A Hug for Art (14)

June 28th
I got paid for my art!!
I also got a hug.
Yesterday, I carefully wrapped Princess the painting in brown paper and slipped the entire package into a plastic garbage bag in case of rain. (I have to figure out a more professional art presentation. The brown paper is appropriate, the garbage bag, not so much.) Norman and I headed down my very familiar route to Ranney School to deliver my work of art. The school seemed eerily empty and I saw no sign of any teachers or the principal. Even the front door was unlocked and I did not have to use a card to swipe in. A school is a strange place without the kids. Sue, the receptionist, gave us a lovely greeting and she radioed Anthony to come by and get his package. Anthony walked in just as I revealed the painting to Sue. It was propped up on the bench in the lobby. His entire body reacted to the painting. His feet froze in the doorway, his shoulders slumped down in sadness at the sight of the dog, and his eyes teared up. I was quite taken by his reaction; it was the best compliment I could have been given. I captured Princess just as he remembered her.

All emotional, I was ready to say goodbye to Anthony and simply give him Princess as a gift. When asked what he owed me for the painting, I choked up and was obviously not practiced enough in my new "its all about business" attitude. I told him that I should at least get paid for the frame which came to $50, and quickly added (with unexplained guilt) that I would really like $100, but it would be fine if he pays me what he can. I will never get anywhere with that line! And guilt? For what? My art is worth way more than that. He whipped out two fifty dollar bills from his wallet and gave them to me without question and with a smile. I glanced at the money mostly in surprise that he was walking around with that kind of money. Then, he gave me a hug. Every painting I do should come with a hug.

We followed our profitable trip to Ranney School with a short drive to Red Bank to see the Mr. Roger's documentary. I loved Fred Rogers. Our kids watched his PBS show and I had cried at the announcement of his passing in the news. I truly wanted to see a documentary about this beloved man but I was not prepared for the impact it would have on me personally. I was a teacher for the last 15 years. I watched him interact with the children in the film and tried to remember if I always looked into the eyes of every student and made them feel special. Did I work hard enough to earn their respect? As an artist, sure. As an adult in the room, I tried to always be kind and supportive. As a teacher, now I wonder how many I really reached. This documentary should be a required summer movie treat for all educators. I wish I could turn back the clock at least a couple of years, and head back into school with lots of energy, inspired by the words and actions of Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood.