Thru the Eyes of A Child
In the inspirational book, In A Pit With A Lion On A Snowy Day, written by Mark Batterson, he sets out on his own journey of inspiring his reader to chase their dreams and pursue opportunities in life. He asserts at least in part what often times hinders us from this pursuit is our fear of failure; our fear of looking foolish. "For more than thirty years, Gordon Mackenzie worked at Hallmark, eventually convincing the company to create a special title for him: 'creative paradox.'" Batterson continues, "Along with challenging corporate normalcy at Hallmark, MacKenzie did a lot of creativity workshops for elementary schools. And those workshops led to a fascinating observation that he shares in his book, Orbiting the Giant Hairball. MacKenzie would ask the kids upfront: 'How many artists are there in the room?' And he said the pattern of responses never varied."
"In the first grade, the entire class waved their arms like maniacs. Every child was an artist. In the second grade, about half the kids raised their hands. In the third grade, he'd get about ten out of thirty kids. And by the time he got to sixth grade, only one or two kids would tentatively and self-consciously raise their hands. MacKenzie came to this conclusion: My guess is that there was a time-perhaps when you were very young-when you had at least a fleeting notion of your own genius and were just waiting for some authority figure to come along and validate it for you."
According to Ellen McCann in her article The Better Half, referenced in my last post, Nona started painting when she was just a little girl. She must have had the "fleeting notion" that she was a talented little girl, but she also must have been encouraged. It would have been just around the turn of the century then and based on my limited knowledge, I don't think that little girls were normally encouraged to pursue a dream, much less a dream of being an artist. Perhaps her mother instilled in her a passion for art and culture. Or perhaps, her inspiration and courage came from a teacher. Whoever inspired her, she was given the validation she needed to pursue her dreams.
As a child, Nona's view of the world around her must have propelled her and her determination to create...
"She laid in the garden on her back starring up into the bright blue sky marveling at the contrast between the sky and the white pillow like clouds. The birds swooped and twirled thru the air as the wind danced on their wings. In her mind, the wind was brightly colored rays of iridescent light that streams behind the dancers on the wind. The world was a wonder of color and the beauty of God’s creation reflected these colors in pure majesty. Nona was just a little girl, but she saw the world differently than most girls her age. Her mind instantly translated real life into an orchestra of color and movement of color. Spring was coming and the snow was just beginning to melt from the tops of the nearby mountains. The grass was sprouting up in different shades of brilliant green providing the perfect back drop to the spring flowers bursting thru the ground in an array of color. Her parents ran a boarding house, the first of it’s kind, in the town where she lived. It was 1897, and travelers of all types would break their journey’s here at her home. Her mother was meticulous in every detail and would oversee the guests and their every need during their stay. The grounds around her home were comprised of well manicured gardens normally enjoyed by the guests. But for Nona, it was where her dreams of life in translation would unfold in her mind’s eye."