On Christmas Eve, 2018, my daughter-in-law, Sarah, gave me a gift. It was a wooden box with fourteen little tubes of acrylic paint. I had a rather skewed opinion of acrylics, thinking that they were somehow inferior to oil paints. Never mind that I had absolutely no experience with either medium. I don't think my foray into paint-by-number sets in the 60's counts. I took a watercolor class a year earlier, but I only lasted for three sessions. The "show off your work" sharing time at the end of each class did me in. Many of the class participants were watercolor veterans and relished this time but I did not. It was like being back in third grade on the school recital day and you're sitting at your desk wishing you had pretended to be sick. At any rate, my artistic career seemed to have ended before it began. Let me know if you need any watercolors.

Anna Mary Robertson Moses began painting when she was 78 years old. You may know her as Grandma Moses. She is internationally renowned as an American folk artist to this day. As a nod to my regard for her work I bought one of her calendars or something similar every year. Grandma Moses was often on my mind when I thought about painting. So there's that. 

Often, when my husband and I were travelling in our car, I would gaze at the autumn trees, all russet and gold in the distance, or the ramshackle farmhouse with the faded red barn nestled against a shadowy hillside, or the spindly grey trees splayed against a blue winter sky and think wistfully, "I wish I could paint that." My husband has only a vague recollection of ever hearing me say that and is continually amazed at my new found passion for painting. I'm just glad I can still amaze him after forty years. 

I painted my first little canvas in April 2019. When I showed a photo of it to an acquaintance, they said they would be interested in buying something like it. I was floored. I had never even considered the idea that anyone would want to buy one of my paintings. My more mercenary tendencies kicked in and I opened my own Etsy shop in June 2019. When I sold my first painting I felt like I'd won the lottery. Well, part of it, anyway. It is quite a compliment when someone likes your work enough to pay for it. I never get over that, but mostly I don't get over how much fun I'm having when I'm painting instead of just being wistful about it. 

Is there a lesson in all this? 

Follow your dream?  

Find your own path? 

Fulfill your destiny? 

Eat your vegetables? 

Actually, there is truth to be found in all of those little mantras, (except if the vegetable is okra, but I digress). The bottom line for me was really this. I didn't want to end up at age 78 just buying Grandma Moses calendars. So, thank you, Sarah, and thank you, Grandma Moses. 

What are you not doing that you would love to do? You'll be 78 before you know it. Do it and then tell someone. They'll be amazed.