A New Beginning

Well, yet another year has slipped by and my list of accomplishments is once again very small. I did not get very many of the things I wanted to do this finished. Of course, there were a few monkey-wrenches thrown at me which interfered with my plans. My career took off in a whole new direction and my artwork was set aside for he time being. The good thing is I have another year ahead to get these things accomplished. I feel much more confident this year and I am hoping to do both my artwork and my other career, both with success.

I hope you all had a good holiday and are looking forward to starting a new year. I wish you all the best in whatever you are doing and I hope you will leave a comment to let me know what your hopes are for the new year. Take care of yourself and your loved ones.

What Art Comes From Abuse?

Many of you know that I am an artist. I try to make my art show the world in a nice way, the way I want it to be, not the way that it is. Perhaps this is a lie, a huge fraud. My goal is to change as much of the ugliness of the real world as I possibly can. To show that a person can come from ugliness and horror to view the world in a positive way and bring change in small ways. If we all do this, these small amounts of change will amount to immense change.

If I paint the bleak, desperate, ugliness of my childhood, I allow the abusers to win. I choose to take that power from them and be happy and spread happiness in spite of what they did to me. Perhaps this will torture them, knowing that despite their best efforts to kill my spirit and control me, I have risen above them and now hold the power.

As a child, I read a lot. I learned that there were families who were happy and loving and this knowledge saved me. I knew that if I could survive I would find happiness. I had my imagination and I lived in a little perfect world inside my own thoughts. All those hours locked in my room with the covers pulled over my face were spent in this imaginary world, not the world of fear that the abusers wanted me to be in.

So, my paintings reflect the imaginary world, the world of peaceful streams and meadows; the beauty of nature; and the absence of abuse. Its what you don't see in my paintings that tells the story. If you are interested in seeing the art I create, drop by The Creaky Easel for a visit.

Power Struggle

You often see headlines about children who are abused and tortured and even killed by their own parents. You wonder what kind of mother or father would do such things. The parents often have come from a very similar background. Sometimes though, they come from a normal home.

I came from such a childhood. When I decided to bring children into the world, I knew one thing...... they were not going to suffer as I did, they would be raised well with full bellies and hugs and kisses.

Other people who are abused perpetuate the cycle, abusing their children who in turn grow up to abuse theirs. These are the parents who shock me most. How can you treat your children like that when you know how it feels to be on the receiving end?

It appears to be a power struggle. People who are frustrated and powerless in their own lives find a way to have power over the weaker ones. I do not accept this as an excuse. When you become an adult, you make your own choices, you can reason things out and choose to change. It isn't easy and we stumble along the way but we try and we keep on trying until we die and we change one tiny little insignificant corner of the world at a time. That is the power. Real power is changing the cycle, breaking the mold, making the world better.

What Kind of Mother?

What kind of mother would take her 5 year old son to Wal-Mart and leave him alone in the McDonald's there while she shopped? When I saw this happen the other day, I was shocked that it still goes on in spite of all the news broadcasts, magazine stories and TV shows about how children get abducted.

You could tell by the way the mother roughly shoved her son into the seat and yelled at him not to move until she got back that his home life was far from ideal. Having grown up in a similar environment myself, my heart went out to the little fellow. All the help lines in the world do not stop children from being abused. Children who are abused at home are too afraid to make those calls. Surely society has figured that out by now.

Everywhere you go nowadays, you see children who need a firmer hand. This misbehaving little monsters need a swat on the bottom to know mom means business. These parents are afraid to use corporal discipline or social services will come knocking on their door to take away their children. A swat on the behind is not abuse, it gets their attention and they learn that mom and dad are there to guide them. They obey and learn. These undisciplined monsters are turning into undisciplined teens and adults and it is sickening to see. Everything is me, me, me.

Then you see the other side of the coin, the children who are terrified of making mom and/or dad mad. Their scared little faces haunt me. I want to take them all home and give them a loving environment. Social services does not go knocking on their door - often they are too scared of the parents who fly into a rage when they appear so they leave these children to fend for themselves. They make themselves busy with taking away the child of a mother who has put up with her child's tantrums long enough and has put the little one over her knee and paddled his behind.

What kind of mother are you? What kind of mother am I? Certainly no saint here, I made my share of mistakes along the way. My children were spoiled rather than abused but I also used a swat on the behind to keep them in line until they learned the social skills necessary for life.