Groundhog Day

Groundhog Day. The day my parents got married and the day they would have celebrated their 53rd wedding anniversary. I just read a friends blog about the meaning of Groundhog Day and the notion of do-overs. I loved the idea of exploring do-overs—especially on such a personally special day.

I wonder if my dad is deep in thought of all the things he would have done over with my mom now that she is gone. We've all had our "do-over" thoughts, whether the people who are apart of our new script are alive or not.

The good news is life is full of do-overs. It's just a matter of how willing we are to opening our hearts and minds to it.

I personally get a do-over every day. Each time I wield my brush and bring it to canvas I am given the gift of my intentions. Is this my truest expression or is the painting evolving the way I had hoped? Does the piece convey my deepest expression? If not, I simply give myself of a do-over. The rewards can be quiet fulfilling—even if I'm on my 100th take!

I'd like to think my parents celebrated each anniversary with the same approach—a do-over for all that may or may not have gone the way they had hoped from the year prior. I hope that's true anyway. Do-overs should be like little post-it notes we hand out when the situation merits it. "Oh, I'm so sorry I didn't mean to offend. Here take my do-over post-it." Now we both feel better.

Open Studios

Each year my building opens its doors to the public for our Annual Holiday Open Studios. It's an exciting time of year with a significant buzz in the air as people get their studios ready for the onslaught of people. Easels are put aside, brushes tucked under benches, tools put away and wood shavings swept up. I love this event. I love the vibe and energy. And I especially love meeting the numerous people who come through my studio. I've met some fascinating people over the years. I'm equally intrigued by their response to my work. Creating a dialogue between myself, my work and admirers (or not)—it's when a whole new meaning to what I do comes to life. I feel spent come 5 pm on Sunday but I'm always charged to get back to work on Monday!

Catherine Raynes Open Studios 2009

The Button Factory

855 Islington Street

Studio 223

Portsmouth, NH 03801

Saturday, December 5, 11 a.m. to 5 p.m.

Sunday, December 6, 11 a.m. to 5 p.m.

Customer Service

It's not a given that anytime you pick up the phone or order a cup of coffee that you'll be greeted with a smile and a helpful disposition. I wanted to share my experience with Tiffany's.

Tiffany's you say—with their price tags they better have customer service! Well I've never take that as a given—haven't we all had that rude response or impatient huff at some point even in the finer establishments? Well to be honest I was touched with the extent of care I got for my little star fish necklace that cost all of $195—peanuts by Tiffany's standards.

A little history on my savored necklace. I received it as an anniversary present from my husband many years ago. I wore it exclusively and then one day the chain broke. I went to a local jeweler and they said that I didn't need to replace it there and that I should send it back to Tifanny and they'll replace it for free. So off it went to Tiffany in Boston where it was purchased. They were terrific and within a few weeks I had my necklace back.

Well about a year or so later the chain broke again. Maybe it's me or maybe it's that the chain is quite delicate. Not wanting to dip in the well twice I sat on it. The necklace managed it's way to the back of my jewelry box and eventually other pieces became more important. Periodically I'd pull it out and think, I need to get this fixed.

So this past August we were up in Bar Harbor on a combined painting trip/family vacation. One evening we struck up a conversation with a group and one of the woman tells me she is a VP at Tiffany's down in Virginia. I say funny you mention that and on I go to explain my story. The first thing she says is send it to me. Here's my card, send me an email and I'll have it picked up. I follow up, she passes me to her assistant and off it goes. Emails of understanding and oh do you mind it may be a couple of weeks. Amazing!

So I sit proudly with my new necklace with an extra thick chain. And that fact that I was wearing my "Star Island" t-shirt when the UPS guy delivered it today was not lost on me.

Patience

I'm still learning. Which is a great thing. But breaking my foot and being in a cast has been a learning experience like no other. I have a new found appreciation for the ability to walk anywhere you want, whenever you want. And I'm coming to appreciate the upper body strength I now possess—always my achilles heal.

But patience seems to be the most powerful lesson of all. Not being able to ramble out the door and go for an 8 mile run has been a humbling experience to say the least. I'm learning to take it slow. Knowing my limits and know when to push. Finding new ways to approach old givens—like climbing the three flights of stairs to my studio. Crutch thrown up to landing one, strong grab on the hand rail, crutch plant and big hop, hop, hop. Landing one, pick up crutch, throw to next landing and up I go.

Patience in art is vital. You can't force the creative process. Many breaks, step backs and re-draws can and should happen throughout the creation of your work. And some days you're on and well other days it seems that every stroke is a punishment. And it's equally important to know when to push through or to simply call it a day.

Patience-I'm learning.