Acceptance.

Artist Bio:
I can remember sitting on my Grand Lee’s porch with my small hands in hers, after awhile she would say, “Bridget, you have such pretty little hands.” It was such a simple moment yet it was such a profound one. It was then that I began to look and see in a new way, in such a way as to see everyone and thing as beautiful, even myself.


Having been born and raised on a farm near Cummings, Kansas, to Tom and Pauline Lee. The farm up on the windy hill is where it all started for me. With my Older sister and brother, April and Thomas, and my younger sister, Kimberly, always jumping in to pitch a hand, we were never afraid of getting a little dirty. I learned to love the earthy feels and scents of the farm. Playing in dad’s tool box was always a favorite past time of mine, getting dirty and oily while always managing to misplace his socket wrench. He would pick me up, dust me off, and always manage to find that oily wrench hidden underneath something, somewhere.

It was also in the kitchen of the house where I continued my love of home feels and scents, whether it was baking pies with my mother, baking bread with my Grandmother Lee, or searing a pork chop with my Grandmother Weishaar. I know the feel of the lumpy dough and rare flesh under my hands, always either kneading or tenderizing. And always with an apron on or near by, I can still feel the 100% cotton on my skin and remember the scent of it, clean laundry, flour, and grease. It was here that my family helped nurture my love of art; however, it was not until I went to college that I began to think that this wide world of art was for me.

When I started here at Kansas State University, I applied as a secondary art education major. It was not until I took Introduction to Oil Painting that I walked in to the room and realized that it smelled like home. The oil paint felt like the greasy, blackness I would find in dads tool box, as well as, the feel of the brush in my hand working its way across the canvas felt like smoothing melted butter on top of the fresh baked bread. It was here, in this place, that I found acceptance.
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Nancy said something to me on Thursday. I knew this but sometimes when you are so close to your work it is hard to remember everything all the time. She said, "Bridget, people will accept things in paintings that they won't accept from an image, from reality. " Then she asked me, "is it important that people know these paintings are you? I mean if you showed in a gallery in New York would it be important for the viewers there to know it is you to understand the work?" "I think this work is about acceptance, not only of your body, but its almost like you have forgiven yourself for something."

Thats it. Acceptance. I want it so bad. I yearn for it, yet I almost don't want it if it costs all this much. I just want to scream at times. I am tired of running circles for certain people. This is my time to go, to do, to see, to be. If I feel like spending time on you then it is not wasted but I am learning to say no and be okay with it.

I am not pushing myself to my limits and this is unacceptable. I need to make goals and maintain them. I didn't get all the stuff done in studio I wanted. I am going tomorrow before we head out of town with Vicky.
I need my camera case, shoes, felting. I am going to needle felt on the way out of town. I need to sketch and research, oh and read two articles for Nancy. Hmm...yes. Alrighty well off to get something done.

Right or wrong, do something because to do nothing is to fail.

-B