I have to preface this post with some insight about me. Most who will read this know that I worked as a classified employee in the public school system for over 34 years. During those years no matter what my job title was I always considered everyone my boss; everyone from administrators to teachers to other classified employees to the students and to their parents. It's my nature. I always put myself in the position of doing things that nobody else wanted to do because the job was too mundane or not important enough to spend the time doing. I always felt those kinds of jobs needed to be treated like they were the most important jobs in the system. My intention was to always give an artistry to the mundane or the seemingly not-so-important routine tasks. It was in that way I could honor all those who I admired in the educaton field...that is if someone were to notice. (And if I am totally honest, I also did it for the steady income and the health benefits.) Even though I enjoyed the jobs I did there was never much fanfare and there was always a downside. Some days were very overwhelming or depressing to my soul. Some days were even humiliating, but I'm pretty sure I never showed just how much a bad day took its toll on me. Except to those who cared to notice. Because of this I learned to be like a purple rubber duck. If you don't already know, I'm pretty thin-skinned. A trait some consider to be a character flaw. I always have been and always will be thin-skinned. I see and feel things through a series of vibrations, through my eyes, through my hands, through my skin and in my brain. At least that's the way it seems to me. I valuate this character trait as my secret to being an artist...It's better to let the bad things roll off my back than to develop such a thick-skin that I stop feeling or allowing the vibrations in.
A purple rubber duck sat among the stapler and tape dispenser on my desk at work. It was a gift. A gift from one of my bosses. I think she probably had many rubber ducks in her desk drawer. One for each person she met that took everything to heart. She was good at seeing those things in the people she worked with and in the people she advised. She knew there were people in the world that would never develop thick-skin so other coping skills would be in order. She was one of those school counselors like Michelle Obama just honored. She was an educator in the public school system. A system I truly believe in and value as one of the most important bases of our democratic republic. I only had one other job in the school system after she gave me that duck but it moved along with me and took up residence on a new desk with a new set of interactions and a new set of coworkers.
Fast forward to...yesterday. I thought about that purple rubber duck when I was painting in my studio. At first I thought I had pitched it out with all of the other things I brought home from my desk. But then I realized it was in one of three places from when I last organized my life. I found it in the third place and it is now taking a prominent spot in my studio. Even though I'm retired from my day job, I still need to let things roll.
I thought those days of worry were over but they're not. I've come to realize that no matter what I do in my life, I have thin-skin. It's a fact of my life. There will always be things that bother me. Things that vibrate in a most uncomfortable way. Things that I feel passionate about...things that I didn't realize I feel so passionate about...things that I believe in...things that I didn't realize just how much I believe in them....things that may very well change. Things like the freedoms we value today in our democratic republic. Will they be in place when my granddaughters become adults? Will these freedoms become enhanced and broadened or will my granddaughters experience a more watered down version of today's freedoms or no freedoms at all? Such profound and somewhat disturbing thoughts on a silent snowy day. Thoughts that stir my passion and all the while I painted The Fairy Tree.
Fast forward to...yesterday. I thought about that purple rubber duck when I was painting in my studio. At first I thought I had pitched it out with all of the other things I brought home from my desk. But then I realized it was in one of three places from when I last organized my life. I found it in the third place and it is now taking a prominent spot in my studio. Even though I'm retired from my day job, I still need to let things roll.
I thought those days of worry were over but they're not. I've come to realize that no matter what I do in my life, I have thin-skin. It's a fact of my life. There will always be things that bother me. Things that vibrate in a most uncomfortable way. Things that I feel passionate about...things that I didn't realize I feel so passionate about...things that I believe in...things that I didn't realize just how much I believe in them....things that may very well change. Things like the freedoms we value today in our democratic republic. Will they be in place when my granddaughters become adults? Will these freedoms become enhanced and broadened or will my granddaughters experience a more watered down version of today's freedoms or no freedoms at all? Such profound and somewhat disturbing thoughts on a silent snowy day. Thoughts that stir my passion and all the while I painted The Fairy Tree.
The Fairy Tree
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