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21
Jun

We Covet Old Crockery…

   Posted by: Barb Hartsook   in Classes, Digital, Drawings, Just Thoughts..., Paintings, What Difference Does It Make?

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An old crockery pot lay against a crooked stone wall. Dusty and hot in the sun. Chipped just a tiny piece in the back. I nudged it with my toe, and while I knocked loose part of the stone behind it, nothing crawled out, so I considered it safe to pick up. I blew off some of the dust, wiped a bit of the grime away, and thought I might have found a treasure. How old? Who was to say, and what difference did it make? What I saw was beautiful… and I had a use for it. It was brand new to me.

Age really isn’t an issue — even ours. All we know for sure is how many years we’ve had, but we don’t even know how old we are until we know how long we have yet. We’re standing at the beginning of the rest of our lives. What will we do with it? Time and duties and circumstances have left their dust on us. How will we blow it away and polish up our own usefulness?

In an earlier post, Childhood Dreams Fulfilled?, several people left comments regarding the lateness of the hour as they began pursuing some of those early dreams that had been blocked by circumstance until now. Yet all of them are moving on… pursuing what was buried either because of duty or because someone unwittingly had trounced on those dreams.

Sliloh and Dee are both talented artists and writers. Their blogs are not just delightful, I learn something whenever I visit either one of them. Both have overcome circumstances that might cripple some — but they tend to their respective passions… and life is good.

Wendy wrote: I am another late starter. I wasn’t allowed to go to university, so after being edged out of my computing career due to my age, I went to a TAFE college for 3 years and then to university and finally got my BFA last year. I am very lucky, because I now have a nice life teaching painting, book art, and working on the website & advertising stuff for an acrylic paint company. So it is never too late.

I think Wendy is “lucky” because she has pursued her dreams. I agree completely — It’s never too late.

Susie wrote: I so relate to this Barb. I was informed that all the art I loved, writing, sculpting, painting, musical instruments would never get me anywhere in life, so opted for the “real” world. I’ve raised my family and now disability has actually allowed me to come back to my passions…oh life is grand!

Viki wrote: I think our childhood dreams never really die, but are always lingering in the back of our minds, patiently waiting to emerge… My artistic ability is what made me shine during my childhood, but I was told time and again that I couldn’t make a living with art. So I pursued something more practical - accounting. Sure, I was good at (it) and (it) brought in decent income, but it wasn’t fulfilling. I was eventually attracted to the web design business and now writing, both of which bring out the creative in me and indwell me with a sense of fulfillment and peace.

I love stories like these. There are several others as well, all the comments heartfelt. I’m grateful to you all for sharing something so personal in such a way that each of us knows we are not alone.

05pot-signed-textured
An old pot sits in the sun against the stone, waiting to be useful. Take it, plant it, and nurture your treasured dreams. Today is a beginning.

Come for coffee — and help yourself to the chocolate as well.

Barb :)

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This entry was posted on Saturday, June 21st, 2008 at 2:29 pm and is filed under Classes, Digital, Drawings, Just Thoughts..., Paintings, What Difference Does It Make?. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

24 comments so far

Ann Roberts
 1 

Barb, I decided today to look at your blog for the first time and what you said hit me right in the face. And I thank you for writing it and especially today. You are a very special lady.

June 21st, 2008 at 3:25 pm
Barb Hartsook
 2 

Thank you for telling me that, Ann. This theme is a passion of mine — all my girls and grandkids have heard it, and they see it in me. I’ve long had the motto “I want to live every day of my life.” Some people just look at me funny, but many people get that dawning look on their faces and nod. Yep, that’s a good plan, they say.

And sometimes we just need to boost each other with a bit of encouragement. Thanks for yours. :)

Barb

June 21st, 2008 at 3:46 pm
Wendy
 3 

Barb you are so right on the nose with your writing! You rock!

June 21st, 2008 at 6:44 pm
*~Nightshadow~*
 4 

Barb,

This is a beautifully written and inspiring entry. Your blog is becoming a favorite place to visit.

June 21st, 2008 at 8:02 pm
Barb Hartsook
 5 

Thank you so much Wendy and Nightshadow. :) :)

June 21st, 2008 at 8:23 pm
Nita Mata
 6 

Ah, yes….you are one special lady, indeed…..you always manage to say what we need so much to hear. Thank you!

