My mom was an artist. She didn’t see herself as one, but she definitely was.
She could play the piano. I mean really play it. My dad used to joke that he knew what mood she was in by the music she was playing . . . he could hear it as he got out of the car when he got home from work. If she was playing Grieg’s “In the Hall of the Mountain King” from Peer Gynt, he considered getting back in the car and taking a drive around the block a couple of times! (If you are not familiar, it is quite complicated, bold, and dramatic!)
She could also paint. I have several of her paintings around the house.
But it’s kind of interesting . . . I think my favorite of her work is very different than the rest. Actually, it’s unfinished. It’s a charcoal drawing of what she was planning on painting.
Black and white. Slightly rough. An outline of a vision.
Needless to say, she never had the chance to finish it . . . she lost her 5-year battle with cancer in 1984. I was a junior in high school.
But I framed this piece. And it hangs prominently in my living room . . . for all to see. It kind of spoke to me. It’s different . . . unexpected . . . uncommon.
I think this is a reflection of why I decided to sell my own, handmade jewelry . . . to create something that is unique, even one of a kind . . .
So I can be like my mom and share something that I hope brings joy to others . . . something that they will find uncommon and . . . beautiful.