Over the summer I went to see my brother’s band play at a concert in our local park. I ended up buying a painting from an artist (wife of one of the guys in the band) who was painting as they played. I bought something she had already finished. It took my breath away when I saw it. It is a small bird, a sparrow perhaps, but I was literally drawn to it. I really had no business buying anything as I believe my rent was late that month and bills were piling up, but I couldn’t leave without it. My lovely husband recognized my dazed look instantly and didn’t even try and talk me out of it. We called it an anniversary present only it was just for me. I brought it home and hung it over my bed and called it “our picture”.
I myself was a little astounded at the hold this painting had on me. I just kept telling everyone ” I don’t know what it is but I just love it. ” It wasn’t until the next day when my better half said ” you know why you love it right?” I was amazed and confused to think he could explain what I could not put words to. ” It’s your dad.” I stood in the kitchen dumbfounded. How did I not get it. It was so obvious.
I suppose I should back track a bit and give you a little more info. In previous posts I have told you about my dad. He was a pilot for a brief moment in his life but I still believe it was something he carried with him always. I remember him taking me and my siblings up to a hill in the town where I grew up that sat just above LAX. We would watch the planes coming and going and he really seemed to be in awe. I also remember when a friend of his used to fly model airplanes out in a vacant field on Sunday afternoons. It was so much fun to sit on the rear gate of our station wagon and watch these grown men play with their remote control air planes. I know my dad loved to fly and I loved to see the pictures of him standing out near the air field. When my dad died, I had this vision of him flying, unencumbered by machinery or distracted by the noise of an engine, like a bird soaring through the sky. I also believe he is with me all the time and in a very meaningful way. I think in small ways he lets me know that he is with me. I often sit in my kitchen and look out the window at a small ficus tree I have. Often a sparrow lands on the branch and just sits for a moment. Not a crow or a pigeon or some other large bird but a small and gentle sparrow. I know my dad is letting me know he is still here. The thought of this is what inspired me to write the fist song that then inspired me to try and finish my first CD in twenty years.
Weeks after I had bought the painting, I was sitting on my bed playing my guitar, like I always do. I had reached a point of frustration and stopped, guitar in my lap, to rest my head against my palm and I suddenly had a vision of the cover of the CD. It’s where I do most of my writing and thinking and screaming and crying etc. ……. all of it under that beautiful painting. I know it may seem strange to think of the cover when I haven’t even begun to record anything but I try to think of it as a vision to assure me that it will come to pass. I cling to that picture in my head to remind me that I can get it done. I think I even know the next step I am going to take……but that is for another post. I will keep you….well……posted.