Happy #61: Leave something of yourself.

I know it 's been awhile. I got busy. And I got bored with myself.

But there's something I'd like to share with you.

On a few memorable occasions, I have been deeply moved by particular pieces of art. Inclined to favor pastoral images (especially those with water) and portraits if they captured color or light in a way that caught and kept my attention, I consistently brushed by other works of art.

This was a mistake.

Viewing Van Gough's Poplars (on exhibit at the University of Utah some time ago) I had my first experience feeling the energy of art. I can still see the droplets of apple green paint so thick with texture and vivid with color the painting looked like it had just been finished days earlier. (A picture is not included. I couldn't find one worthy to match my memory of the experience.)

This piece truly affected me. I could almost feel Van Gough painting. I will never forget the painting or the feeling I had looking at it.

Van Gough's A Wheatfield with Cypresses at the National Gallery of Art in London (one of the 30 most expensive paintings in the world, a mere $84,000,000.00) struck me much the same way. As did Monet's Bathers at La Grenouillère.

Absorbing these works of art I reflected again on the lives of the artists. Especially Van Gough. I am moved by the masters of these pieces. Not only because they produced remarkable art worthy of gracing galleries all over the world, but because in spite of what they endured personally, these people did something with their work and with their lives that has endured.

They pushed through whatever life was for them and they left something of their lives that contributes to ours. And this is what is worthwhile to me. That we can stand and behold work that is beautiful and meaningful, whomever we are and whatever appeals to us personally, because of what they did.

So here's my happy suggestion #61: Leave something of yourself. And I'm not talking about candy wrappers on the nightstand. Some one thing that will endure. Dig out that paintbrush or drawing pencil or whatever and get to work.

You may not think your work will have any significance. But if it comes from you, it has you in it. And that is significant. And worthwhile.

Even if it's simple. Maybe especially if it's simple.


Mark Rothko's White Center (Yellow, Pink and Lavender on Rose). Painted 1950. Recently sold for $75,000,000.00. (Also one of the 30 most expensive paintings in the world.)

Just do it.