I'm sure in the big scheme of things nobody is really interested in what art work I have sold. And, to some, it's a form of bragging to tell the world about it. But, I don't care, I sold another piece of art work and I'm very happy about it. :)
I create because I need to create. I'm happier when I am creating. When I create something that I feel very good about I feel like I have been working from a good place.
I couldn't find my original recycled, altered Scrabble board that I had done for the March, Art Show.
Because of that I had to start again and that's when this composition came to me. It flowed. It all came together beautifully.
I'm proud of this piece. It's a collaged, paper and paint recycled piece of artwork with lots of layers that celebrates the memory of a beautiful person, who began her working career as a teacher in the Wild West.
I entered this piece along with two others in a Juried Art Show. I did it for the experience. I'm pushing myself to do some things that are uncomfortable for me. Putting a price tag on my art has always been uncomfortable.
I was just notified that the piece sold.
I'm very pleased. I'm hoping that it spoke to someone that was a teacher or knew/knows a teacher. I hope that it hangs somewhere it can be appreciated more, as a tribute to a wonderful woman than just an interesting composition.
Way back I think I posted a blog about my concerns about showing art work at the downtown Senior Center. I worried that the art wouldn't really get the exposure that the group was hoping it would get. I stand corrected, again.
I'm proud of this piece. A part of me is sad to see it go to a new home.
Myrtle was a wonderful person. I'm sure I have talked about her before, in my blog. She was my substitute grandmother when we moved into our first house. By the time my youngest child came into our lives I was spending every Sunday morning visiting with Myrtle. We would have coffee and toast with homemade jam, she would rock the baby and we would talk about things and her life.
Her stories about her teaching experiences out in Montana in the wilds were fascinating to listen to.
Here she was just out of high school, with her teaching certificate, no money, traveling to a place she had never been to, who needed a teacher and were willing to pay her expenses to get her out to them.
From the train she took a wagon, then a donkey to get to the settlement. They had built a small structure for the school but had no where to house her so she took turns staying at the students homes.
These were one room cabins where her bed was often above the loft, up a ladder to the attic space.
She would crawl up there and the one of the parents would then come up and throw a horsehide blanket on top of her to keep her warm.
She told me that when she would wake up in the morning the steam from her hot breath would melt the frost on the ends of the nails sticking through the roof and drip on her face.
She ate her meals with the families, they shared what little they had. ALL of this because they wanted a teacher for their children and she wanted to teach.
She said she never really made any money. She would often send what little she had back home for supplies that she needed for the school.
She taught them well. She loved what she did. She had great pride in how brave she was to go out there to the unknown and make a difference in the lives of those children. Much like many of today's teachers. The tradition lives on.