“So that’s my story,” I said to my dear friend, taking a sip of my re-heated coffee, getting up to re-heat it again.

“Do you think you could illustrate it with a few scenes?” I asked her eagerly. She had so graciously agreed to help me prepare to share my life story and hopefully offer some encouragement to some teenage girls, who would be my audience in just a few Fridays. These young women had also been through some very traumatic events in their young lives, and I wanted to share not just my story, but what got me through it, and my joy and hope on the other side.

With anticipation to hear her ideas, and already having visions in my head of which scenes she could focus on, wondering if she would choose the same as I already had, I waited for her response. She seemed to toss it all around in her mind for a few moments before speaking.

“I’m not that kind of artist, Donna. I don’t do scenes. I’m more abstract than that,” my friend started out, and I hedged myself up for what I felt was about to be disappointment, considering that I had asked too much of my friend on such short notice. My ideas seem to always be inspired by the pressure of a deadline.

But then she continued, “Here’s what I see. I imagine one big painting that encapsulates all of your story all at once. I’m very physical when I paint, and I make big swooping moves with my arms. I throw paint around. I make a big mess. I put my whole body into the piece. I can just feel all of the emotion and activity of the scenes you described. I’m excited just thinking about it. I’d like to try that, one big abstract painting. How does that sound?”

I was getting more and more excited as she threw her arms around describing her artistic process. “Yes! Yes, I love it!! I can’t wait to see what you create.” I responded with huge relief and excitement and renewed energy. This is going to be bigger than I had envisioned, I thought to myself.

Ooh, I should tell her that out loud, I thought. “I love your idea even better than mine. Thank you so much!”

After three hours of sitting at my kitchen table with nothing but tea and coffee, and having talked through all the emotional events and traumas of my life, we were both famished. She set off to her lunch appointment with another friend, and I said goodbye with plans to grab an apple and peanut butter and finish my other visual aids I was preparing for my speech in three weeks. (I’m so visual, I brought a whole carload of stuff!)

But before I start sharing too much of my story with you in my various blog categories, I would love to hear what you see in this painting right off the bat.

Please share with me…

What do you see?

What would you title it?

Does it move you in any way or bring up any emotions?

Does it make you wonder what’s behind it (besides the tree it’s leaning on)?