Letting Myself Be Seen

Writing online and showing my art …letting myself be seen. Finally.

Author’s photo

I have intentionally put myself in the background in my life, shying away from the spotlight, trying to keep from being seen too much.

I can go into detail about the reasons for this, mostly from my childhood. No blame, simply that we are humans raised by humans, so we all have issues that we carry into our lives. I found that I felt safer trying to blend into the background as much as I could. Not easy to do for an only child, let me tell you. I learned to be quiet and out of harm’s way. Or so I thought, anyway.

Here I am now at 70 years of age. I think it’s time to let go of hiding myself. I have been writing online for a while now, and even though I still feel that bit of anxiety when I hit the submit button, I hit it anyway. And I am thrilled to get responses from readers who are in some way touched by my writing, who relate to what I have to say. 

I joined an art association and have participated in their annual art show twice now. Again, that rush of anxiety as I try not to compare myself to the other artists there who have degrees in art, whose work I find beautiful. 

I have always loved to draw and was able to take some beginning adult evening classes in painting, toward the end of my working career, to learn some basic techniques. But I don’t have any degree in art. I have not studied formally. And yet, there are people who are drawn to my work. Who stand in front of one of my paintings and smile, who even seek me out sometimes to comment. What a gift.

I post my paintings on my Instagram account and am get delighted to get likes. 

And now, my editor from Crow’s Feet at Medium Publications ( thank you! Michele Cambardella) has suggested that I include some of my artwork online in my posts. To expose both parts of me simultaneously to an audience seems to somehow break another barrier. I don’t have all the words for what this stirs up in me yet, but it seems to be something about letting more of myself be seen at once. By people that I don’t know. This is so against the rules that I have imposed upon myself for all these years. 

And I say to myself, why not? If not now, when?

So, this is my painting of Lisa, an elephant that I have known, as a volunteer at our local zoo, for 10 years. An elephant who developed some painful conditions as she aged that were not able to be helped, despite all the treatments that the zoo valiantly tried which even included stem cell treatment. 

She was recently euthanized. We are all deeply grieving the loss of her. Including her very close elephant friend, Donna, who will soon be moved to an elephant sanctuary in Tennessee so that she can be among other female elephants. We only had two female elephants at the zoo, and Donna and Lisa were best buddies, sleeping together every night. So Donna, along with the rest of us, is grieving. 

Female elephants need to be with other female elephants. So, we will send Donna to this beautiful sanctuary. We will miss her and are in the process of saying goodbye to her. Another loss, although this one, I think, will be a good move for Donna. I am hoping that she makes new friends and lives out the rest of her life peacefully.

This painting of mine was done with many tears throughout the entire process. A portrait of love and grief. A tribute to a friend who I felt the kind of connection with that goes deeper than words. A life-to-life connection. One being witnessing another, breathing in the same space, together on this earth for this moment in time. 

I find yet another lesson in living life. Daring to be oneself, as Lisa so very much was. She was feisty and let her feelings be known. If she didn’t like something, she had no problems picking up a log and throwing it in the direction of whatever, or whoever, it was that was displeasing her. She once, when one of the zookeepers was blowing bubbles as part of a celebration, inhaled a trunkful of water and completely drenched him, much to the delight of the guests who were there. He wasn’t even in the elephant exhibit, mind you, but close enough to irritate her. Good for her!

So maybe, just maybe, I can learn from Lisa. I can let myself show what I feel, not be afraid to show when something irritates me, not be afraid to be myself. Grab a trunkful of water and spray someone down when needed. Throw a log in their direction. Rumble and trumpet. Let my size and strength show. 

Maybe I can be who I am. Claim my own version of beauty. Wrinkles, saggy skin, glorious larger body and all. 

I can write. I can paint. And let myself be heard and seen. There will be time enough to be buried and hidden. But not now.