A day of connections at work

One after another, the folks came by and interacted with me. I suppose I had an inviting charm, even just sitting there, facing a wall, holding a paintbrush and focused intently doing my thing. Today I welcomed them in, starting conversations and asking deep questions about their lives. I am not sure what they are thinking in those moments of disturbance - in that time when they say something aloud to me - but some days I appreciate the distraction away from the work, and others I am irritated and annoyed. It oscillates between the two, and I imagine it is because of an imaginary (but very real) reserve of energy, from which one day I pour myself fully out and the next I pay for leaving myself not a trace of it. The dry spell of the next day slows me down and leaves my skin and eardrums extremely sensitive.

Yet I live for these moments. Connection with strangers, doorways to sameness, to relating, to understanding, to being seen, to perhaps change someone's life with one smile or one word of encouragement. Cyril was a friendly indigenous man who started speaking of his adult life without a partner, raising children and believing that "to be a man, and to have anything worthwhile to give a woman, he must be well off and have something to give her". The whole story of man as provider. Then there was Lee, a retired insurance broker with a tiny dog who explained that now that she has moved here post-retirement from Toronto and her sight has diminished "first 20/20, then 20/40, then 20/60", she is waiting for it to get bad enough to claim her horrible sight on her insurance to get "New Eyes", a new technology which looks like goggles but gives the blind new eyes! She also mentioned her investigative nature, reading crime sci fi novels - 5 a month or so compared to 5 a year - and her love of solving problems and finding solutions. I also met Jimmy, a man on a bike with a helmet full of rainbow stickers, who saw my attention to detail and asked me for my information as he'd like me to airbrush his motorcycle. Yesterday Clay showed up, a man living in Tiny Town, appreciating and really connecting with the artwork, with such a good understanding of colour and line and composition and theme and meaning, it blew me away. 

It's nice to write their stories. It's nice to focus on others.