Previous
Previous

Mom’s book, her beginning

Next
Next

Mom’s book, our Liberty