June 21st, 2008 at 10:19 pm
David
 7 

Barb, what a wonderful story. Your points are so well taken. Just today I heard the sad news of a young man, only in his thirties, who was killed in a car accident last night. I knew him and the rest of his family since he was a young boy. We never know how much time we have left. How much different the world would be if we all lived our lives as if this were the last day we had!

June 21st, 2008 at 11:02 pm
bev langby
 8 

Hi Barb saw you faux pas in an email from PT lol so thought id pop in for a cuppa i need it ,ive been really flat out learning photoshop and by golly its finally sinking in even layers lol Havent been active on the forum but have been popping in and out like u i have lots on the go and loving it ……….
Love this entry and love teapots told my brother i want a Vera Wang design he does some work with Waterford/Wedgewood on occasions when the Opera/ Ballet seasons are slow , a man of many hats my bro…..but getting back to your entry, isnt it great to rescue old things and give them new life and wonder about the stories they could tell lol
oh well have rambled enough and have finished my cuppa so cheers for now gurlfren
and u are doing great and inspiring us all

hugs Bev

June 21st, 2008 at 11:51 pm
bev langby
 9 

Barb i just popped back u reminded me that i had started a blog on Blogger some time ago so i might just get it going again when time permits lol see what u think mind u its an oldie lol for the time being i will start a blog roll on it and take it from there , a lots happened since then
hugbev
http://bevs-big-brush.blogspot.com/

June 22nd, 2008 at 2:05 am
Bunny
 10 

I missed these posts. I’ve bookmarked your page so I won’t anymore. :) I’m glad you got to use the liquid pencils. I love “playing” with new stuff! The results were fantastic, BTW and I missed that post of your work on Wet Canvas. Speaking of old pots….. hmmmm…… I got a late start. College for me was nursing school when I did go on my own…..which was when my 4 daughters started school…and was in SPITE of my now ex husband, not with his help. I knew I wouldn’t be able to support myself and 4 children with artwork. But it always remained a love which I indulged as often as I was able. Now that I’m retired I can spend my time on this, and I’m loving it. You reminded me of a photo that I took while on Block Island, and it’s an old pot against a rock wall….. I think it would make a nice painting! :)

June 22nd, 2008 at 9:15 am
Sliloh
 11 

I wish I was more articulate so I could tell you how much your posts touch me. You have a wonderful gift in the way you express yourself and when I feel hopeless your words give hope ;) I love your pot but when you were describing that I was feeling like I am that old pot. I just need someone to discover me and shine me up. Okay, that’s my job and I am so on it! ;)
Bless you Barb for being you.
Anita

June 22nd, 2008 at 10:57 am
Annette Graves
 12 

Hi there,
This is wonderful. so proud of you and love the look of it. Love reading all your wonderful words and keeping up with you. You do inspire me so, don’t know if you know it or not.
Hugs to you
Annette

June 22nd, 2008 at 1:22 pm
Annette Graves
 13 

Hi forgot to add my web page like you requested. sorry.

http://www.artimagesbyannette.com

June 22nd, 2008 at 1:23 pm
Viki Nygaard
 14 

One of my favorite things is a armoire that was my grandma’s. It probably looks like an old piece of furniture to most people, but to me, it’s a treasure.

But I thought of Tim Russert when reading your post. He died too young, but from what I hear he lived every moment of his life with zest and passion, full of optimism and love for his family. Now that’s how I want to live. ;)

June 22nd, 2008 at 8:36 pm
Dee
 15 

Taking a break, sipping a nice coup of green tea as I visit a few favorite spots on the internet. not enough time for visiting these days.

Is it not amazing how at times we run across something someone has lost, or thrown out. My home is filled with things that others no longer wanted…the best finds of course have been my dogs ;-)
Treasures can come in all sizes, shapes and forms…how lucky are those of us that have actually run across such spectacular finds.
Thanks for the lovely post!

June 25th, 2008 at 12:23 pm
Barney Davey
 16 

What a great blog and post! Your art is inspiring too. I wrote my first, (only so far) book in my late 50s. I have outlines for two more and plans for some other related projects. I’m finding this time in my life to be more exciting and rewarding than I could have imagined. Another project percolating is a second blog titled, Surviving the 60s…again. :)

June 30th, 2008 at 12:00 pm
Sandy
 17 

Hi Barb. I really like the new theme. You are always such an insightful and inspirational person. I’m so glad that I’ve had the chance to see / hear what you’ve been up to. BTW - the pic of the pot is outstanding. Hugs to you and Nita.

