I am Artistically Disfunctional

I am not very savy when it comes to art or music. I do not really care for classical music. I can sing along with almost any song out there but I could not tell you the title or the artist. It is the same with art. I can look at it and say *That's nice.*. But I don't *get it* like alot of people do. I do not know what I am that way but I am. In fact, Rachel and I try to go to different art exhibts that our local University has ever few months. We try to go at lunch and call it our *15 minutes of culture*.

About 4 years ago, I was teaching the DWI Repeat Offender class. In that class was a young man who was on his 3rd DWI. That is a felony in Texas. In the discussion at night in class, he tells us that he paints. At that time, he has been sober for about 3 years. He explained to the class that his art had even changed with his sobriety. They found that really hard to believe. The next class period, he brought in some of his *chemical art* as he called it. He told us that this was the art that he did when he was using drugs or alcohol. All of his paintings were very dark and bold, filled with shadows and fears. Most had some sort of a demonic or a blood theme. The canvases were filled with blacks and blood reds. He had also battled sever depression while he was using. The work was so talented but so morbid. The class was amazed with his talent but found the paintings disturbing. Then, he went out into the hall and brought in another painting. That is the painting that you see here on this entry. He explained to the group that the demons were now gone. They still called and whispered to him at times trying to drag him back in but that now he had learned to resist them. He had learned that the demons were actually how he felt about himself in those times that he was using. He said that he had learned to pay homage to the gods of hate, self-loathing and pity.

When I saw this painting...I cried. This painting stole my heart. I cannot explain it to you but I *get* this one. I knew when I saw it that I had to own it. After he successfully completed probation, I approached him about buying the painting. He was happy that it meant that much to me and allowed me to buy it from him. It is the best money that I ever spent. It hangs in my bed room where I can see it daily. I am in love with the colors and the design. I love the expressions on both the mother's and the baby's faces. I love how there are no straight harsh lines...just curves and swirls.

Maybe it is because I recognized the demons that he fought...demons that have whispered to me in my own life. Maybe it is because, in different ways, it reminds me of both of my children. Maybe it is because there is a little piece of my heart in that canvas.

What I do know about this painting is that it makes me feel rich.