Maizy was rescued, snatched up from an Oklahoma “kill” shelter the day before she would have been put down. She is part Ridgeback and part Basenji. I am not sure if her incredibly gentle and grateful disposition is a result of her mixed breed or because of her miraculous last minute rescue. Possibly, a little of both.
She accompanies me to the art studio every day, and promptly sits upon her large olive green pillow right beneath my worktable upon arrival. In between naps, she gazes lazily out at all the busyness of the studio.
My dog is my best friend and a constant companion in my life of which the making of Art is the center. She did not choose this ArtLife, but she has no objections whatsoever to this particular orbit she shares with me.
I can’t imagine the studio, my life, without her in it.
Sometimes, when I am making Art I can let the fact that a painting that is not turning out as I would like, cast an overly serious tone upon the day. It is somewhat ridiculous, how at 6:30 am, all alone in a studio, how worked up you can become by something that is utterly subjective, completely random and virtually unseen by everyone but you.
Often, in the midst of my gathering seriousness, my eyes glance upon Maizy. She is reclined upon her soft pillow watching me. Her gaze is always attentive and loving. She is utterly present, and seems to often calmly emanate several potent queries…
“Why do you feel the need to go to all this trouble? You over there, tall man wearing absolutely silly paint covered clothes, “Bose” paint stained headphones straddling his ears, wearing not just glasses but also an air filter upon his face, are you really sure you need to be going down this particularly hard path that tires you so?
Are you maybe better off just slowing down a bit?”
I rarely take her advice. She is, after all, just a dog. But, I do listen to her. She does remind me that, in the end, I at least have a choice. We all do and Maizy, my dog, my co pilot, reminds me daily of this fact.
Having choices or at least the knowledge that we do, provides spaciousness to the daily routines of life. It turns out that the choices we make have a lot do with how things will or will not go in our day. This spaciousness, like the fresh air that surrounds us, is always available if only we can remember it’s there. I think Maizy just naturally knows this fact. She persistently reminds me to slow down and stop taking things so seriously.
And then, if I can remember, take a long, slow inhalation.
In gratitude, Nicholas
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Hi! I’m
Nicholas Wilton
the founder of Art2Life.
With over 20 years experience as a working artist and educator, I’ve developed a systematic approach that brings authenticity, spontaneity and joy back into the creative process.
Join me and artists from all over the world in our Free Art2Life Artists Facebook Group or learn more here about Art2Life.
A wonderful reminder for this morning!, thanks! I get a similar message daily from my sweet black kitty and studio companion Juno (her message: life is short, enjoy it!). I don’t always listen, but I should…
Yes i always feel like my life is going fast- but not as fast as my dogs- keeps me on target for doing things that matter
My pup sits on my feet as I paint, keeping my toes warm in the cool of my daylight basement. It is a comfort to feel his constant presence.
Thank you Nicholas for sharing about Maizy. When I paint in my friend’s studio in New Mexico, his dog Scotty is a calm and comforting presence when I am splashing paint about and occasionally venturing into angst territory. He is also a “rescue” dog, a sweet yellow lab whose steady and loving gaze also reminds me to take it slow. I feel these “messages” are not necessarily coming from him, but as with other lessons the universe seems to be imparting, are really stemming from own own subconscious, nudging me to wake up and be more present.
By the way, what are you listening to with those headphones? I think this would be an excellent future topic… how sound (music, books on tape, silence, etc) affects our work.
I think that is a good idea about a post about what people listen to– i like to listen to music that is ” picturesque” i read that word on a site that licenses music for videos- they described music that can be re interpreted and that conjures up imagery when listened to- music that is more open ended…right now i am
Listening to a lot of Miles Davis…
Oh yeah. Miles Davis. And dogs, what more does a studio need? I worry about dust and sanding and aerosols in the air when my dogs are nearby. Do you take any precautions for Maizy, like put her in another room if you’re doing a lot of work that would be better done with a mask? Just curious…
Adventures because I love my dog are often proof for me that
love for an animal is easier that love for a human partner. Why? Because I don’t
expect anything in return and yet – his unconditional faith that I will do what
it takes to keep him safe and “that look” in his eyes is reward enough.
However! And there always is a “however”, isn’t there?
Google “travel to the European Union” in your spare time,
and you’ll see many helpful sites. And
you’ll see pages and pages of official papers to download. And the instructions
to take them to a United States Deparment of Agriculture certified Vet, and
then to have them approved by the USDA office, and that this cannot be done
more than 10 days prior to travel, and on and on and on.
I follow the
instructions to the letter every trip, even when most of the time NO ONE, not
EVER, EVER — in all my many trips to France, via Munich, Frankfurt, Madrid, Barcelona,
Paris –NO ONE in the European Union had
ever looked at that paper work! The only ones that are adamant about everything
being done as per the European Union requirements are the vets at the USDA.
