Growing Night Bloomers in the Western Reserve

 

Over the years on my artistic journey, I have seen over and over that my art is not something thing “I do”, rather it is an expression of my life and spirit. My expressions and processes take twists and turns just as my life does. Seasons of art, ups and downs, like the tides, like the passing of night and day. Sometimes I just get up on the “wrong side of my art bed”. The secret is that I must continue to make art with or without an strong inspiration and then as I continue the creative juices will begin to flow. A lot like what I have seen in relationships with those I love, a lot like my life of faith. Sometimes I just don’t feel like loving, or putting the effort into relationships and faith. But when I make a small effort wonderful things happen.

 

 

 

With my mother’s passing in April I found myself “fired” from my long term position as “caregiver”. After that came many emotions, experiences that I was not expecting. I did not realize how much of my life revolved around the role I had as daughter and caregiver.

 

I thought I was too sophisticated to have a “mid-life crises”. Long story short, as I look at the art that I produced since the loss of my mom I am surprised to find that I had put the bright colors aside and subconsciously chosen, silvers, grays and darker metallics. Possibly because for several months I walked in the presence of an ancient one and accompanied her through the valley of Death.   Seeing my mother’s small form lying in her bed of passing, I could not help but face my own mortality.

 

Epiphyllum oxypetalum   “Queen of the Night”

Growing up in Southern California my Grandma lived next door and tended a marvelous garden. One of her prizes was her Night Blooming Cereus. I remember as a child the excitement surrounding there rare blooms in the dark of night. My Grandmother was even known to invite guests for the sweet-smelling experience. With my Grandma’s passing, my parents tended the night bloomers and  continued the celebratory traditions.  Living in Ohio, I  do not have a single gorgeous night blooming cactus to my name.  However, as I look at my art garden, I cannot help but think that I am growing my own night bloomers. Creating  and tending lovely flowers to bloom and smell sweetly in the evening of my life.