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Four years ago when my art teacher suggested that I publish a calendar, I immediately dismissed the idea. “I have no interest in doing that,” I said. “No one would want to buy such a thing!” Then a couple of days later, for no reason I could explain (even to myself) I decided to see if I could find 12 paintings good enough to include in a calendar that I could give away (since I was still pretty sure no one would want to buy it).

Within two weeks, I had changed my mind, picked the paintings, ordered the calendars, mentioned it on Facebook, and sold every single calendar. Wow. How did THAT happen?

Year two I hesitated. Could I really pull it off again? Yup. It happened again. And I was every bit as astonished as I was the first year.

Year three was tough. I chose 12 paintings and then one by one deleted them from the queue, convinced that they were all garbage and I couldn’t possibly expect to do this three years in row. Those who love me gently pushed. Once again, they sold out before Christmas.

This year has been easier. I didn’t spend long hours worrying whether this or that painting was “good enough.” I simply chose my favorites and placed my order. It all seemed routine and unemotional until the first email came from PayPal, “You’ve Got Money!” The six-year-old artist in me squealed with delight. She loves to paint. I love her paintings. And when someone else loves them, too, it makes me giddy. Every time. Not because someone approves of my work, but because a kindred spirit likes my “child’s” artwork.

Thank you to all who take the time to look at my paintings, buy calendars, and tell me what they see when they look at my artwork. It’s so much fun to share the process with enthusiastic supporters. And the money I get from selling the calendars? Well, I use that to buy paint, paper, and brushes . . . enough to keep the six-year-old artist in me busy and happy.

(For more information about the 2018 calendar, click here.)

 

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August 2014

these are my doodles as I dream about bike riding in Volcanoes National Park in Hawaii on my 60th birthday

 

I’ve been thinking lately about what it takes to create a memorable summer. Seems like the sort of thing Adventure Barbie might enjoy though, don’t you think?

If asked to pinpoint the best summer of my life so far, I’d be weighing carefully the summers of 1967 and 1984. Both deviated from the norm; each changed my life in important ways.

Go Lite Travel TrailerNo more than two days out of 7th grade, Mom and I packed the Go Lite camping trailer, hitched it to the back of an International Harvester pickup truck and headed for Indiana, the farm country where my mother was raised. We spent four weeks visiting my aunts, uncles, and cousins before heading back to Nebraska so that Dad could join us for the next leg of the journey.

We spent the entire month of July exploring Colorado, Wyoming, Arizona, New Mexico, Nevada, and Utah. I swam in the Great Salt Lake and hiked in the Grand Canyon. I waited impatiently for Old Faithful to erupt and enjoyed playing cards with new groups of kids as we changed campgrounds nearly every night. I wrote post cards to my friends at home and learned many ways to entertain myself during the long drives between sites.

Go-Lite0002In August, Mom and I traveled alone once again. I remember visiting Brookfield Zoo in Chicago, my uncle’s candy store in northern Michigan, and my twin cousin in Minnesota. On my 13th birthday I was diagnosed with pneumonia, and I struggled to prepare for my impending demise. No, I didn’t feel THAT bad, but I was convinced it was a terminal illness and that people were just being kind by saying I would be okay.

Thirty years ago this week in 1984, I voluntarily left employment as a secretary in corporate America. After Memorial Day I officially began full-time as the owner and operator of Happy Fingers Typing Service, the first secretarial service in our city to offer cutting edge “computerized word processing.” That, too, was a summer of adventure as I took on the many challenges of self employment.

The experiences of both of those summers are important to the person I am today. In 1967, I had plenty of time to imagine what I wanted for myself as an adult. I believe many of my ambitions and dreams were planted during that summer of discovery. I’m also immensely grateful to my 29-year-old self for her determination, courage, and resourcefulness as she set out on her own. My life has been shaped time and again by the challenges and opportunities of owning my own business.

Now, as I count down the weeks to my 60th birthday in August, I’m determined to make this summer memorable, one with ample doses of discovery, challenge, and adventure. This summer I am committing to stepping outside my comfort zone; to making choices that will boost my levels of courage, compassion, and creativity; and to allowing you, my readers, to hold me accountable for Creating The Best Summer of My Life (so far). Stay tuned for Regular (dare I commit to weekly?) Progress Reports.

 

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