Stepping Up

In September, my youngest daughter went off to University. I am making a difficult transition into creating artwork, after what feels like so long away. I made a decision a long time ago, that I couldn't do it all. Be a parent, an artist who exhibits and sells artwork, an effective teacher, as well as responsible for running a house, and a business. My decision was partly based on the unique talents of my daughter Solange, a born artist in her own rights, needing and deserving my support. Building a healthy foundation, for another artist. So parenting, and teaching took priority,...until now.
         It's time for Margaret to be an artist again. Yes, I have been painting. A bit. Demonstrating in my classes. Drawing, as much as I can.
        Original, personal statements based on my own ideas, is the goal. Ideas that lift life up out of the ordinary. I kind of think I might know how to sort of go about making this happen,...maybe. It's all about being motivated.
         I found a photo of my grandmother a while ago, and couldn't believe I hadn't seen it before. Maybe I missed it, but how could I? She's got most of her weight on one side, a "real" expression on her face, and the whole body speaks. This is called gesture, and gesture expresses. It's just one of those moments that speaks volumes to me. (and reminds me completely of Solange-big connections). My grandmother, Seepe Walters,  had opinions about everything. She was wise, and intelligent. They don't always go hand in hand. And aware. Alive. I always thought of my grandmother as a person with big ideas, who was pressured to "be" as many women of her era, "acceptable". I'll give you a few examples.
           On my grandmothers first day of school, as she was sitting at her desk, and realized she didn't like this confinement. So she stood up, walked out of the classroom, and went home. This was High Park, Toronto, around 1918.
            When my grandmother was 33, she had an epiphany, that one was supposed to "do" something with ones' life. Ever passionate about politics, she joined her local liberal riding association. She soon learned, that women were welcome to help, they were good at making coffee. Their opinions were not appreciated. Big women, small world.
            The expression on my grandmothers face, expresses everything she endured living in this world, when life could have held so much more. This is my grandmother, standing in front of her Harley. Yes, my grandmother drove a Harley Davidson. A women before her times. The motorcycle symbolizes transport, and I'd like to think it was a conscious choice, to alleviate the pressures of living in a box, and allowing herself, some level of freedom, personal truth.
            To end, I'd also like to say that  my grandmother worked this out. If supported, she could have done more in her life-more for the world. As it was, she did come to terms with her life, lived a true life, that benefited so many. It may look small on the outside, but she gave incredibly, lovingly, meaningfully. She became a pillar in her community, did a lot of volunteering, that still has significant benefit to her community, though she has been gone from us for 18 years.  She figured out, how to live a big life, in small ways.

I call her, DEFIANT.