acrylic on paper
This one has a long way to go. Please bear with me.
For the past 10 years I have been listening to NPR while I paint.
I used to listen to music, but for some reason people talking have taken it's place.
I usually only get bits and pieces, because a certain word may trigger a whirlwind of memories or ideas.
Today something must have triggered the memory of learning to swim and all of a sudden there I was in a navy blue one piece with white ruffles swimming to my Dad. I distinctly remember reaching for his beige swimming trunks and missing with every desperate stroke. His backing away and my swimming further; the cruel and continuous dance each father plays on his young child learning to swim. Swallowing more pool water than a poor girl could handle, I kept going. I had to.
I am sure this tactic taught me how to persevere. Teaching me that things that may be within my reach, can only be met by pushing harder.
I will never forget the surprise of looking back and seeing how far I actually swam.
The width of the pool seemed so long and so hard.
I thank you, Dad.
I guess it wasn't such a cruel trick after all.