Grandma Moses
Plow Boy (1950)
Grandma Moses
“Life is what we make it, always has been, always will be.”
– Grandma Moses
As a child, my extended family shared a small home in the mountains of North Carolina. A long drive completely canopied by hemlocks led up to the house which we had named Treetops, and my father loved to dare my sister and me to walk it at night with no lights. It was equally terrifying and exhilarating, and I felt quite brave and grown up whenever I made it all the way home.
Within the house and on the wall hung the very first painting I ever fell in love with— a small, bucolic scene that a distant relative had picked up decades before. I like to think that perhaps it was purchased for $3-5, for that was the artist’s going rate in the early years of her career… the early years which began when she was 78. Long before I knew anything about art, I knew that there was something special about that intimate, seemingly simple painting.
Though time has passed, the house has sold, and unfortunately so has the painting, Grandma Moses’ art still holds a special place in my heart. And, while she was not my personal grandmother (as more than a few friends asked over the years), her painting is etched in my mind as a vision of togetherness and joy— connected to many of my favorite memories from my childhood.
During the holidays, I began revisiting Grandma Moses' art and her story. At one point, my husband, a seventh-generation farmer, looked over my shoulder and noted, “Wow, that’s nice… She sure makes farming look easy.” Not knowing her story, perhaps he wondered if she lacked understanding of just how difficult working the land can be.
But, Grandma Moses was no stranger to hard work or struggle. Born Anna Mary Robertson, she left home at twelve to work as a housekeeper. Once married, she transitioned to working the land and building a family. Having lost five of her ten children in infancy, I have a feeling that Grandma Moses knew all too well the complexities and challenges of life.
Yet, there is a positivity and nostalgia to her artwork that is undeniable. Tractors, telephone poles, proof of industrialization are all missing. So too are any suggestions of struggle from many of her paintings. All seems well in the worlds she created with her brush.
I have this visual, though I realize it is made up, of me as a child looking at the painting on our walls and wondering where the splash of family dysfunction was within the canvas. Where was the kind but unstable relative, the sweet potato casserole which had accidentally been flipped over onto the floor five minutes before dinner, the older sister who seemed impossible to win over?
In the two decades that Grandma Moses actively focused on her painting, creating over 1,500 pieces, she did not paint reality. Instead she painted the dream. And while some may wish to call that naive, I believe it rather sophisticated. Grandma Moses seemed to grasp quite well that sometimes we need the fantasy, even if just on the wall, before we can fully face what is before us. For, at times, the illusion is the best jumping-off point.
So, as I welcome in the New Year… I am choosing to take a page from Grandma Moses and acknowledge the fantasy of how I wish this year would look.
Sugaring Off (1943)
Grandma Moses
The Rainbow (1961)
Grandma Moses
2020 in all its grandness:
I will become a famous writer—constantly inspired and clever.
I will enjoy a year filled with exotic travel, exquisite art and great adventures, balanced perfectly with solitude and stillness.
I will magically acquire a remote control to “handle life”: All my ducks in a row—PLAY… Overwhelmed or claustrophobic— STOP… Mistake— REWIND… Bored or uncomfortable— FAST FORWARD.
I will enjoy wonderfully fulfilling connectedness in my relationships while always remaining autonomous, with not a trace of codependence.
I will lose interest in food, eating only what is necessary to be healthy, while fitting easily into perhaps unhealthily small pants.
Oh, and I will be organized, cool, calm, mysterious, and physically coordinated at all times. Anxiety… What anxiety?… In 2020, I will effortlessly have it all together.
Yes, this is how my Grandma Moses’ painting of 2020 would look if my ideal being was created as a country scene. And, while I’m dreaming, perhaps I can have blue eyes like my mother and sister.
It feels a bit embarrassing to actually write these down, and the list looks rather silly once it has seen the light of day. Yet, if I had not taken the time to do so, I most likely would have spent a lot of time disappointed, unaware of the fantasy I was carrying around.
A Beautiful World (1948)
Grandma Moses
While Grandma Moses’ paintings remained light and hopeful, Grandmas Moses believed that “life is what we make it, always has been, always will be.” She often painted her fantasies—and then went about making the best of her reality.
So it is with that knowledge that I have a more realistic look at my 2020 list:
I will become a famous writer— constantly inspired and exceptionally clever.
I will commit to showing up for the page, especially when I don’t want to, and even if inspiration appears to have taken the day off. I will remember that creating is life-giving and healing and that self-worth is inherent and does not need to be earned or measured. At the same time, I will celebrate that women can be both ambitious and balanced as I move in the direction of my dreams.
My year will be filled with exotic travel, exquisite art and great adventures balanced perfectly with solitude and stillness.
I will seek to remember that adventure and excitement can be found in all sorts of places, and stillness can be sought even in the craziest of moments. And, I will be mindful with my resources so that I am able to travel, because I really do love being #outarting ;)
I will magically acquire a remote control to “handle life”: All my ducks in a row— PLAY… Overwhelmed or claustrophobic— STOP… Mistake— REWIND… Bored or uncomfortable— FAST FORWARD.
I will ask for what I need and remember that “uncomfortable” doesn’t always mean “unsafe”— sometimes it just means something in me needs to heal. I will rest when needed and explore when inspired, no matter where I am. Also, I will remind myself that some of my best lessons and greatest gifts have come from me “messing up.”
I will enjoy wonderfully fulfilling connectedness in my relationships while always remain autonomous with not a trace of codependence.
I will try to remind myself that I am capable of great love, especially when I am doing what I need to do to take care of myself versus getting lost in other people’s stories. Although it may not feel like it and can be horribly uncomfortable to accept, I don’t always know what is best for the ones I love. So, I will continue to try to lovingly detach, realizing that that is far different from throwing up my hands and putting up walls. Also, I will share my heart and my truth with the people I love, even when I think it will disappoint them. And, I will hold space for them when they courageously choose to do the same.
I will lose interest in food, eating only what is necessary to be healthy while fitting easily into perhaps unhealthily small pants.
I will continue my journey to making peace with my body and trusting myself. No longer will I sneak my pleasures. Instead, I will pull up a chair, bring out my favorite bowl, and take a deep breath before enjoying something delicious that I once deemed as “bad.” Furthermore, I will be curious about what I am trying to fill, slowly loosen my grasp on things that feel empty yet familiar, and do more of what feeds my soul… Writing, art and connection being at the top of the list.
Oh, and I will be organized, cool, calm, mysterious, and physically coordinated at all times. Anxiety… what anxiety?… In 2020 I will effortlessly have it all together.
I will attempt to show up for life with love and humor and a whole lot of grace for myself and others. I will remind myself once more that perfect is boring, that I am who I am, and that that is enough.
And, I will breathe and start anew whenever necessary, especially when I forget everything listed above.
What are your dreams for 2020? How would you have Grandma Moses paint it? And, after acknowledging these hopes and fantasies, how can you show up more fully for this precious and real New Year?