I am reflecting on this painting today, the one year anniversary of the day my children's schools closed due to the Covid-19 pandemic. The past year has given us both too much time and too little time to reflect on life. I was in the middle of transitioning my eldest son to a new school that day when the world just fell out from under me. I had plans. I had fully renewed my art habit and was exploring business options while serving on a nonprofit's board. I had a gallery show opening in 2 days! I had plans.
I know the boat I was drifting in was filled with many frantic mothers- worried about the cold symptoms my kids were exhibiting while trying to figure out what the world would look like when this was over IN TWO WEEKS. That's right, I thought it would be two weeks, a month tops.
Many unexpected events happened over the past year. We lost loved ones to this virus. My husband bough toilet paper from some lady's trunk. I delivered holiday meals from my oven to strangers found on Facebook. I sewed facemasks instead of quilts. We explored our backyard without friends to visit and then visited the Delaware shore. I found some time to paint but no where to show the artwork. Our schools closed for the remainder of the year. That brings me to the inspiration for "Evergreen Stand."
I get to drive my children to their little country school each morning just as the sun is climbing. Each day we practice our gratitude by praying in the car on our drive over and, y'all, I am so thankful for our school! Our tiny school with small class sizes and its loving community has gotten through this pandemic with very few cases of Covid and with in-person instruction so far. (knock on wood) We've done all the things- spaced out the desks, washed our hands, flooded the place with hand sanitizer and masks. It has worked and my children are absolutely thriving in this blessed environment, growing in every way, especially in their care for others. One morning, I saw the rising sun and our school beaconing through the trees and I knew I had to express the beckoning welcome of seeing the light on the other side of the tunnel, of being pulled though one thing to get to
what is inside.
No, you aren't supposed to see our school in this painting, but I hope you will feel the draw of something you love in those trees. And I hope that feeling gives you a pause in this chaotic life.
Check out the video of my hands making this painting! This 10"x8" watercolor on 100% cotton is available for purchase. Contact me at JennaMinorKline@gmail.com for details.