I wrote my first blog post a year ago today. I was nervous about starting a blog because I’m a pretty private person. I consoled myself thinking not many would read my writing anyway, we are all so busy, so I went ahead and decided to try it. I posted a crow painting and wrote a very personal piece in memory of my dad who was born on this date. What I’ve discovered surprisingly is that it has been fun to write and express the thoughts and stories behind my paintings. It’s been like jumping in to cold water, it starts warming up after a while. I’ve enjoyed connecting with other bloggers and following blogs that catch my interest. I feel a sense of community with people all over the world. I’m glad I took the plunge.
Speaking of my dad, I think he has been a big influence on why I enjoy writing. He grew up during the depression in Virginia before television. Time was slower then and his family would hang out playing music and listening to stories. He got the story telling gift; he was perfectly at ease being the center of attention and could tell a story that would keep anyone interested. My sisters and I heard fun stories about my dad’s childhood: like hunting for squirrels, or how he pretended to hate whipped cream because he got special attention for that, the way he swept mom off her feet when they first met, their fun first years together and on and on. My oldest sister was an english major in college and is a natural writer, she writes an excellent monthly astrology column, Heavenly Messages, which she posts on her website here. My twin sister is a gifted poet and is planning on publishing a daily Christian devotional soon. I think dad would be happy about his influence on us and I wonder what he would have thought about blogging. Happy birthday Dad, thanks!
Today, October 1st is my dad’s birthday, so he’s on my mind. Whenever I paint a crow I think of him. I’ve been pondering why this is so.
He grew up in Charlottesville Virginia went to the University there. Edger Allen Poe had gone there briefly years before and he was one of my dad’s favorite poets. Dad would recite the Raven especially this time of year as the days shorten and head to Halloween.
My dad had a real love of nature, and he passed that love on to his four girls. Most weekends we drove out to the Alabama countryside. We spent our afternoons running around picking blackberries, playing in the hay, swimming in the pond and creeks. We would spy on beavers and shy away from rattle snakes. There he taught us to ride a horse, fish and shoot a shotgun. He loved bird hunting. He never took us hunting but we plucked many a quail.
I loved this time of year out in the Southern countryside.. The beauty of the dried grasses, cornstalks and few remaining cotton balls along side the rustic barbwire fence against the backdrop of the blue sky with crows flying about. Years later I realize what a gift the my dad gave us. That experience over time got into our bones. That is why I paint birds and other natural creatures. So thank you Dad!