I had a day off yesterday. Usually, I try to go hiking, but the weather wasn’t great. White-grey sky and on/off rain. Instead, I walked up the hill to use my Starbucks reward for a treat and to write a while.
My local Starbucks is next to my local theatre. I had noticed that MAUDIE was playing, and though I hadn’t planned it, the next showing was in less than an hour.
I fell in love with Maud Lewis when I was living in Halifax. Her paintings are what the critics call “outsider” and “primitive” art, which only means she didn’t go to school to learn. Maud painted with materials she found. She painted because she was stuck in the house. She painted because it made her happy.
I wrote more in a zine I made about the Art Gallery of Nova Scotia. I drew her tiny house, which lives in the gallery today for all to visit. She painted flowers on the windows and birds on the walls.
Maud’s life wasn’t all happy. Ethan Hawke is terrifyingly good as her taciturn husband. The whole theatre gasped when Everett hit Maud for talking back. But Maud’s last words to him, before she dies in her hospital bed, are, “I was loved.”
Her paintings are a bright and colourful reminder that it’s not that hard to bring a bit of joy into your life. If you don’t have paint, use markers. If you don’t have canvas, draw on the wall. If you can’t see any flowers through your window, make some. Make joy.