GIVING BACK

I want to share an experience I had this week. I was invited to a Retirement Community to present a program on creativity - a "show and tell", if you will. In the lovely, spacious lobby of the building, I exhibited several of my paintings and a small table was set up for book signing for Man On the Balcony. Beside the table, an easel held the oil painting I had created for the book cover.

 Residents of the community, their friends and family members visited throughout the day, and most seemed delighted at the exhibit. I didn't know what to expect from that venue, but I came away with the knowledge that I not only brightened their day, but I received from them a gift of insight about growing old. They showed me that an interest in art and creativity doesn't stop when one picks up a cane. I heard story after story of their prior accomplishments. A few of the residents told me they continue to paint or sketch in their apartments. One lady said she had been a member of a dance group who appeared on the Jackie Gleason show. Another was a published author of children's books. Because of their age and circumstances, they may have lost their audience to some degree, but they found an audience in me, a kindred soul who could relate to their past efforts in creativity, and one who was willing to listen and appreciate their stories.  Their collective response to my paintings and writing was a humbling experience. I came away with the knowledge that a love of art and creativity doesn't end with lack of mobility and a few gray hairs. More profoundly, it encouraged me to continue writing and painting as long as I'm able.

I sold a few paintings and a number of books, but had I sold nothing, I would have come away a much richer person. I had been to a party with gift exchange. My gift to them was a break in their usual routine, new paintings to enjoy, and a listening ear. Their gift to me was a greater appreciation of the elderly and the contributions they have made to humanity.

Here is a little poem I wrote:

ON BEING AWARE

I strolled along a country road, God's beauty on every side

The earth was hard beneath my feet, my Soul within me cried.

Suddenly, I heard a mockingbird's call, a gentle wind touched my hair

The glory of nature was there all along, but my heart had not been aware.

My eyes grew clear, the sky turned blue; the honeysuckle smelled so sweet.

The pebbles and stones I had walked on before turned to flowers beneath my feet.

Marie Pinschmidt

Artist & Writer

www.mariepinschmidt.com