July 1st, 2008 at 6:04 pm
Helen Percy Lystra
 18 

Beautifully written and just what I need at this time in my life…. Thank you

July 4th, 2008 at 9:25 am
Chris Price
 19 

Hi Barb — I’ve been meaning to stop by and tell you how much I’ve enjoyed your blog so far! It is gorgeous and very well done. I’m enjoying your stories and will keep checking back!

July 12th, 2008 at 11:27 am
Sandy Reiber
 20 

Barb, You are amazing! As always I am in awe of your talents. I love the old pot and the stone wall. You always see the potential in all that’s around us, people and things. What a gift you are…definately a chip off the old “Tiger”. Thanks for sharing with Austin and me. He thinks you are awesome! (As do I) Love, Sandy Reiber

July 21st, 2008 at 10:10 pm
Patricia Overell
 21 

I’m a little late with this comment, but I’m loving your blog. It really speaks to me, so I thought I’d share my thoughts with you, starting with my childhood dream. I always wanted to be a racecar driver. Yep, that’s right, a racecar driver. My Dad never laughed at me, but he did make sure I knew how to drive WELL. But race cars . . .

Not too long after I was married, we bought a little convertible. I loved that little car, but had to give it up shortly after our first was born, it just wasn’t practical. So I became the Mom with the station wagon . . . but I never forgot my race car dreams. I had brochures from the Skip Barber school laying around for years.

For my 50th birthday/30th Anniversary, my darling hubby bought me a little red convertible! Then things just happened: I met someone at a Porsche club event that told me about track weekends, and helped me sign up for one. I was driving on a race track! I signed up for school at Skip Barber at Laguna Seca, and learned to drive an open wheel race car. I traveled to tracks across the country, and got to attend schools, like at Watkins Glen. I made many, many friends, and finally, bought a dedicated race car and signed up for my first real race. Heady stuff, in my 50s

Then the dream ended abruptly, the night before my last tune-up weekend, with a collision with a big pickup truck without headlights on a dark hiway in the rain. My race car was gone, and I was damaged. My race career ended before it really started, but I’ll forever have those wonderful memories. Since then, I’ve learned that there are plenty of other dreams out there, just waiting for me . . . disability or no . . . travel, photography, art . . . life is full, life is good.

I have learned that you never know what tomorrow holds, so don’t put off your dreams any longer. Don’t walk by that broken pot - it may be a treasure you’ll never see again! The start of a new dream . . . and the new dreams can be even better than the old ones.

Patricia

July 29th, 2008 at 9:49 pm
Barb Hartsook
 22 

Hi Patricia. Your story gave me chills as I finished reading it… thank you so much for sharing it here. I’m so sorry for your accident, but your state of mind is incredibly uplifting. There IS always another path to take, if we don’t sit down and rest against the rock of our circumstances. I enjoyed looking in your galleries at PBase (by clicking on your name) and can see the directions you are going with your photography and art.

I agree that dreams can get better — I think they build on each other. Your life was enriched with the racing, and that’s what you take into the next pursuit.

Thanks for coming by… :)

July 30th, 2008 at 9:00 am
Valerie BEEBY
 23 

I was particularly taken by Patricia’s story - and her words: “Don’t walk by that broken pot - it may be a treasure you’ll never see again!”
Love your inspiring site Barb. Late starter myself. How often we are told “You can’t make a living with art”. I say you may not be able to make a living, but you can make a life!

I particularly like the design of your page with the singed edges! Your friend Valerie

September 6th, 2008 at 5:28 am
Sherry
 24 

So beautifully written. Even though this was written a while back, it is the inspiration I needed today. Thank you. Maybe Average Joe will be around a little longer.

September 6th, 2008 at 9:04 pm

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  1. Over Coffee… Let’s Talk » Blog Archive » When is the Art Done?    Jun 04 2009 / 1pm:

    [...] a reason the old crockery pot sits alone in the sun against a stone wall. Someone put it there… someone else may pick it up and use it in ways [...]

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