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The Art of Living

The greatest lesson of all

By Dré PontbriandPublished 3 years ago 4 min read
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My mom with the children of "Painting Hope"

Her presence commands the attention of all—she is the sunshine personified. Although generally adorned in dazzling shades of turquoise silks and a 1000-kilowatt smile, those who know her understand that her show-stopping exterior is but a pale reflection of the vastness of her heart.

Born in the bright and bustling Mexico City, my mother moved to Canada as a diplomat some forty years ago. She had no intention on remaining beyond the completion of her contract since the friendly North, back then, was not exactly welcoming to a woman of colour.

She missed the vibrancy of her land, the warmth of her people, the spice of her food. Alas, the green eyes of a small-town Coastguard captain, my father, implored her to stay, and they started their family in the nation’s capital.

Upon giving birth to me, her health deteriorated to such a point that she had no choice but to put her career on hold. For the independent woman who had worked multiple jobs from the age of 16 as the sole provider for her family back in Mexico, it was as though the world had stopped spinning. Who was she, if not a successful businesswoman, a bread-winner, a boss?

A neurological condition gave way to chronic fatigue and severe depression, though you wouldn’t know it by the way she greeted us after school with sparkling eyes and a meal made from scratch. Not to mention the fact that she spent her evenings joyously driving us to the ends of the earth for our countless extracurricular activities.

When she could have succumbed to the limitations of her illness, mom chose to rise into her power. With the stroke of a brush, her journey took an inspiring twist, and she went on to become a successful, world-renowned visual artist.

Much like the illustrious Frida Kahlo, she morphed into an alchemist of life—transforming tears into rivers of inspiration, despair into glory, pain into magic. She had spent her life doing what she had to do to get by, suppressing her soul’s purpose of bringing more beauty into the world but now, she was answering the call.

My childhood is filled with memories of countless art expositions, workshops, events, and fundraisers. Despite her physical fatigue and declining health, mom rallied people from all around the world, raising thousands of dollars to help those in need: the disenfranchised, victims of natural disasters, at-risk youth, children with disabilities, and the life-threateningly ill.

I have been inspired by much of her philanthropic work but my favourite of all her efforts is a project entitled “Painting Hope”. On an afternoon stroll in the town of San Miguel de Allende, Mexico, where my parents have become regular snowbirds, mom was once again inspired to change the world.

In the face of a child selling 5cent gum and homemade dolls on a street corner, she saw an opportunity to brighten lives. She singlehandedly created an art-therapy program to teach underprivileged children to paint, and so much more. Children from broken homes, living in poverty, with worries far beyond what many of us in the Western world could even fathom. Children who have never known what it’s like to play. Children forced to grow up too soon.

As the kids became increasingly passionate about art, mom began selling their paintings to her friends through social media. Every year, using 100% of the sale profits, in addition to her own out-of-pocket expenses, she takes the children, many of whom have never been to a mall, on an outing where they are free to pick out their heart’s desires—toys, clothing, toiletries, whatever they want. They get to reap the rewards of their creative endeavours and understand that they are capable of creating abundance in their lives.

Watching them grow, seeing their smiles widen over the years, simply because someone believed in them is enough to bring one to tears. Maybe they will go on to become world-renowned artists, and maybe not, but at least for a brief time, they have a place where they can leave their troubles at the door, a few hours where they get to be children.

Above and beyond just learning how to paint, is the fact that these kids are seeing firsthand that with perseverance, anything is possible. Though their life circumstances may be unfavourable, they have been given the gift of hope by their heaven-sent "maestra".

My mom taught me innumerable valuable lessons, but perhaps my favourite one of all is that art connects us—to ourselves, to one another, to whatever our concept of God might be. Although it may not be what makes the world go round, art is certainly what makes it worth living.

She showed me through her example that the most embodied artist is the one who understands that life itself is the ultimate canvas—that there is nothing in the world more powerful than the point where art and life intersect. She has taught me, and thousands of others, including the children pictured above, that the highest calling of any human being is to master the art of living beautifully.

The measure of an artist then, lies in the answer to the following question: Did my existence leave this world a little bit better than I found it?

A painter of love, an artist of light, a bringer of hope, my mother is the definition of boss mom.

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About the Creator

Dré Pontbriand

Writer. Alchemist. Freedom Enthusiast.⁂

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  • Gida Pontbriandabout a year ago

    Anamazing article about the Art of Living, which has brought tears to my eyes and the many people who have read it. Keep on Dre delighting us with your wise words.

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