It was lace curtains that oversaw the creative muse of generations of artists in my Mother’s very close extended family. Growing up around a hodge podge of art forms was like being surrounded by magic; a place where dreams truly came alive on canvas or in clay or stone.
Yet, it was the lace curtains in my Grandmother’s house that have stayed with me the most. The windows were almost always open…as much to let the paint fumes out as to let a cool breeze in. Those curtains watched over me as my mother rocked me in that room as a baby, while others painted or talked about art.
Those beautiful Lace curtains gently rustling in the breeze that over saw all the family happenings. They were there at births, at marriages, and when goodbyes were said. The room where they hung was the gathering place of children playing with gifts at Christmas. They spoke of romance, and love and an era long gone now, and a family with roots that reached from coast to coast and beyond generations.
As I have grown older, I find beautiful old lace can open a floodgate of memories. Memories of Artists chatting, and creating; of children laughing and playing. But mostly thoughts of the very deep roots one can put down in a place where they are well and unconditionally loved. And of the wings one can grow when they are allowed to believe anything is possible.
I enjoyed reading about your family being artists…… In the beginning of the story I didn’t realize that you had grown up this way. It would be cool to introduce the cast of characters that made up your family and see what each one did. I would love to have grown up this way. I am an only child and no one is creative or artistic in my family. They are more the intellectual type and I always felt like I was a misfit. Nobody ever gets their hands dirty….. actually no one works with their hands at all.
I love your story. My parents really didn’t get the artistic side of me. I’m certain they tried to support me the best they could. But this makes me wonder, “What if…” Thanks for sharing.
Mindy, That was one of the suggestions Cynthia had too…so I think for part of the triage, I will add little anecdotes about growing up in around so many artists. Well you certainly broke the mold for your family. :) Don’t feel like a misfit, think of yourself as a trendsetter for others. *grin*
Thank you for posting Dawn. I love hearing these stories. Your family was great for supporting you. I think we all…perhaps especially artists have that doubting side of us. As a sculptor I always felt like the blacksheep of the family because I didn’t paint. LOL. Just keep going with what you want to do. :) cyd
Hey Cyd,
I love your story. Beautifully written.
My story is more like Mindy’s except that my mother did a lot of sewing and crafts. But I came to art slightly later than normal and finally went to art college when I was in my early 40’s. It was a super experience going at that time of life. It must have been amazing growing up in a family of artists.
Hi Janice. I’m so glad you liked this story. It seems kind of funny talking about curtains. I was afraid everyone would think I’d gone off the deep end. LOL. I think it is really wonderful that you went to art college in your 40’s. That really shows how much you wanted to create. I think the sewing and crafts is a form of art by the way. Your mom just needed to go one step further. I wonder if she had wanted to? It was a wonderful childhood. Very nurturing. But it really wasn’t until recently that I realized how special it was.