On The Gift of Painting

It’s a beautiful Sunday morning, and Rick felt like painting outside where he could enjoy the air, birds, and golfers.

That’s the great thing about a portable easel. It’s portable.

I love it when he’s painting. It feels like the world is right and as it should be.

The feeling is the same as when I was a little kid in the basement “rec room” on a Saturday afternoon, with my Mom noodling away at her sewing machine, my Dad at his workbench sanding a piece of balsa wood for a model airplane, and a hockey game play-by-play streaming from the radio on his workbench.

Maybe the smell of the oil paint reminds me of the model airplane glue, or maybe it’s just the pace in the air of loved ones at leisure, poking away at things they get lost in with no deadlines in sight.

I’ve heard it said that “knowing when to stop” is a critical skill in painting. I think another equally important aspect of painting, at least for Rick, is knowing he doesn’t have to stop until he feels like it.

What a gift! To have a talent and interest in something that is so absorbing, challenging, expressive, releasing, grounding, and satisfying all at the same time…

… And then to also have the time and money to be able to do that thing.

It’s almost as good as being able to photograph and write about it on a beautiful Sunday morning.

horse art

3 thoughts on “On The Gift of Painting

  1. keith

    I’ve been known to do many amazing things with my hands, but painting was never one of them…Ricks talent always astounds and inspires me.

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