Painting

“Every artist dips his brush in his own soul, and paints his own nature into his pictures." - Henry Ward Beecher

PAINTING

In was around 1986 while stationed at Eglin AFB, Florida I was living in Colony House Apartments in Fort Walton Beach. Working a schedule of two day shifts, two night shifts, then two days off, I found I had quite a bit of extra time. During that period I was able to complete a master’s degree, but the work and school schedule still left me with some extra time. Golf kept me occupied some of the time as well as the night life around the Ft. Walton Beach / Destin hotspots.

Through one of the windows of the first floor apartments I would see an elderly woman painting. She would paint near her window, working in the natural light. I never did paint, but had some interest in learning. One day, out of the blue, I decide to knock on her door and ask her where I would be able to learn. That was the beginning of a special relationship.

Mary Belser was in her early seventies at the time. Probably around 5’4”, silver hair, wore glasses, and a grandmotherly figure. She was a true southern belle, a devout Christian who I attended service with at times, and a fabulous artist. Her small one bedroom apartment had the walls covered with beautiful paintings.

She had a painting class with about 5 women on Wednesday’s and offered to teach me as well; $8 an hour. We fit in the painting lessons to work with my schedule. Once a week I would go over, we’d talk, and she’d teach me to paint.

After a short period of time, it wasn’t about the painting anymore, it was the company. She was single, widowed, alone much of the time and I was single, away from my family, missing the visits with my grandmother I would regularly make.

I learned a lot from Mary. I learned to look at life and pay attention to the details. I learned to look at a tree, and not only see the tree, but the different shades in the tree. I learned how light will change the appearance of something, and how perspective can change. I learned relationships don’t need boundaries between young and old. I learned to listen to someone tell me about their life and how sometimes just being there to listen can make a difference.

I learned that there are good people out there who can make a difference in our lives if we just knock on their door.

I moved. Mary died not too long after. My heart was saddened.

Her painting lives on through me.

In life, we make good friends and develop special relationships. Life happens, people go separate ways, take different paths…..sometimes never reconnecting, but the memories and difference they have made are visible in our paintings.

My canvas is still wet; more to create. But the painting I create next is not nearly important as the paintings I help someone else create.

(NOTE: “THE EAGLE” by David)