The Power of a Good Story.

I am writing this blog because of two important people in my life, Bucksty and Si (pronounced “see”.)

Just recently my mother, Ruth LaMontagne, my husband Huntley and myself bought a home together. We did it during the pandemic and we are just now really feeling settled. It has been quite a journey but love prevails and we are all happy together. Living with your mother helps you remember what it was like to be a child. 

I started looking through a lot of pictures and came across this one. Yes that’s me in the first grade( I think). I looked at the picture and thought about the little girl and what was going on in her mind back then and I remembered Bucksty.  Bucksty had an amazing father who was a police officer and extremely interesting. He came home from work and told great stories and he allowed her to ride in his police car. I loved thinking about her life and all the things she experienced.  Si was the kid that got away with everything. Anything that I couldn’t do, he was allowed to do. He rode the school bus. He ate candy all the time. He had a ton of toys and his parents were absolutely perfect. 

There was one problem with these two friends. They were not real. They were make-believe. Their stories empowered me in some way. I had a wonderful family and my parents were very loving but whenever I had a moment of discontent, I drifted into their lives and lived through them. If my parents asked me to clean my room or do something I didn’t want to do, I would proclaim, “Si’s parents never make him do that.” If I wanted to do something adventurous, I would insist, “Bucksty’s dad takes her there.” Eventually my parents started to get concerned about these make-believe friends and took me to the doctor. “She’s a creative child. She will eventually stop doing this.” He said. And as soon as I went to school the friends went away.  

Perhaps I feel a bit sad for that little girl who had to say “good bye” to her make-believe friends. Maybe that’s why I feel a connection to people’s stories. Maybe that’s why I became a portrait painter and a painter of people’s stories. I hope to use this blog to be a place to celebrate such stories. Hearing how others walk through life and how they relate to each other and the world around them continues to fascinate me and I know I am not alone. Together I hope we are encouraged and empowered as I was so many years ago. Come back and see me in this space. There is more to come. Stay tuned.