They are the ones that seem to think they are above god herself when it comes
to what I HAVE to do before I can fly my precious friend to France! This last
trip brought me to think awful things about the guy in charge in the USDA
office in Sacramento, CA. DR HOU. Dr Who? Yes, I’m sure I don’t have to commit
any homicidal acts, as his disposition itself will assure that one day his
liver will dry up and block the bile in his system. Enough, MAB ! Thoughts like
that don’t solve the problem, but sometimes help my infantile need to vent!
This trip, I planned the visit to the USDA Certified Vet to
get the Health Certificate with time to make the long drive to Sacramento
during minimal traffic. On arrival in Sacto, the personnel there greeted me as
an old friend, and took my paperwork to the back. Shortly afterwards, the
younger vet returned with the sad bad news that my previously certified Vet was
no longer certified! That meant that they would not stamp the paperwork, and
that I would need to find another vet, that was still certified. The nice woman
gave me the address of a nearby vet and said she’d wait for me to go there, get
another health certificate, then come back for the all-important – to no one
but them – stamp!! Merde.
I called that vet right from the office and got the
appointment, and THEN, the afore-mentioned DR HOU came out of his office and
said in accented English, “No, you mus come bahk Monday. We close now!”
Excuse me, I said, “I called and was told the office was
open all day Friday.”
“No, we take las appointment at 3:00 on Friday. We clos now!”
“But I arrived here at 1:30, with all the paperwork that the
vet I have always used provided”
“No, we clos now!”
“But I just drove 2 hours to get here and I leave Tuesday,
and your staff already said they would wait.”
“No, we clos now!”
As he walked away, I did flip him the bird. The nice woman
rolled her eyes and gave me his name and his boss’ name.
I kept the other appointment, found the tel # for the other
USDA office, which can be 2 + hours drive in almost any traffic time, made an
appointment for early Monday morning paid an additional $140 for the second
health certificate, talked to my original vet who found out that one page of his
re-application for certification that he’s had for many years had some anomaly
that Dr Hou rejected. The drive back to Petaluma was fortunately against the
evening traffic.
Monday morning the drive to So SF was slow, but ok. I got
the damn certif. signed and went on to a lovely lunch in Berkeley to celebrate
my brother’s 75th Birthday.
Pastis & I got up at 3 am Tuesday morning to finish
packing and darling Leo, greatest airport shuttle driver, drove us to the
airport. Darling Leo suggested he help out in the airport as well. That was a
great stroke of luck, as American Airlines has “new equipment” on the flights
to Chicago, and the dog kennel that I’ve used in all the flights previous is
now ½” too tall for the cargo door. Merde!
The agents tried everything they could think of: other
flights, finding a smaller kennel at one of the other airlines. Nada, nothing
worked, except to make me a reservation for the next day. Thanks to Leo’s
thoughtfulness, he was still there and drove us back to Petaluma, when I found
a smaller kennel at a nearby petshop, and was also able to change the car
rental reservation for our Paris arrival. Whew!
Pastis & I went to bed early, got up again at 3 am, Leo
took us to the airport again, and we were finally off and flying! My seatmate on the flight to Chicago was a
darling triathlete from Napa named Nicholas who was flying to Nuremburg to
compete in some event and then visit relatives in Italy. We talked triathlon
for 3 hours and I fell hopelessly in love. It was one of those perfect love
affairs: never to have any disappointments as I’d never see him again, but he
was in my dreams for days.
The drive from Paris was one of the most difficult – Pastis & I I kept
having to pull off the autoroute to take naps. We finally arrived in Lagrasse,
only to find that the gal that normally does a great job cleaning, did a really
poor job. I took Pastis for a walk, fed him, made my bed, ate another powerbar, and slept the sleep of the dog-
tired.
Things have improved since then, and life is back to its
normal fun times in the South of France!
The village party to celebrate the new exhibition of
medieval painted ceilings the next night was wonderful, and right out my door
so I could stagger home after too many glasses of local rose’.
Our hikes have resumed to lovely places, Pastis has adapted to French “Croquettes”, and keeps pointing to my easel and box of paints!
Yes, there she is. Those soulful eyes are saying a lot. “Thank you for rescuing me, Nick. Now I will do my best to return the favor.” Maizy, we humans already have a debt of gratitude to pay to our canine friends. Some evolutionary biologists have theorized that dogs are the reason humans became so successful as a species. They protected us and helped us hunt with their amazing senses far superior to ours, not to mention the gift of unconditional companionship and affection.
My dogs enjoy being my partners in art. They keep me grounded and enjoy the times when I’m painting well and happily listening to my music. Sometimes they accompany me when I install at a gallery near my studio. Here they are, enjoying a portrait show.
This is lovely,…:)….thanks,….