Life, as anyone knows who lives it, does not consist of a series of unbroken, sunny days.

 

But then again, places known for a series of clear, sunny days unbroken by rain tend to be deserts. It seems that, within the world's geography at least, what we call bad weather is very much a part of what makes a place lush or not, and some level of rain, wind, overcast skies, and temperature ranges is to be expected. Indeed, one of life's simple pleasures is to sit inside with a warm fire and a cup of tea, watching the rain fall.

 

Sometimes, however, we're not in a cozy room but out in the elements, and at that moment, the rain does not seem pleasant at all. It is then, when life's storms hit, that we pull our jacket tighter around us, bend our head to the wind, and do whatever needs to be done to ride through this storm successfully -- we walk faster, we seek shelter, we race toward land even though land seems far away. In the midst of it, we act, and we act based upon prior training we have had in other difficult situations.

 

In other words, the more we've been through, the more we are able to get through.

 

Ahead of the Storm, Steve's nautical painting above, captures a sailboat as it is in that transition stage between sunlight and storm, and the sailors, aware of what is coming up behind them, move quickly and efficiently to outpace the storm. One viewer's comment -- that the work reminded her of the Dawn Treader of C.S. Lewis's Narnia book -- pleased Steve, who enjoys the entire book series, and appreciated the sense of adventure spotted by the viewer.

 

Life is an adventure, we say, and though in quiet moments we don't want storms to unbalance our sense of peace and serenity, we are not given that choice. It is after the storm that we look at one another, expel a deep breath, and say, "I never thought I would get through that, but I did."

 

In creating Ahead of the Storm, Steve observed that painting a sailboat is much like painting a person's face -- each craft is unique and complex, and the artist balances accuracy of detail with the personality of the craft itself. To see more of Steve's original work, please visit his Original Paintings page. If you own a sailboat, or embark on various adventures, or have a moment in life that you want remembered in a special way, the please visit Steve's Commissioned Paintings page, and contact him concerning a customized painting for your own home.

 

To find prints of Steve's works, please visit the retailers below:

 

             

 

All people, regardless of whether they live today or 3,000 years ago, consider their times and ways "modern." And while we are tempted to chuckle at this -- "How quaint! They call that rackety little buggy the latest in transportation!" we have to step back and ask ourselves, "Two hundred years from now, will people think we look silly, staring down at our hands as we thumb-type on that little plastic/metal contraption?"

 

Technology is a two-edged sword, cutting through mundane tasks -- like washing dirty clothes, trimming the lawn without a scythe, or providing hot water for a bath -- with one slash, but on the backlash, it inflicts damage, notably to the time we have to live our lives. Every advent in technology promises extra time for the ordinary person: no longer required to draw water from a well and hand-cart it back to the house, we'll have HOURS of suddenly freed time that we can use for leisure.

 

With enough technology, we won't have to work at all!

 

It's not amazing that politicians, educators, media propagandists, and businesses continue to make this promise, but rather that we continue to believe it.

 

While technology can and does make our lives easier with certain tasks, there is no guarantee that it will make our lives simpler, slower, more satisfying and meaningful. This truth arises when we look back to the "good old days" and sigh,

 

"It sure was simpler and quieter back then. I wish we could be like that now!"

 

 

We can. Initially -- and ironically -- it takes work, because it is work to question the norm of our day and decide to do things differently. But the more we do this, the easier and more natural it becomes.

 

Do you want to listen to music, but find yourself sidetracked by downloading even more tunes to your playlist?

 

Sing or hum to yourself, and dance around the room. (If you're holding a baby as you do this, onlookers are less apt to make snide comments about your inability to carry a tune.)

 

 

Craving a hot drink, but feel overwhelmed at getting out the espresso machine and cleaning it up afterward?

 

Boil a pot of water, brew a cup of tea in a pretty cup, and enjoy the gentle rhythm of sipping the beverage.

 

Dreading, before you start, selecting a movie from the long list of recommendations the streaming site

"chooses" for you?

 

Grab a deck of cards and play solitaire. It was around long before the computer.

 

 

In our "modern" day, finding simple often starts with putting down or away a digital device -- be it a phone, tablet, laptop, or basically anything that glows and needs to be recharged -- and connecting with ordinary, old fashioned things like books, views outside the window, pet cats, pianos, tea pots, board games, long walks, and people. It involves the conscious choice to slow down, skip efficiency, forego multi-tasking, and pass on "getting something productive done" with every waking moment.

