Persistence

What do you know about squirrels?

I know two things.

The first I learned from research: Squirrels’ front teeth never stop growing.

The second I learned from observation: Squirrels are persistent.

You see, Chuck and I enjoy watching birds breakfasting on our well-stocked birdfeeders. The feeders were hardly in place before Mr. Squirrel discovered them. He leapt from the deck railing. He fell. He vaulted from the adjacent tree. He fell. He shimmied up the pole. He fell. He perched on top. He fell. He clung to the wire. He fell. Finally, channeling the skills of an Olympic gymnast, he hung from one paw, upside down, and chomped away.

Although it is annoying to observe Mr. Squirrel gobble meal worms intended for our blue birds, I must admit I admire his persistence. I appreciate the message he communicates to me as an artist.

Just last week I painted a piece that is, frankly, a hot mess. I was disappointed with myself. A couple days later I was rejected by a juror for a show I really wanted to be in. Again, I was disappointed with myself. Enter my dear friend, Pam Seeley. Pam talked me down off the ledge and suggested my intention to trade my paints for a bowling ball is but a lame lament.  

For a day or two I sat in my studio staring at my hot mess and dabbing at woe-is me-tears.  Lucie never left my side. She looked at me as if to say, “Mama, if a rodent can do it, so can you.”

And, you know, Pam and Lucie are correct. I approached my hot mess with renewed energy and enthusiasm and created a painting that turned out to be of my favorites. I titled it Banks of the Danube: Budapest.

What do you think? 

Banks of the Danube: Budapest

Judith Kolva, artist