How can I NOT paint?

I asked myself recently: if I had one month to live, what would I regret not doing? Well, I might regret not traveling more. Certainly, there are many places that I would love to see and many places that I haven't been. But travel is limited by funds and I know that funds are not endless. I'm lucky to have been to as many places as I have been.
Would I regret things that I've said or haven't said? Not really. I've worked hard on my relationships, made amends and realize that some of them may improve, some of them may never get any better and will never live up to my ideals.
The thing that I would regret the most is not painting more. I majored in painting in college (SUNY Binghamton, BFA, 1993) and have never again had such a way to explore, think and intuitively understand things about the world that I could not get to in any other way. Different from prayer, meditation, reading, discussion, thinking, exercise and work. I have become very practical: I have 2 Etsy shops and am working to pay off my library school student loans with them. I'm also a mom, with lots of responsibilities that I take seriously. I'm a deacon at our church and have coffee to prepare and picnics to plan. But, how can I neglect painting? I think it's time to begin again...

I am enjoying a wonderful book called The Forest Lover by Susan Vreeland. It's about a Canadian woman in the early 20th c. who is a painter. She has Native Canadian friends and paints Native Canadian themes, which alienates her from her Victorian sisters and most of the people who show up to and critique her art shows. She isn't rewarded for her work until fairly late in life and by that time she has almost given up hope that anyone will respond to her work.
I respond to this book in a very personal way. I love painting, drawing and photography. I also share the protagonist's deep love of the forest and being in the woods (but don't envy her the mosquito bites that she gets in the far north). It's reminding me that no matter how practical I try to be, the deep desire to create will still be there and will keep asking me to answer that call.

Angelo Ippolito

I found a Facebook group today called "In memory of Angelo Ippolito" and I had to join. Angelo Ippolito was my adviser at Binghamton University in the early 90's when I was an art student. He was an abstract expressionist, made wonderful assemblage sculptures which he called "jaw-jooz" that were fun and witty. He helped me to laugh about art and to take it seriously. He was an elegant gentleman who was always impeccably dressed.

The most important thing that Angelo taught me was to always play. That art making was about play. The way a jazz musician needs to keep improvising and finding the next note, the way a child needs to make up a game as she goes along. If you stopped playing, you would just steal the life from the art work and just end up with a dull piece. That can't happen without taking risks. He told me that if you had a painting that came easily, that is because the 20 before it were difficult. You payed for it, you had already paved the way. Angelo was one of the first people who ever took me or what I had to offer the world seriously, and I loved him dearly for it.