Other Unexpected Joys

Recently I saw the move The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. I wasn't really crazy about it, and then I found out it was based on an F. Scott Fitzgerald novel. And my opinion didn't change. (Yes, I dislike Fitzgerald. No, I don't want to hear any arguments for him)

One scene from the film is stuck in my brain. It's not particularly original, but it just came along at the appropriate time. The married woman Benjamin has an affair with in Russia tells him that she regrets spending her youth waiting for something to happen. She regrets wasting her time, because you can't get wasted time back.

I wouldn't say it motivated me, but that scene is one of many events inspiring me to try harder to not waste my time watching TV. Even if I can't find a better job right now, I can at least spend my free time doing things that I enjoy, that add to my life instead of wasting my time. I don't want to reach middle age and realize that I never lived my life.

I'm eagerly awaiting a shipment of one foot square canvases to finally finish the painting project that I began inadvertently several years ago. On our second Valentine's Day together, Mr. Fuji gave me a thoughtful, encouraging, and unusual gift of two one foot square canvases and a few small bottles of paint. I did not appreciate the gift at the time. Two summers later, I decided to try my hand at painting. I've been drawing all my life, but I had never really painted on a canvas.

It was a summer between semesters and hot, as usual, in my parent's suburban home. I was alone that afternoon, and I spread out some newspaper on the living room floor. I planned out my painting carefully, sketching on a pad first, then experimenting with pastels for the color (which I adore using and smearing and mixing). I painted a symbol of childhood summers so simple that I was embarrassed to call it art. If you have ever been in any of my apartments, you've seen the two paintings. They are dear to me. They are not just images from my heart, but evidence of Mr. Fuji's unfailing faith in my abilities.

I have only recently been convinced that they "count." It took a lot of praise for them to convince me that maybe they could mean something to someone else. I always liked their simple joy, but never thought they could reach beyond my personal edification and be interesting to other people. Mr. Fuji also always loved them, but he was my boyfriend at the time and was kind of obliged to say they were good, so I suppose I didn't quite trust his opinion. It was when his father, an internationally respected artist, finally saw and complimented my art that I was encouraged to continue painting.

I painted my family's Christmas gifts this past holiday season, but I didn't get a chance to continue my series. I wanted the gifts to be more personal, but painting brought the itch back. I will be painting. I wonder if finishing the series in colors will get these images out of my mind.