"I Hear You Have a Request?"

A year ago, I made a heartfelt and soul-felt request to Life.

I said: I want to write and I want to paint.

Which really wasn’t that big of a declaration to anyone who knows me because I have been doing both for a heck of a long time.

But Life and I, we have a long history and It knew very well what I meant. I meant: I want to uplevel. I want to bring my art and my writing to the front. I want to do more of both than of the coaching which I still love and hope to continue to do forever. Please?

And because I trust in the African proverb “Pray While You Move Your Feet,” having done the praying, I went about the business of moving my feet.

I turned my small guest room into an art studio, arranged my paints all in a pretty row, and placed my brushes in glass jars. I ordered some canvases and I gently touched the arm of a project that had been sleeping for two years, whispering for it to wake up.

People. Painting people. Specifically, the people of the village where I live.

While I have been painting Hearts since the first days of the pandemic as if my sanity depended on it (which I think, it did) I had never painted people. I did not think I could, actually.

And then one day in June about three years ago, picking up a bunch of little wooden frames on which to paint Hearts, I got so enamored with the woodshop and the people who worked there, with its leaky tin roof under the torrential rain that well… I don’t know, “something” made me take a quick photo. Then go home in the rain, dry myself, and somehow paint the guys in the woodshop.

I had never done this. And I loved the way it looked.

A few weeks later, feeling encouraged, I painted the portrait of a friend of mine as she delivered her fresh produce. This one too, I loved.

I photographed a couple more people from the village and the seed of An Idea was planted.
Then life took a few left turns, The Idea settled in for a long siesta and it wasn’t until June of last year that I asked it to wake up.

I made my request to Life and The Idea rubbed its eyes, stretched its little arms towards the sky, and said good morning.

In this new space, with all my colors lined up in front of me, I got inspired to create twelve paintings of The People of the Village. La Gente Del Pueblo. Then eventually to have a little gathering to share the portraits with the community. I wanted to show people how beautiful they are as they go about their daily lives, I wanted to honor them and celebrate them.

I had the whole summer in front of me and while creating twelve portraits felt ambitious, I knew I could do it.

So I started. I did one, then two. Then three. Every time I finished one, I posted it on the local FB pages and was delighted at how people loved it.

Then one day I received a message from a man who owns a restaurant in town, a man of many ideas. He asked me to meet him.

At the meeting, drinking some delicious passion fruit water, he told me how excited he was about my work and told me that he had an idea. Did I want to hear it?

I wanted to hear it.

The details don’t matter much - and did not come to fruition - but they involved me creating more portraits than the twelve I had stretched to commit to. They involved me creating… fifty-four paintings! When I heard this, I took a breath as I could feel Life watching. I could not just say no, I could not ask “Are you crazy??”

So I did a quick calculation in my mind and said: “Ok, I can do this. I just need about one year to create this body of work.” One portrait a week… sure.

We shook on it and Lila and I made a beeline for the beach. This is where I run to when I need more space in my mind and less space between me and my intuition.

We walked, I felt, I tried to stay away from words. Just feel.

Then I saw it. The silliness of it. The silliness of me asking Life to become an artist, a real, paid, recognized artist - and soon. And then when the invitation envelope shows up at my door, less than a month later, my answer is: ”Oh yes, that’s nice. Give me a year or so.” It almost made me laugh.

I went home and sent a message giving my commitment. Fifty-four portraits by November 1st. It was August. I had given my word and I would do it.

Of course, I did it.

It wasn’t even stressful. It was focused, it was a task, it was a blessing.

On December 7, with the help of my friends, I held a beautiful community show celebrating and honoring fifty-four People of the Village. It was packed, there was music, and there was a lot of love. It would be another two months before I let myself feel the bigness of it all.

Twelve paintings felt like a stretch. Yet, fifty-four was simply a commitment, a focus, a YES.

It was a respectful response to what Life was offering me, having heard my request.

A year later, most of my working hours are spent painting and writing, while I am still loving getting on a call for a coaching session. The proportions have been reversed, just like I asked them to be. I am in awe.

And because I know that you and I have many things in common, today, I invite you to:
1) get clear on what you want
2) speak/write/sing/cry your request and here’s the big one:
3) when it shows up, reach out to meet it.

Chances are you will not tear, just a lovely, beautiful stretch that will remind you how delicious your life can be.