Watercolour Class

Lovely. That's how I would describe my day yesterday.
My Dad and my Grandma (who I would like to mention is 93) talked me into taking a watercolour class with them. As much as I relish the time spent with the two of them, there were a few hurdles to overcome. Firstly, I am terrified of any art class since my first attempt (she told me my painting was WRONG, and I never returned). Second, any art class that involves "real" artistic talent freaks me out. Especially since my grandma is an incredible oil painter and my dad is an amazing charcoal sketcher, then there is me, never one for the landscape realism type art, I don't even consider myself an artist of any kind! And lastly, watercolour. Seriously, all the cards were stacked against me.
But I enjoyed myself! The artist putting on the class Sylvia Russell, a local artist (sing Manitoba praises) and a real gentle soul. I instantly was comfortable with her. She never once stood behind me and "instructed". I loved this. I was free to play, I especially like to "splatter", and just have fun. I was there to spend time creating with my family. Three generations, as my dad announced proudly to the full class, creating together. I found it so interesting how different our techniques were (or lack of in my case) but how all our work turned out beautifully.
My theory is it's because it all came from love. Love of time spent together. I forget how old my grandma is. She is still so spry, lives on her own, walks everywhere and is very involved with her community church. Keeping busy, as she says is the most important thing at her age. I take yesterday afternoon as a gift. I also will relish in the lesson. I will make more time for afternoons like this as life is short, well not in grandma's case, but I want to know when the time comes for her that I have no regrets in lost time. This is why I moved back home. To spend time with my family and create beautiful memories together. I wish you beautiful memories today.