If Life Were a Painting, And I Were the Artist

by ST, 2019

	If Life were a painting, and I the artist, what would I paint (assuming I had the ability)?  A landscape?  I do love landscapes, serene landscapes, and dramatic ones.  I’m not sure all of life could be shown in a landscape—even if it were a collage.  A still life?  Such can be beautiful, with much to appreciate, and details to stare and wonder at—but they are still, and a life of constant stillness does not seem ultimately enriching.  A self-portrait?  I guess any painting I would do would be, in a sense, a portrait of who I am and what seems of value to me.  Yet merely a self-portrait also doesn’t capture all that life is to me, and seems too self-absorbed.  Maybe I could paint life as a bouquet.  A cut bouquet is back to the idea of still life.  What about a living bouquet, like the picture I had my grandson capture of me on Mother’s Day this year (2019), in front of one of my flower pots?  Big bold, gold iris were blooming tall, with three colors of snap dragons below.  Stems of bee balm leaves behind gave the promise of things to come.  Maybe . . .
	A few years ago I was challenged to create a quilt square to represent myself (we were designing a gift for my mother’s 75th birthday).  I gave considerable thought to that, and I think it does represent what I value in life:  I pictured myself as Sunbonnet Sue, feeding her hen and chicks.  It included a barn for provisions, flowers (including sunflowers—not because they are my favorite, but for what they symbolize), a stream, hills, I think a sunrise . . . 
	Yet that doesn’t seem adequate to what I want to create this time.  
	I still like the idea of a living bouquet, with colors my eyes love to drink in.  I don’t want to include clashing colors, nor weeds, even though those are a part of life—even an important part of life.  But I don’t want them to distract from what I hope would inspire those who see my work(s).  
	And yes, I think it should be bold.  Although in general I like soothing colors, and music, if Life were a painting, it ought to be bold.  If it were merely a self-portrait, I don’t know that it would be too bold, even though I hold strong opinions and sometimes voice them, to the consternation of others.
	Line art can be powerful, and black and white—and they have their importance.  But I would want to use color for this painting of Life.  I love blues and greens, purples . . . but reds, yellows, whites . . . even pinks and oranges . . . well, it depends on the arrangement.  Too many colors can be overwhelming to the senses or sensibilities.  I can see myself searching out what each flower symbolizes, beside whether I enjoy its color, shape, variety—just the right amount of variety; each flower complimenting the others in shape, size, color.
	Not everything in Life’s bouquet has to be what nature, and horticulturists, have to offer.  Some glass sculptures or “yard art” also delight my mind, and give expression to my thoughts and ideas.  Subtle difference, I know—thoughts and ideas.  Thoughts can include memories, feelings, connotations.  Ideas are more logical, purposeful constructions.  Of course they are influenced by our experiences and the things we associate with each and groups of ideas, but they still seem less subjective.
	So maybe my painting of Life would have to be a whole garden.  I love my gardens—a combined work of myself and God, and lots of kind people who have helped me.  Even some contracted and paid for their work.  My gardens are not all of my life, but a garden could symbolize Life, even all of my life.  It could symbolize what I think is of value, what I would draw attention to, what I would want to say to the world.  It could include symbols of the less than perfect, the struggles (ants, squirrels, slugs . . . maybe I’ll even have to include some weeds, and some things that need tidied!), but not be so focused on them that you can’t absorb the beautiful into your soul.   Maybe I’m back to a landscape!
	I think I need to ponder this some more.