Whispering Inspiration

My mother was an acrylic artist when I was young. She fought for time to paint around two children, a husband, animals, and a career. Which means she didn’t paint nearly as much as she desired, and as much as she wanted to see her paintings sell, her talent was never given an unburdened opportunity. But then again, whose talents can ever be considered unburdened?

I remember she was most beautiful with a paintbrush in her hand and paint flecks freckling her skin. I knew not to disturb, but I would watch her from the doorway. And I would sneak into her painting space at night to look at her work. In those paintings, I believe I saw more of my mom than I otherwise would have known. They carried her soul beyond our small life.

My mother and I were complicated. We had really good times. We had really bad times. But we never had a time without love. Even if sometimes that love came in weird shapes, colors, and confused emotions. It was always love.

She doesn’t get to see who I am in person now. She didn’t get to see my first painting. She didn’t get to see the start of Pepper Pod Art, and it hurts to not share these things with her.

But I know she is proud of me. I know she knows I love her and I miss her. And I like to think sometimes when a painting idea strikes me, it is her whispering inspiration in my ear.