Every 10 weeks, over the last few years, I have experienced an isolated moment of crazed panic while sitting gracefully at my desk. My eyelids pull back slightly over my eyeballs, I stare glassily across my studio, my breathing becomes shallow and I slow down to a stillness that, if you know me really well, is unusual on a normal working day.
My reality is, that my latest invoice for my art class has arrived in my email inbox.
This state of physical stagnancy is purely an external manifestation of the need for all energy to be in my brain. Every brain cell has kicked into uncharacteristic high-speed-action-business-mode (which for me, inspires flashbacks from my days in the corporate threshing pit), and is figuring out how (as the single mother of a perpetually starving teenage son), where and when I’m going to make those funds available to pay over to my delightful educator.
What I must emphasize, is that the time period of the crazed panic is so brief in the greater scheme of my life. A mere 3 seconds at the most. What, do you ask, could be the reason why I don’t crumple into a hot mess and just give up?
My answer for you: passion.
Passion. A word that carries such intensity even as you say it and the ‘Sssshhh’ slides past your teeth. But if you have ever felt this word, you’ll totally get why I am blissfully happy to keep my fridge half empty for many weeks (it’s a biggish fridge!) and deal with the teenage melodrama that ensues.
I’m not alone in this passionate state for these classes once a week. There is a group of incredible human beings who arrive at our classroom at Peter Clarke Art Centre (originally called Frank Joubert Art Centre), loaded up with canvases, drawing boards, art bags and boxes with every colour of paint and pencil crayon known to man. We are ready to receive feedback and constructive advice on whatever we are working on at the time from each other, and of course, our very skilled teacher.
These women travel from all over the Cape Peninsula, leaving children, husbands, boyfriends and animals in the quest for us to be together for these sacred 3 hours, and share in the brilliant, highly knowledgeable, gifted teacher that we are honoured to be taught and mentored by.
Over time, some of these glorious creators have moved off into different spaces and places for various reasons, but I still treasure my moments that I have spent with this particular group of women. In my little story, I’d like to honour them for the 3 hours we have shared together once a week (and with some, I continue to do so), and acknowledge the power that such limited time together can have when you share a common passion.
There is something unique about the make-up of each of these women and what I find so interesting is the difference in each women’s paint palette. Each of us has a completely different way of using the hard surface that we choose to put our paint on. Different materials with different colours for different personalities.
Since my childhood, I have found the results of paint on a palette an art form in itself, so much so, that I’ve actually framed two of my late mum’s oil painting palettes along with a palette knife and have them hanging in my studio. Daily I look at these beauties and know that millions of creatives around the world feel what I feel.
Art…my heart is forever yours. Love Kim x
“I am seeking. I am striving. I am in it with all my heart.” Vincent van Gogh