The story of The Nest.

And how it challenged my mindset.

I love the process of painting. I never did it for anything rather than joy, fascination, love, story, feeling alive, feeling the light, dreaming, and feeling that I am doing “my thing”. It is my thing. Or rather -one of my things.

And I never thought about selling them. Why? I do not know. Just never thought about it, like it would be a crime to even think about it. As I am reflecting on this, it’s more like, I didn’t want my art to be burdened by the need of paying for itself, being “on duty”. I myself wanted to support it, not the other way around. I didn’t want it to support me. I was the Protective Mom. It was my innocent child.

A few times in the past various friends suggested that they were interested in buying a certain painting. I always stumbled. Never knew what to answer. Some kind of internal block. It was easier to move on and forget about this confusing thing — selling my art.

Recently a friend came over for a visit and she mentioned, “I love your art, there are a few paintings that I would especially love to have in my house, I am interested to buy.” As usual, I froze. I had no idea what to say, something inside made me numb, and unable to think. I managed to say “ Thank you very much. Let me think.”

It took an entire month for me to unfreeze and think. And then I texted my friend that miraculously I realized — I would LOVE that my art will fly away to its new life, to its new home, and will bring the joy, the love, the light to other people. I suddenly felt it’s not just ok, it’s wonderful to send my art off. I felt joy, I felt accomplishment, I felt honored, mostly I felt humble.

My friend texted back. She picked one particular painting with the nest. She said that every time in the past she visited our home, she admired it. The last time when she came with her husband, she said she showed it to him first thing.

My heart sings. So wonderful that The Nest found a new home to fill with warmth and happiness, to bring a small miracle. Art is not a functional thing. There is no practical usefulness from it. Yet, there is joy, there is lightness, there is timelessness in creating your unique surroundings and feeling of your personal space, that is powerful and meaningful for you.

Thank you so much Lyalechka, I found a source of a new appreciation from giving my art and a piece of my spirit to other people, to other homes, to other life. After this revelation, I became less fearful of the “s” word and even typed “available for sale” on my FB post for the first time ever. And another painting found a wonderful new home. Thank you Maureen and George.

This month several of my paintings found their new homes. I am such a proud Mama, I cannot express all the happiness and humbleness in my heart. Yet I feel no pressure to sell, it does not need to happen, it just may happen. I can keep my usual focus on playing with colors and ideas and powerful stories, and finding joy when I use paint to express it. It mostly feels like freedom. When I paint and I get into the groove, all of a sudden I find myself moving and kind of dancing. I let my hands pick and mix the colors, and I become some sort of an observer of what my body is doing to create the new story on a canvas, a very precious feeling. That is a mysterious journey. I feel at home. I feel at peace. Priceless experience.