“You are such an artist.”
Sometimes we say that jokingly to friends who may have stepped outside of their box and created something with more flourish than their usual endeavor — a cookie extravagantly decorated, maybe the intricate new children’s tree house in the backyard, or the doodles seen on a notebook on the kitchen counter.
“Yeah, right,” they scoff.
Perhaps we are giving a friendly jab at the ribbon-adorned holiday gift, but sometimes we mean it … and they won’t take you seriously.
“No I mean it,” I said. “This is really good; you should be so proud!”
I was talking about the creation my friend made out of found objects on her farm — pieces of wood that had dried up in the riverbed, some vintage dishes from a yard sale, an old tire rim. She created this wooden masterpiece that resembled a cowboy, with a bandana around the “neck” and all.
This wasn’t her first work of art out of found lumber. A few months ago, she was almost giddy because someone … actually two or three people … were interested in purchasing one of her pieces at her yard sale.
“Can you believe someone wanted it?” she asked incredulously. “For a gallery no less!”
The piece is now in a local gallery with a small tag that reads “created by local artist.”
When she told me about the tag she became a little self-conscious — like she wasn’t worthy of the title.
It just so happens that wasn’t the last piece she contributed to the gallery. It purchased another piece from her to display jewelry — a creative stand with thin, knotted branches extending upward — the perfect setting for pretty necklaces and earrings.
But still, she refuses to acknowledge she’s an artist.
“This is just a hobby,” she told me. “I guess some people would call it art, but this is just something I do.”