Thursday, 27 August 2015

Painter song. . .

Conversation series: 3rd and final conversation with a beautiful friend. . . 

One of the greatest gifts you have ever given me has the been the painting that you did of my life.
I wasn't expecting to receive such a beautiful and thoughtful gift.  I remember telling you at the time that the irony of being given paintings from my friends as gifts, but I haven't received any gifts of songs (well, receiving original sheet music) but nobody has written a song for me in the same way that you painted a picture for me.

If I were a painter
I would paint my reverie
If that's the only way for you to be with me

When I discovered that you were an artist, I was excited.  I have always been able to connect really easily with fellow artists - visual artists and performing artists - there's just something about the beauty of creativity and the depth of emotion that comes with expressing oneself through something they make with their own hands - whether it is music, or a monologue or a script, or a sculpture, or a photo or a painting. 

We'd be there together
Just like we used to be
Underneath the swirling skies for all to see

What do you think about when you paint?  I'm always fascinated about what goes through people's minds when they create something.  Are they feeling rather than having a paint-by-numbers approach?  I laugh when I think about my own art class experiences as a junior high student.  Teachers tried to get draw trees outside in the courtyard and at the time I thought that was ridiculous because I couldn't relate to what I was supposed to be drawing.  I was much more interested in hearing the sounds that the trees made when the wind would blow through them; it felt like I was hearing a conversation between those tall, imposing trees, keeping some secret from me that I wasn't allowed to hear, but that I knew existed, because I could hear their suppressed chuckles when I strained to hear them.

And I'm dreaming of a place
Where I could see your face
And I think my brush would take me there
But only. . . 

I don't know about you, but when I play the piano, when I'm making the sounds that I hear happen on the piano, it takes me to a place where I feel happy and I can escape in that moment to someplace different.  Do you feel the same way when you paint?  Does your brush take you places because the brush is guiding you in what to paint and how to paint?  I know when I play, I don't even bother to look at the keys that much anymore and rely very much on muscle memory and my fingers know exactly how much to stretch and lift when I attack the keys.  You probably know exactly the right blend of colours to use when you are blending shades together.  You can probably see the painting complete in your mind before you even begin in your mind's eye.  I feel like that when I write a song, I can hear what the finished product is supposed to sound like.  

If I were a painter
And could paint a memory
I'd climb inside the swirling skies to be with you
I'd climb inside the skies to be with you. . .

Thank you for being such a great friend to me.
I wish you all the success and happiness that you deserve because I see it in your future, I see it in the way that you are a nurturing mother to your children and how loving you are to your husband.

Thank you for bringing colour to my life, in all the paintings that you create with not just your actual paintings, but how you paint with everything that is in you, that comes out of you.

I don't think you need to question if you were a painter.
You're actually more than a painter.
You are an artist  :-)