As the World Turns

Been There

Judith Kolva, Artist

An appropriate painting for my turning world.

Remember the TV soap opera As the World Turns? I do. Back in the late-60s, at precisely 1:30 PM, Mother clicked on our black-and-white TV. There she sat. Glued. No matter what. For the next 30 minutes.

Sure. There were theatrics. But they were coated with real life. The soap’s creator, Ima Phillips, wrote, “As the world turns, we know the bleakness of winter, the promise of spring, the fullness of summer, the harvest of autumn—change is inevitable.”

Does change happen in your life? It does in mine. People often ask, “So, Judith. How did you become an artist?” I answer, “Well, because I changed.”

My career started after I graduated Michigan State University (GO GREEN!) and landed a teaching job.  I then earned a MS in human resource management. I first worked as director of human resources for a Fortune 500 company, and later managed a resort in Maine. Eventually, on a quest to identify meaning in life—mine and others—I left the corporate world and earned a Ph.D. in the psychology and practice of personal history.

In 2003, I started Legacies In Ink. During the next twenty years I preserved family stories in limited-edition, heirloom books.  Legacies In Ink was (and is) a passion. Still, I struggled with “What’s next?” One day, I mentioned, rather casually, to my amazing husband, Chuck Schwabe, that I might want to paint.

My birthday rolled around. Chuck was smiling like the Cheshire cat when he presented me with acrylic paints, brushes, and canvases. Like all modern-day inquisitives, I stalked YouTube. I confused myself by following too many artists and attempting to paint exactly like they did. My paintings felt wrong. I attended wine-‘n-paint events. The wine was good, but I wasn’t into star-struck giraffes. Maybe I should dump my art supplies and buy a bowling ball?

But I enjoyed the process—my process. In 2019, Chuck and I moved from Fort Lauderdale to Hendersonville, North Carolina, where we bought a home, and I set up my art studio. A year passed. I created NOT. A. THING. Frankly, I was scared I’d paint something “wrong.”

Then, through a synchronous experience, I discovered Abstract Expressionism and recognized: That’s Me! My paintings are now free to celebrate vibrant colors, enhanced with tactile textures. I invite you to reach out and touch them. Their abstract, nonrepresentational compositions depict what can be, instead of what is.

My studio bursts with energy and joy. Lucie, my studio assistant, shows off a splotch of color on her chocolate head. My clothes are either covered in paint or waiting to be covered in paint. I am happy—happy to connect with YOU through my artwork.

Lucie, my studio assistant

So. Yes. Change is inevitable. For me, it led to my life as an artist.

What about you?  I’d love to hear from you.