I'm Sorry
I'm sorry. I'm very, very sorry.

Sometimes I get on a roll. The other day, I accidentally listed the wrong last name in a shout out in my newsletter. I should have typed Judy Wengrovitz, when I thanked the woman who founded The Springfield Art Guild 45 years ago. I spoke to the group in September, and Judy was in the front row with her husband. I was so honored. And then I goofed up and typed someone else's name in my public thank you.
That got me thinking about all the other things I've done on my art journey that I am sorry for.
Here are my confessions, listed from most recently to a very long time ago.

I'm sorry I missed visiting my friend Maria Hock doing her copy at The National Gallery of Art a few weeks ago.
I was super busy that week. I would have loved to visit with Maria who lives in North Carolina now.
BUT I did accomplish everything on my to do list that week.

I'm sorry I cut my hair so short.
My husband hated it.
My gallery owner hated it.
My kids made fun of it.
BUT you know what - I LOVED how easy it was to take care of, and how comfortable it felt in the hot Virginia summer that year.

I'm sorry that I agreed to do a series of illustrations for a company that promised to promote and endorse me, but never did.
The good thing was that my friend Tessa Edwards loved these images and loved NYC. I didn't know she was so sick at the time, but she passed of multiple myeloma shortly after purchasing a print of this image.
BUT, suddenly, not getting the endorsement paled compared to Tessa's thrill over receiving her print of New York City, a city she would never have the opportunity to visit.

I'm so sorry for thinking this quick illustration was a full blown painting, ready to enter into contests. I was confused for many years. No, scratch that - I was learning for many years.
I still am.
I actually hope to wake up 10 years from now and look at what I'm painting today with the thought that I can do much better.
That's what we all hope, right?
Maybe I'm not so sorry after all.
Maybe all of us who choose to be on the artist's journey should go a little easier on ourselves when we feel sorry.




















