Kane and I LOVED! watching "Joy of Painting". Every time it came on, we'd sit there, glued to the screen, mesmerized by his abilities, his gentle demeanor, and that 'fro!!! Screaming out for him to paint happy little trees in his world as if we were at a MotoGP track cheering on our favorite rider to pass in the straight away. Then high-fiving and hootin' and hollerin' loudly when he did so.
I first heard Bob Ross say the quote above when I was watching PBS while trying to escape life right after Kane died. 30 minutes was all I got, but any escape was welcome. I'd imagine living in the little log cabin he just painted, hundreds of miles away from the pain, torture, and sadness in my unhappy little world. Walking along the dirt path dusted with snow, taking in the chilly air, and plotting the best place in the clearing to build a snow man. Alas, it was just that, my imagination. Snap, back to reality. Even the beautiful landscape he had so effortlessly finished in a span of 30 minutes (including obsessive brush washing & drying) could not absorb the gut wrenching despair I was feeling. It would take a shit ton o' happy little trees to take that away, and I don't think there's a canvas in the world big enough to do that.
On my canvas of life, Lord knows I've had my share of "happy, little accidents". In fact, my canvas is littered with them. Randomness seemed the theme, but over time, they grew, multiplied, and I believe even started to develop language skills, and were most likely in deep conversations about taking over the world. No matter what I did, they kept coming. Even if I sat alone, refusing to go out, declining to see or talk to anyone, barricaded in the bedroom Kane and I had once shared, curtains & blinds closed tight, no way the outside world is getting in, one of those little fuckers would make their mark on my canvas much to my dismay.
Over the last 2+ years, I began really looking at my canvas of life. I noticed in the spots where the happy little accidents had not yet cultivated, there were happy little trees. A lot of them. Holy shit! An entire forest! The sound of a Ducati's dry clutch, the smell of race gas in the morning, witty one liners I've said, blond moments I've pulled, awesome friends, a wonderful husband I was happy to call my own who gave me the most amazing 6+ years of my life, things I'd seen, places I'd been, my beauty, my blessings, the love I still have left to give ... And I also realized the happy little accidents could easily be covered up with a little titanium white, making room for more happy little trees in my world!
I must remind myself of the following: Anything you do takes time to master (instant success is rare). You never really stop learning. Always look for ways to better yourself, add to your abilities, and fine tune your skills. Yes, attention, focus, and pure will power, as well as a little blood, sweat, and tears, are required; if not, it wouldn't be worth it. If you start something that you realize later wasn't for you, that's OK. It's merely a fork in the road of your snow dusted, dirt path. Stop, rest, and regroup before you decide which path to continue on. If you feel like giving up because you think you should be further along by now, look at how far you've come. You are a journey, not a destination.
I will now take my time, learn, and better myself to become the master painter of the canvas of my life. Magically adding a few more fan brush strokes, mixed with some Prussian Blue & Yellow Ochre to fill in the happy little accidents. It will become a masterpiece even Bob Ross would be proud of. Bring on the happy little trees!!!!!!!
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