The blunt shapes and colors: red, pink, blue, white, the big brown hands, the smoke of the train, the birds, the two women in their bright patterned dresses stir me. They say goodbye and my essence says hello. I travel on the train, look out the windows to the backyards where families gather to listen to guitars played by men in railroad overalls. I sit on the porch with the family and look into Madeline’s lush gardens. My hands ache with the work of the day in them and delight in the lift of a baby into my arms. For several hours I move through the Mint Museum’s exhibition of Romare Beardon’s collages, and they take root in me.
These images invite me to cut and paste, to paint and draw, to look out my own windows and create the vista with paper and glue. I lean into the colors and shapes. I back away to see the views through windows in the kitchens of everyday people. I wish I had come earlier so I could come again.
We move to the yarns, weavings and textile creations of Sheila Hicks. Her use of yarn makes my hands want to hold thread and clothe. She gets me thinking. How can I create a piece with color and fiber? The large installations are too costly and big to consider. What could I do at home? Embroidery thread! Available in many available colors and inexpensive, the soft threads would be fun to work with. I promise myself that I will get some soon. I make a mental list of the creations I can feel on the tips of my fingers: collages, fiber sculpture, balls wrapped with ribbon and thread, lines of color side by side on white paper. My energy runs fast the whole day at the museum. An electric buzz permeates my skin and muscles, my heart smiles and my head says, “Create something. Soon.” Something is planted in me that I want to grow. The seeds have roots and I realize once again how important creativity is to my life. It makes me feel whole, open, at peace. It cultivates who I really am.
