The Painting: A Watercolor in Song

In anticipation of my mother’s 79th birthday in 1997, I asked her a few months ahead what she might like as a gift. “Oh,” she said, “you know all I want is a painting.” Gulp. Would’ve been a lot easier just to get her something! The last time I’d painted a picture was a couple of decades back, but for whatever reason, she held fast the idea that I was an artist, and couldn’t imagine why I wouldn’t just crank one out for her. I have a sense she would have been happy with just about anything I’d commit to canvas, but I would have to feel at least a bit of satisfaction with the product to feel it would qualify as a gift.

That summer, Barby and I were out on Lummi Island, and as I was out on a long walk past Legoe Bay and beyond, the challenge of that painting presented itself, and the muse stepped right in to help me out. I’m not sure if it was Euterpe, of lyric poetry; or Terpsikhore of choral song and dance. Maybe they came in tandem, sans the dance–who knows! What transpired then is among my clearest encounters with  receiving creative inspiration in the precise moment in which I needed it. I realized I could not and would not make a painting. But what I could do would be to create a song about the painting I would not be painting. The artistic references then began to flow like the snow melt on a spring day, and my only concern was getting to a pen and pad of paper before those thoughts vaporized. Below is the tune that came for my dear mom that August afternoon, and you can hear it if you go to the “Hear New Music” button on the front of my website.

The Painting

In my memory life’s been in colors; bright since the time I could see

Touched only with shading for contrast; difficult moments that helped define me

But mostly I see well loved bicycles; flashes of paint in the sun

With confidence packed in my book bag, and days full of hope that the world could be one

 

(Chorus): I suppose that I might have done just fine without  you

Could’ve sketched in my life on my own

But the scene in that frame would be sparse in a wash of blue

And my world just could not be the same

 

And I know that you wanted a painting; for so long there’ve been just a few

A picture was all that you’d asked for, and it’s this that from memory I drew.

 

Now when I look in your photograph, contours of life appear clear

May I someday give back to life as much

So a shred of your strength will reflect of my mirror (Chorus)

 

If I raised my brush in your honor, a most complete palette I’d use

For depth in your character transcends the rainbow’s full spectrum of colors and hues (chorus)

 

Yes I know that you wanted a painting; for so long there’ve been just a few

A picture was all that you’d asked for,  but it’s this that from memory I drew.

I recorded the song on a cassette, put it in a cardboard matte inside a frame and wrapped it up for her birthday gift. She managed to hear it before she set off to have her gall bladder  removed that same day, and she really appreciated it, even if she couldn’t hang it on her wall.

On July 6, 2001 Mom finished her business in this realm. With the anniversary of that date upon us again, she’s more on my mind than she often is. I do think of her so frequently, and I often wonder why my thoughts are of her. Is she thinking of me? I love believing that.