Dis 'n Dat

Happy Trees

I switched shifts with the morning receptionist at work this week so my afternoons have been free to get my "to-do" list done. So yesterday I needed to have some pictures develped of Trot (my family has threatened me with my life) and I decided on the one hour gig at Wally World. I really didn't want to drive all the way home and back so I went to Michaels, the craft store, and decided to mill around and look at yarn and other knitting notions to waste time.

Every time I walk in that store, I'm flooded with memories. I remember my mom dragging me there on so many occasions and of course I went kicking and screaming all the way. The older I got the more I liked going. One thing that is the same no matter what Micheals you go to is the way it smells. I wish I knew how to decribe it, but I don't think I could paint a very accurate picture. All I know is if you blindfolded me and and took me into a million different stores I would know if we were in a Michaels.

I started wandering down the many aisles filled with various craft ideas and projects until I came to the yarn section. I love touching and feeling all the skeins; picturing all the scarves and sweaters I would love to make for myself.

I looked at my watch and had a half hour to go before the pictures were ready so I thought why not keep perusing the aisles. Stamping, beadwork, flower arrangements; hell, even some of the Christmas crafts were out. I ambled slowly up and down wishing I had the time and money to invest in various craft hobbies. Over the years I dabbled in a bit of this 'n that. As a kid it was latch-hook , cross-stich , even a touch of scrapbooking in high school. Eventually I came back to knitting.

But as I made my way to other end of the store there was my secret passion. Oil on canvas. I took art my senior year in high school. It was either that or band and I really didn't want to commit myself to such an endeavor. I was busy enough with other extracurricular activities that didn't make me look like a complete geek.

Anyway, our teacher was a very talented and sweet lady. She had given me art lessons as a small child (by mother's insistance of course). The class was awesome. There was no emphasis on talent. You were graded on attitude and attendance. We didn't study light and objects and perspective and all that jazz. She just gave us various art books and told us to pick out a picture that we liked. After that it was a canvas, paints, brushes and off we went. It was so free. She would come by and help us with a particular stroke or if we weren't getting a color blend quite right.

I stood there looking at the familiar colors: yellow ochre, sap green, ultramarine blue and burnt umber. I could even smell the linseed oil. It was so fabulous. And then I saw him. The happy tree man himself, Bob Ross. I thumbed through some of his books and remembered how I had copied at least 3 of his paintings my senior year (I still have 2 of them).

And that's when I decided then and there that I was going to take up painting again. I started looking at prices and honestly it wasn't that bad. Lord knows what I've spend on food in my life and we all know where that got me. Then I thought, that's it. That's how I'm going to reward myself for my weight loss (4 pounds so far!! ). I'm going to slowly build up a little painting studio. I'll have to make room in the basement, but I don't care. It will give me an excuse to clean that up too. Goodness knows it needs it.

I looked at my watch to see if it was time to get the pictures and they had been ready for a least 1/2 an hour! Time flies when you're surrounded by happy memories...and happy trees.