time ago I was asked to submit a biography of my art career and life. I
really wondered what I could write.
Upon opening the accolade cupboard to see what credits I could
claim for myself, I found it quite void of prizes, ribbons and awards.
For, I have never entered a contest or anything similar to even
compete, and there was no long string of initials after my name.
was born in north
as long as I can remember I have followed the beat of a different
Drummer and a song my peers did not seem to hear.
This calling led me down different pathways than my counterparts,
and for a while my life was rather a solitary one, until I met and
married Dave in 1959.
me, to paint was merely and extension of the explosion with which I
searched for the Drummer Who always seemed a step ahead of my own.
The absolute surety of a Creator behind the wonders of sight and
sound I beheld, was never doubted. The
electricity of colours; the sound of a bird song that
pierced the morning air; the myriads of different life in various
forms – they only fanned the search for meaning to anything at all,
and I began to paint with a little set of oils my dear Mother gave me
for passing through grade eight with honours.
This expression gave vent to at least some satisfaction of
getting a little step closer to the Drummer, but I fell so far short of
can any artist, anywhere, duplicate the life beneath the fur, the sight
behind the eyes, the motion within the members and the pounding
heart-least of all, perhaps myself.
where is the paint that can imitate the shimmer of a spider web in the
sun of noon day, the sparkle of a lake or the gurgle of a waterfall as
it rushes head long over stones, as it has perhaps since time began?
What brand of paint is there to cast forth the fragrance of a wet
horse, or the breath of a frosty morn?
None - anywhere.
the Creator can do it and it is Him Whom I searched for in my art.
For us all then, we fall short of that perfection created in the
beginning, and some, a little shorter than others.
is, however, a satisfaction within, as the explosion comes as close as
possible to the actual subject and we stand back relatively pleased, but
destined to do better. So
what accolades do I have in light of this?
I think none. The
success of our Studio, named Al Marah after my Arabian gelding, has at
times invaded my world somewhat and my humanness and the desire for
greater things has to be brought in check and I have to bring myself up
short and get back on track.
me, the first priority is the Lord, the Drummer Whom I met years ago now
when I was born again, after many years of painting and searching.
My profession has taken Dave, my British husband and manager and
have stayed in farmhouses with shepherds and the origin and age of the
place has been lost in the march of time, as the fog still rolls in from
the sea to coat the bedroom windows with joy.
This is why I paint… it is impossible to contain my wonderment
of it all, and it must escape somewhere.
The sweet singer of Israel, King David, sang it out in the Psalms
centuries ago, and I … paint it out, a mere imitator of the glories of
the natural world and the wonder of the Ancient of Days Who created it.
When it comes down to it, I am an artist. I paint because I love to, as
an expression of my love and gratitude to God, no matter what becomes of
it. I consider the success
we have had with all the aspects of this talent, and the galleries with
which we deal an added blessing. The
greatest blessing however - of this I am sure - is when my husband
closes his hand over mine, and I can look into my beloved companion’s
face, then I am the richest woman in the world.
I am on top. I have arrived.
My painting is in its proper place.
Then I need no credits to my name, for I am painting for the sheer love of it, and the rest doesn’t matter at all.