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Bucket List.  Our recent hot air balloon ride was likely interpreted by others as a check on the list. But, in fact, it just seemed like a great way to celebrate my husband’s birthday. For the record, I don’t have a bucket list. Perhaps “my bucket’s got a hole in it.” Maybe my list items will leak out and be forgotten like broken promises.  Or, more likely, I don’t have a bucket list because I don’t want more in my bucket. I am thinking of stuff and stumbling blocks. Objects and obstacles. I am simplifying and scaling down. 

Recently I visited Studio C to watch Elizabeth Carr’s art demo. I like her art and was curious about how it happens. But I knew going in that I would probably not utilize her techniques. I was never going to invest in a gel printing plate, liquid acrylics, fine line applicators, or a hot glue gun. After all, I had just gotten rid of a light table and two airbrushes, which I hadn’t used in decades.  And, aside from the acquisition aspect, I am not prepared to engage in a new major artistic exploration.

In fact, it seems that I could easily make a list of things I will NOT do. For starters, I will not wear pantyhose, run a mile, or eat snails. But I will stop there because a f**k-it list is not productive or healthy. Especially since I do have drive and enthusiasm.  When it comes to painting, I simply want to get better. I am always striving to create paintings that are cleaner, more vibrant, and more interesting. It will take me many years to become an outstanding painter. Only then will I kick the proverbial bucket.

A dream. Last night or, rather, early this morning I had an interesting dream.  I was a prison guard and one of the inmates had a history of prison violence.  However, this inmate was a talented writer and painter.  I persuaded the powers that be to provide a room for him to work.  I was willing to risk my safety and guard him while he wrote and painted. I remember that I was particularly concerned about sharp pencils. Then I woke up.

My first analytical thought was rather grandiose…I took it upon myself to rescue art from oblivion. It’s hard to believe that even my unconscious mind would entertain that idea. Perhaps, the dream was about discovery, stewardship, or support of hidden artists. I certainly like this better.  And, since it was my dream, I’ll go with that. 

Now that I have offered this notion, I must play with it. There are actual artists, suggested by my dream, that are hidden because they are marginalized, controversial, uncertain, untrained, or overshadowed by assertive and established artists.  Needless to say, there are many. The question is, are our communities equipped to nurture and encourage their creativity? Can we bring these artists out of hiding?

Locally, I am pleased to see that the City of Claremont granted money to organizations supporting the arts. I applaud the efforts of the Claremont Community Foundation. And the dA Center for the Arts is the venue for the safe exploration of creativity and expression. I hope that those of you in other communities also utilize and support your opportunities to create art. This is my dream.