I’ve painted many pictures for a lot of people in my life. I’ve painted a lot of pictures for various people I’ve never met, and as much againÂ for the people who are special to me, past and present; its myÂ gift to them. Â I adorn my walls with art that cheers me, and put a lot of thought and work into doing the same for others,Â whether I know them personally or not, because I know how important the message is in the artwork they want on their walls.
Of recent times I’ve been slightly out of sorts with someone I shouldn’t have been.Â There were a number of small issues that built up on my side that have caused me to hesitate in ringing her to tell her how I felt. And in turn those small issues have built up one on the other, in a topsyturvy sort of way, the building blocks ofÂ Â slights perceived, making a small tower block of snubs perceived. And I knew I had to deal with them. TheyÂ couldn’t be ignored, they wouldn’t let me!
Tonight, I thought I would try and knock some ofÂ it down, this tower block, by making the first move of ringing her. She didn’t need to know about my snubs perceived, and maybe I could clear the air on my side by hearing her voice, and feeling that connection again. That strong binding connection of friendship, and of love,Â and respect, and admiration between us.
I rang. We talked of the usual stuff, family, work, social visits elsewhere.Â But just as we were near the end of the superficial conversation that didn’t scratch the surface of anything in particular, she mentioned something that indicated to me that she had issues too, with me. Her own matching tower block of perceived slights, and hurts. I wondered if it was enough to end our friendship. And knew it wasn’t from my side. I value what I have with her too much. But was she angry with me, too angry to want to continue our friendship? I had to find out, whatever the cost.
But I also know that I have been as much at fault as she has at not communicating my thoughts, my aims, my reasons for not wanting to hurt her. And the not communicating actually caused more pain than if I had stated the problem outloud in all its raw brutal honesty. I hadn’t said anything as I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. Whereas the silence of altruism actually caused more pain within her.
But, after we spoke at length tonight, and we both aired our grievances to the other, in quiet measured tones, and as the other listened, and spoke their full thoughts, we both fully understood the measure of empathy between us. We both saw the other side, the clear blue skies of the other side, not that it was overbearingÂ storm clouds before, just a grey nothingness of overhanging cloud drooping down between us, and both wanting the other to lift the cloud, and make the first rays of contact, but both wishing the other would do it first.
After a long hour or so on the phone, when we both knew we had reestablished the deep friendship, she told meÂ that she knew days ago that it would be alright, because of the painting onÂ her wall. The oneÂ that I had painted for her some months ago. She looked at it daily, and knew that we had a strong bond, because I had put so much love, and attention to detail in it, so much care,Â for I wanted itÂ to please her. And I know it does, and she knew that we’d be alright because of it.Â
Â Because art comes from the heart, to the heart. And she could read that in it.
So, we are true blueÂ friends again, as we were. And the art is part of that bond, and states it,Â Â as clear asÂ day to her, and to me.