Currently writing to you from my families old (but new to us) 1978 Coachman RV aka the “Leprechaun". There's paneled orange wood and not one, but two different floral designs. It’s 70’s at its peak and I’m not complaining. Its 80,000 miles took a toll on the tan carpet and torn down cushions. Stories of America are stained on the gas stove and wallpaper ceilings. Almost 40 years later and she’s still running. Maybe not across America, but its life is still clear and is now currently in the hands of my mother.
My mother, Painter Deb, has colored my life to extremes. Am I a bit surprised she came home yesterday in the front seat of an RV? The questions don’t lie within where she got it and how to drive it, but what she will do with it. Its typical days of an RV are over and a makeover is in store. My mom's mind fills to capacity every day with ideas and when an ad for a 78’ Coachmen popped up on her Facebook, her mind about had it with staying within the boundaries of her skull. As inspiring as a road trip to the west sounds, the Leprechaun would doubtfully make it. So, my mom and I are starting a new project with its memories in mind. We will keep its late 70’s flare, but add our own as well. The color scheme is unbeatable, but its smell and wasp nests are a no go. It'll be stationed at a local farm that holds weddings or maybe be an Air BnB on wheels. Eventually, guests will be able to fall asleep to the vibe of the 70's and my mom and I's attentive details.
Projects like these are never vacant from my home. The floors of my kitchen are green, red, blue, and purple and the mediums of art supplies range from paint to rusty metal wire. Projects like these are never vacant from my life. Creating was chiseled into my nature and I thank my mom for that. She has watered my notions and constructed stencils before I could do it myself. Our ideas flow from different rivers, but when they flow as one, it forms a glow visible even in the foggiest of weather.
Art has no definitive form. We are all artists. From these 500 words, I write to you, to the way you organize your day. An artist is within each of us and all it's power is found within your head and fingertips. It's how you view your mornings and how you resist anger. It's how you flourish in your empathy and use your heart to carve your meaning. Don't forget to breathe and grayscale is okay, as long as it's your choice. Secure your feet to the ground, but allow your thoughts and your heart to wander more than just occasionally.