 

Time is not meant to be solely saved, managed, administered, invested, and regulated -- all terms of business that we are too apt to incorporate in our precious, unique, individual lives. Our lives are meant to be lived.

 

The images in this article are Steve's Boldman pieces, artworks that use an early 20th century house as their venue, as well as clothing worn by one of the original residents of the home. They are all available as original paintings (scroll down), as well as prints -- click on the individual images to be taken to their print page on the site, with links to their online retailers. You can find a wide variety of Steve's art as prints at the following online retailers:

 

 

    

   

To many people, friendship is a sensitive subject, probably because we have so many misconceptions about what it is. Though we don't like to admit it, we're often concerned that we don't have the correct number, or type, of friends.

 

TV and movie world -- two really bad places to look to for examples of real life -- make it seem so easy and effortless. Large groups of quirky people move in and out of one another's living environs, doing stuff that generally has nothing to do with anything most of us do all day. They just hang out.

 

School, from kindergarten on, teaches us that life is all about friends, and they should be within 6 months of our age. Certainly in the same grade.

 

Work allows us to expand the age parameters a bit but not much, and we get the idea that our professional friendships should look like the ones we see on . . . movies and TV. If only we could be as financially secure and possessed of such leisure time as those in make-believe world!

 

Friends are rare treasures. Those of us who are exceptionally fortunate found our first friends in our siblings, lifelong companions who share unique memories that can be replicated nowhere else. Others of us have childhood friends -- some of whom we have outgrown, others whom we have kept. As time and circumstances move us from place to place, friends move in and out of our lives, but each person makes a permanent and lasting impression on who we are. Rediscovering an old friend after years of absence is like re-reading a special book we loved in childhood, only now we are able to draw greater depth, greater meaning from the story.

 

If we are wise, we realize that we have many friends in odd places -- some quite a bit older than we are, some much younger. We share with them aspects of our lives but not all -- reading tastes, a love for travel, a propensity for punning, a mania for cats. Our differences -- politics and religion are the two most divisive -- take their proper place as "not that important" in comparison to our relationship with someone we care deeply about.

 

It's not how many friends we have. It's not who they are and what other people think about them -- or what others think about us when we are with a particular person. It certainly has nothing to do with networking, a business concept that, at base, involves using other people to promote our own goals with a minimum of outlay on our part.

 

Friendship is interaction with other human beings -- it's listening, caring, doing for another, accepting from another, laughing, loving, and being there -- just . . . being there. No value can be placed upon it, because it is truly priceless.

 

The original painting by Steve Henderson above is The Harvesters, featuring two sisters -- best friends from the beginning -- making memories with one another. The image below is Ladies Day out in Paris, which is available as an original painting on Steve's website and as a print at Walmart. The models for this work are all related, literally best friends forever, who turn every opportunity to be together into a memorable occasion.

 

 

Find Steve's work as original oil paintings on his website, and as prints in the following retail establishments:

 

           

 

Memories are beautiful, mysterious things -- which aren't really "things" at all. Triggered by a particular aroma, a musical score, a taste we remember from childhood, the feeling of sunlight brushing across our face, a wave of memories rushes over us, and we are momentarily in two places at once -- the present and the past. Who we are and eventually become is a compendium of those memories, and how we choose to use them.

 

The odd, and almost magical, aspect of memory triggers is that they happen unexpectedly, when we're in the midst of doing something else, and weren't thinking about that random moment when we were eight years old, stooping down to inhale the fragrance of an iris, at all. And yet in a flash we are there, smelling the flower today, yet feeling -- briefly yet powerfully -- what it was like when we were eight.

 

Of course, not all memories are worth remembering, and these we rightly set aside and do our best to not revisit. But the ones we do treasure are worth doing just that -- treasuring. Not wallowing in, not hankering for to the point that we do not appreciate the moments we live today, but treasuring as bright stars that add to other bright stars in the sky, all of them joining together to create literal sparkle and dimension to our lives.

 

The painting above is Zion: Below the Emerald Pools, an original oil commissioned by a client who visited Zion National Park and was awestruck by its beauty, its majesty, its magnificence and natural wonder. Wanting to recapture and hold these sensations -- which are terrific feelings to contemplate when we are surrounded by the pressures and stresses of the unlimited demands of "modern" life -- the client worked with Steve to find the perfect landscape to encapsulate the feelings of Zion.

 

Commissioned paintings are a wonderful way to capture a memory and make it a real, dynamic, growing aspect of the present.  Contact Steve at [email protected] to discuss the places, times, and people who have made an impact upon your life, and how you can see these memories translated into a beautiful fine art painting.