CH 2 My Life , Building a Dream
It had been 15 years since I had painted, drawn or created anything. No one asked me to quite doing it. I just slowly gave it up, on my own. It was, after all just a little hobby. I felt like it was causing some inner conflicts, in my life. It was really no ones fault. I never really knew what I was going to paint. I would just pick a color, pick a brush & start sweeping the page. After a few minutes I would stand back to see what places, people or things were showing up showing up. Then I would just go with it. I was having fun playing & teaching myself as I went. My Ex wouldn’t understand this. He questioned, why I always ended up painting woman into my work. I had no real explanation, except that I was indeed, female so my energy was probably femine as well. I also knew, if I painted a man. The opposite question would cause a far greater argument, like who it he?? I did not want my painting to cause conflict. I was just having fun, learning how to use the different kind of mediums. Painting & drawing had become new passion. I loved it.
If you are an artist or even a doodler everything is a work in progress. I imagine the observer see’s things far differently, then the artist. They just see the physical work, not what’s in the artists mind or the intention within it.
I am guilty of changing a painting, in the middle or taking it tooo far. I was always trying new things. I would also try to create or recreate a certain look. So I would keep working it & working it until one thing became another, then another and so on.
We lived in a very small, 716 sq ft home. It was a tiny little thing. Until it was dry, my art was for everyone to see. I decided to just quit painting people into my pictures, even if I saw them trying to creep in, I would ignore them. I just painted oceans scenes & places to get away. It was my cheap fun escape, a little mental from the day. When I painted, my heart felt free, to be or do, what ever I wanted.
One day my Ex commented. “Why don’t you just stop? You always keep going & you just end up changing it. It was better before?” Now, it was a fair question, he wasn’t wrong. We didn’t argue about it. Infact, I don’t know if I even responded. I just stared to feel like my painting was something that I no longer wanted to share. It was feeling different. I felt guilty; I was spending too much time on nothing of value. I don’t know, maybe it was, that I began to feel uncertain & self conscious about everything I was doing. It was no longer something that gave me peace. It was no longer fun. So one day, I just put it away.
Some may say, it was my choice to give it up, because it completely was. I did not talk about it. I did not announce I was quiting. I just quietly gave it up. No one ever asked me why I quit. No one brought it up. No one mentioned or noticed that I put everything away in a box and shoved it the closet. Everyone just went about there day.
I never realized how much pain and resentment I boxed up with those dreams. As time passed and no one asked, the seal on the box became stronger & harder to open. Years later, after my Ex & I had split. I took out my brushes & I intentionally surrounded myself with the chance to paint. I wanted so desperately to pick up my brushes again. But I had an emotional block stopping me. I couldn’t do it.
One day, I got gutsy & wanted a change so I took an old canvas painting of an ocean off my wall & with great attitude, I painted the darkest blackest abstract art I had or have ever done. I named it:
“Dancing & Crying”
I realized then that life had broken my heart & crushed my wings. I feared that I may never again paint from the place in my heart, that I once had. My spirit had gotten lost or changed somehow. It was a great moment of realization. I loved my painting, I was strong & I would be ok ….. It was just another lesson in life to learn.. Hearts change & we make sacrifices, that’s life.
Soon the boys were gone… My son and all his couch surfing friends had found lives. They no longer needed a momma.
This was a good thing. It was now time for me!!! It was time to run naked, eat what I want and row the boat just for me. I was free!!!
So here I was, in the middle of this crazy snow storm, painting and praying for answers. Looking for directions to point me the way. Positive energy & faith, had always steered my life safely through, the roughest waters. I always believed that good things can come from “all” situations good or bad. This philosophy, has never let me down.
I believed that I would find the perfect answer, in this perfect storm. The day after I picked up my paintbrushes. I saw a comment from a friend posted on Facebook. It was about his disappointing experience @ an Airbnb. His post peaked my interest. The next day, I saw an ad for Airbnb, so I clicked it to see what it was.
Little did I know, it would be the answer I was praying for. It would be the business I could put in my home. It would be my saving grace. Something I could start for very little money and expand a little at a time. It had everything I was praying for and more.
Air bnb, is world wide company. They had great advertising & an amazing website with search engines, that lead customers right to my home. It just what I needed to launch my dream. Everything I needed was right at my fingertips. All I had to do was build my room, take pictures, write a description & agree to give them 3-5%, for handling everything. The customer paid them and they paid me. It was simple easy and straight forward. They even insured every host with a million dollars in coverage, incase a guest caused damage to my airbnb.
I was on cloud nine. It was a miracle. I actually found away to get paid for doing what I had done my entire life. I would essentially be taking care of people in my home.
My retirement was cashed in. I was ready to build a dream on a penny.
I had no doubts, this was going to be the most amazing adventure, I had ever been on. Without fear I began to build my airbnb website. I just took the idea & jumped without a chute to my dreams!! It was an exhilarating day.
To be cont.
CH3 – My airbnb journey and the sacrifices I made to get there.
Debbie Smalley (Deb’e)
mywings.blog 