Helping with Art

For the last two years, watercolor painting has been my salvation from stress. There is something about getting the creative juices flowing that makes me feel like my purpose in life goes deeper than washing dirty laundry or reheating leftovers for dinner. When I paint, I am in another world where I can choose what the weather will be. It is a beautiful place.

Now I can share that space with the internet world.

Last week my new website was launched - Art Helping Humanity

It is a concept I have thought about almost constantly since I sold my first painting about a year ago. The site allows anyone to purchase my paintings and prints, as well as other people's art. Currently, there is also a photographer offering her unique style of pictures along with my paintings. Every purchase results in a donation to a charity that is selected by the artist. Several of my works are earmarked for organizations that provide excellent services for individuals with autism and their families. They are:

Decoding the Mystery of Autism, which contributes to the Center for Children with Special Needs in Boston, Massachusetts;

See Me, linked to Autism Treatment Centers of Texas in Dallas;

Continuous Puzzle of Autism, helping the Autism Society of America in Bethesda, Maryland; and

Autism's First Flutter, with proceeds going to Ramapo for Children, in upstate New York.

You can probably tell by the charities I have selected that I am just millimeters shy of falling off the left side of the earth. Just a few minutes ago, Ian demonstrated to me that he is stepping on my heels as fast as he can.

I asked the kids to turn off the t.v. and the computer and to meet me in the kitchen to discuss our next activity of the day. Honestly, I hoped they had something in mind because I'm too tired to think of anything creative today. Between Ian calling me to his room twice during the night for a drink of water and Ainsley joining us in our bed at 2:00 a.m., there isn't a cell in my brain that is awake enough to keep the two of them entertained. When they reached my side, Ian began insisting with a shriek that God had created all of the energy in the earth and we needed to turn off all the electricity in the house before we used it all up. He walked around the house turning everything off that had a switch or a button.

I am thrilled that he is becoming so energy conscious. On the flip side, however, as soon as he finished dimming the lights, he stood next to me and asked,

"Mom, can I have the Star Wars Complete Saga video game?"

"How is that going to save energy?" I asked.

"I'll play it with the lights turned off," he said.

"Oh, I see. But your computer uses electricity," I reminded him.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot. Maybe the game hasn't been invented yet, so I can't go buy it anyway," he tried to hide his disappointment.

"You could invent it," I suggested.

"No, I can't. Kids don't invent things. Only God invents things," he said.

At that moment, I stared at my son and had a vision of him skidding past me on the sidewalk at the edge of the earth and flying off into the deep end of huge canyon of confusion. We looked at each other in silence. I could think of nothing to say. Neither could he. Discussions like this typically go on for 20 minutes at least. We both must be in really bad shape.

Ian turned and walked upstairs to the playroom and began building some new creature with his Bionicle pieces. Even if he thinks he can't invent something, he is extremely creative and artistic. I hope ... with fingers crossed and breath held ... that he will develop enough interest in my strange painting techniques to create a masterpiece of his own to sell on the new site. I wonder what charity he will select to be the beneficiary of his talent.

I have decided to begin searching for a charity that provides massages and hot herbal tea for mothers who are so exhausted they can't even smart off to their children. If I wasn't so tired, I'd paint them a picture, too. Right now, all I can do is click my mouse on the "save now" button.