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Little Bitty

The smallest act of kindness is worth more than the grandest intention.”Oscar WildeCCI_000038

 

A mountain cottage in the moonlight.

The white picket fence shown like piano keys, untouched playing nothing.

The breeze sways the pickets, almost remembering a beautiful song.

A garden. Flowers that were loved. A lonely dog . . . waiting.

A presence . . . silence.

Something, someone missing. One of us.

Kind, boisterous, generous, opinionated, loving, creative, loud, funny, unique!

Isn’t it interesting how many of us try so hard to make a different and unique expression of ourselves? We go to great lengths to study and imitate others, to change and better our expression, to analyze and scrutinize ourselves and the image we see on the canvas or in the mirror, comparing our skill-set and gifts to someone else’s. It’s how we become and discover our artistic identity. 

Or, so we think.

Yet there are those that have already landed and planted the flag. They seem to just go with it. They learn to accept the depth and breadth of who they are, their failures and fears, their hopes and their distant dreams- and just roll with the impulse. Their vision is fixed; maybe they even have . . . fun!

Our small art community here on the mountain has lost such an individual. And as with any small community, it is akin to a family. So the adage rings true: the loss of one diminishes the whole. It cannot be helped. For a moment, just a moment, we can sense that it is not about an individual’s skills or talents. It’s not about résumés, rules, or how somebody else does one thing better than another- or a comparative anything. It’s about relationships; appreciating the heart of the individual and their expression. It’s about the fragile, delicate balance of each of us . . . together.

For now, we are diminished in some small, yet poignant way, but at the same time enriched; enriched by the boisterous, robust, enthusiastic, no-holds-barred, over-the-top, creative and giving spirit that we have all had the pleasure to know. 

And maybe a little afraid to be like. 

Here,” she said following the family out the gallery door. “Take this with you!” Giving away her art for the third time that day. “And this for your little girl. The colors look good on her!”

Her art . . . her heart.

Thank you, Friend, for reminding us of the importance of the little things that are really very big.

In the immortal words of Alan Jackson: “Might as well share, you might as well smile, life goes on for a little bitty while!”

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