Some of you may know that President George W. Bush has taken up painting in his retirement. Most recently he has been painting portraits and collecting the stories of immigrants; he has a new book out titled OUT OF MANY ONE. We saw some of his paintings along with an interview on a recent 60 Minutes. He mentioned an essay by Sir Winston Churchill that inspired him to paint; I found a copy of that essay through our public library.
The essay, originally published in 1932 as a chapter in Churchill’s book AMID THESE STORMS, is titled Painting as Pastime and is well worth the search for it and the reading.
Churchill begins his essay with this:
Many remedies are suggested for the avoidance of worry and mental overstrain by persons who, over prolonged periods, have to bear exceptional responsibilities and discharge duties upon a very large scale Some advise exercise, and others, repose. Some counsel travel, and others, retreat. Some praise solitude, and others, gaiety.
He goes on to say that the important element is that of change. Churchill emphasizes that one cannot just “switch off the lights” but one must illuminate a new field of interest.
The essay made me reflect on the time before I was retired. Whether I was working in a museum or in a church, I met all the qualifications of being a workaholic. The truth is, I loved to work and I loved the work I did. But it also took a toll and I could never seem to really change, no matter how many retreats I made or how many resolutions I made to make changes. Everything became just another item on my “to do” list; I never discovered an activity (or non-activity) that offered a change from my day to day work habits. The workaholic mantle and its accompanying stress stayed wrapped tightly around me.
Churchill writes:
…human beings may be divided into three classes: those who are toiled to death, those who are worried to death and those who are bored to death.
I have been all three, though the “bored to death” did not arrive until I retired. The boredom was absolutely terrifying for someone who had lived her life as a workaholic. Those first few months I would say to Tom, “I have no purpose. All I do is go to the grocery store.” It was a difficult transition. I thought I would spend my retirement days writing as I have always loved to write—even as a young child. But I could not write. I would sit at the computer and stare. No words would come. I had a partially finished book that I thought I would dive right into, but I didn’t even wade into the shallow end. I just wasn’t interested in finishing a book on meditations for the season of Epiphany.
Churchill would understand what I am talking about and how I needed something to help me in an unexpectedly trying time for me. His essay continues:
Painting came to my rescue in a most trying time…Painting is a companion with whom one may hope to walk a great part of one’s life journey, ‘Age cannot wither her nor custom stale, Her infinite variety.’
I needed to be rescued. But I quickly discovered that the transition from workaholic to one who is relaxed and enjoys the diversity of activities that can fill one’s days cannot be managed or scheduled.
For me it took the pandemic. It took mandatory quarantine and removing all the obstacles and demands and the expectations and just sitting in the silence, the quiet, the ‘peace that passes all understanding.’
It was a long winter. A long year.
Then I decided that I did not want to write a book. I did not want to have to produce a finished project. What I wanted was to write for the joy of writing. I started sending a letter (typed, printed and placed in an envelope and mailed) to twenty people I identified as those who would come to my rescue if I ever needed them. About once a month, I wrote a short reflection. There was no theme. I wrote about butter. About dictionaries. About factory tours. I let my mind and heart wander. It was lovely.
Then I decided that I wanted to start a blog to make it easier to write more often. I had a blog years ago, but it was primarily a way to share my sermons. For some reason I got locked out of that blog and had long ago bid my adieu to that site. Plus, I wasn’t going to be writing sermons.
So, thanks to the Substack platform, I am able to continue these random reflections, but now they are sent out digitally and open to anyone who wants to subscribe which has a 100% free option; you probably know all this if you are reading these words.
So the blog helped.
But the deep desire for visual expression kept nudging me. Then I had the opportunity to take a class in pastels (which I had never worked with and knew nothing about) and it opened a new door of change for me.
Happy are the painters, for they shall not be lonely. Light and color, peace and hope, will keep them company to the end, or almost to the end, of the day.
Like Churchill I do not acclaim myself as a great artist. I love the process of painting. I love the colors and the joy and the different ways it fills my being.
I took that 2-day pastels class and now I am taking a 6-week watercolor class. Again, I am following Churchill’s lead: Just to paint is great fun.
I like the structure of a class and I appreciate teachers who can translate their wealth of experience and knowledge to help even a beginner. Some people have the discipline to dive in and learn on their own, but I like someone who tells me which is the best brush to use and how important it is to find your sight line when you do a landscape and shares their favorite paints and materials and is willing to answer your many, many questions. Most importantly, good teachers share their joy.
I am blessed to live in a retirement community that offers these classes (usually for free) and I can just make the short walk to the art studio for the classes. Life is good.
Maybe painting is not the change you seek or need. But I also say, don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.
What is it that is missing in your everyday? Maybe nothing is missing and that is great. I just find that painting has greatly improved my happiness factor and if nothing else, as my friend Sir Winston says,
The colors are lovely to look at…
It has been wonderful to watch this transformation happen in front of my eyes. Thanks for putting it into words.
What a joyful post! Thank you! We also saw the interviews with George Bush, and I think for him painting is healing.