It’s about Tim

Bear down

I remember years ago, around 1987 or ‘88, hanging out with Ashley and drawing. She had a cool art studio off her bedroom and I went over a few times to draw.

One day, she looked over while I was drawing and said, “bear down.”

I said, “what?”

She took my colored pencil and sketchpad and started coloring in the area I was working on with a lot more pressure. I was slightly irritated; arrogant enough to assume that she was messing with my style. I think I just let her have the drawing and finish it the way she thought it should be finished. A gift of a drawing from me, because I was secretly too proud to keep it. “You’re welcome.”

I’ve thought about that occasion over the years and now that we are married and I’m more mature, I see something in it that I had not seen before. Bear with me as I take a quick tangent.

For various reasons, that I won’t go into here because they are a bit personal, I grew up overly frugal (is that a nice way of saying “cheap?”). When I was young, maybe twelve or so, I went with my step-mother, step-brother and step-sister to New York. Linda, my step-mother, loves to tell the story of how I would not contribute any of my allowance to buy my dad a gift from a street vendor. I told myself for years, and still do, that it was because I didn’t want to spend my money on a fake Rolex, but what would it have mattered? Why was I reluctant, really? Later Linda was going to take us the Empire State building and my reply was “I don’t want to do anything else that costs.” Overly frugal, right? Or cheap bastard? Either or, it’s not the way I want to live my life.

Now let me return to Ashley and me, and art. I had some stupid pride stuff going on in my head back in high school and felt a bit threatened by Ashley’s artistic ability. My art was crazy and maybe unique, but truth be told it was, and mostly still is, half-assed and undisciplined. Most of what I created was done in an hour or two, an afternoon at the most and it was frequently faint. I was frugal with my supplies and time. Threatened by Ashley’s work, I occasionally told myself it was unoriginal and mainstream. But, unlike me, she wasn’t afraid to study and learn from others (even me) and she started doing some absolutely amazing stuff.  We have a few pieces hanging in the house and her parents haves some that astonish me. They are without a doubt bold and beautiful because she bore down, completely focused and committed to what she was creating.

It’s no secret that art reveals the artist. Scholars can determine artists personalities by artists’ brush strokes and the colors they use.

Ashley doesn’t hold back and she’s not afraid of hurting feelings (except maybe mine at times). She recognizes what she wants or needs to do and does it. Ashley bears down in everything that she does. My only regret is that she is so focused now on medicine that she rarely draws.

I asked you earlier to bear with me, and by doing so implied that I would have a point. Recently I went through a personal development course. During that course I received feedback that I was “holding back” in other words not bearing down. For whatever reasons - reasons be damned - I haven’t been living my life the way I want to; to it’s fullest.

From now on I’m bearing down. It starts tomorrow with a mountain bike race - something I’ve wanted to do for a while, but never took the plunge. And it continues on Monday as I push myself harder on the job search. And it continues each morning as I write with discipline and not just when I feel like it.