On Maudie
I've been having a lot of conversations with people recently about capacity, ability … innate, latent, guided, tenacious.
Quickly did I learn that asking: "Why can't you?" is offensive to the people and makes them think that I'm calling them "a bunch of pansies" (King Julien, 1:30, don't get your knots in a short).
"Why?" is the reasonable question, "why not?" is ludicrous.
So I don't phrase it that way.
But in my meandering, mostly meaningless attempts at tact I bury the lead so deeply that the confusion is real. This particular kind of cognitive dissonance between what I know to be true and everyone else - mostly through confusion as to the point - trying to convince me I'm wrong, or too direct, brings about intense physical pain and psychological distress.
The calluses on the bottom of my heels must come off, now. And of course, in this state, I am not rational or sympathetic and carry the de-skinning too far. This has been the sixth night of intense nightmares, sweating profusely while being so cold, and days feeling like I am made of lead and ice. Also, I think I'm allergic to inflammation because my nose won't stop running even though I'm taking my cetirizine.
The last time this happened was the 80 sit ups fiasco because I did "whatever you can in the allotted time". I sometimes forget how much I can damage myself without it being comprehensible to the others.
A dear friend mentioned that my latest painting of the Carpathian Mountains in Ukraine reminded them of Maud Lewis. I had never heard of her and I'm so glad she was brought to my attention. Her story is lovely, and understands me.
Maud and Everett Lewis, outside their one room house, Nova Scotia 1963.
Her life was made into a movie in 2016, "Maudie", starring Sally Hawkins and Ethan Hawke. The first article I found about Maudie was on Artsy, The Joyous World of Overlooked Canadian Folk Artist Maud Lewis. The description of her provided proof of, as well as a kindred spirit.
Maudie was resilient as an artist, despite hardships.
She was diagnosed with juvenile arthritis at a young age and this left her in pain and "crooked", mainly stuck indoors. Her parents died, her aunt took her in, she married; none of this made a difference to the foundations of her existence. In general, it added more trouble.
Life inside her head was a must because there was so little possibility outside of it. But that didn't stop her from living. She chose to be as capable as she was able to be, she was tenacious despite the seeming impossibility of her chances for joy and satisfaction.
Claire Stenning, one of her early supporters, describes her painting as having a "childlike, tremendous feeling." "Everything is happy and gay and quick and lively."
Cow in Springtime
"She was able to earn a very small living from it, but that's not really what it's about. It's the perfect example of how a brush, a surface and paint can actually create life. She's an inspiration. She shouldn't have been happy, but in her paintings, my goodness, they are happiness." - Ian Dejardin, art historian and the executive director of the McMichael Canadian Art Collection.
Not at all like her body, or her one room home, shared with a curmudgeonly husband.
Even though her arthritis worsened as she aged, further crippling her body and hands, she continued to paint - much like Renoir (please see Impairment and disability: Renoir's adaptive coping strategies against rheumatoid arthritis and Painting and sculpturing with “broken” hands: the victory of Renoir).
The joyousness remained while the body deteriorated. Her happy scenes and positive outlook continued with her, a product of herself, until she died.
The Art Gallery of Nova Scotia has her house on display, as well as other works. Shannon Parker, Curator of Collections, shares that "Visitors are so impressed … she produced such amazing, cheerful artwork" in what "could have otherwise been very depressing" conditions.
Sidenote: I just missed the Exhibition at the Art Gallery of Hamilton, but hopefully I’ll be able to enjoy some of her paintings, in person, soon. Membership to the Blue Mountain Foundation for the Arts provides reciprocal admission to galleries and museums across Ontario, including the Art Gallery of Hamilton and McMichael Canadian Art Collection.
It makes me think of The Electric Life of Luis Wain with Benedict Cumberbatch. Choice of sight makes all the difference. And cats.
Louis Wain, pictures of cats and their changes with diesease progression
from, Art in the Cascade of Brain Areas
if interested see also, A Math Theory for Why People Hallucinate (“stochastic Turing mechanism” reason behind why we “see” what we see)
Whether you are physically, mentally or emotionally "well", whether you have been "well"-educated, whether your family or connections are "well"-off means not a jot if you choose to see beautifully.
Perhaps this is why "well" people sometimes see no need to strive? Why they bristle at: ‘why can’t you?”
But what a state of being to miss out on.
Educate yourself in beauty and the education can only deepen and improve your appreciation and joy. As Frank Wilczek writes so wonderfully - why else is math the way it is, our inner ear snail, musical chords and platonic solids?
Exit the cave my friends. Come into the sunlight and see, not shadows on the wall, but your true capacity for sight.
It may look like steak, it may taste like steak, but …
