I have always loved art. I love music and song and percussion. Music helps me to retreat from the hecticness of this life. But I have been blessed by peace thru my art. Apparently, others didn’t see all of that when my art was shown. I believe that sometimes our art expresses what we are not feeling on the surface.
I was in this one exhibit. I did not post my photo because I thought it was vain. I also know what a hypercrite I am. So I listened to the patrons of the arts as they visited my room, or section. In this case it was a room, because it was a renovated architecturally authentic home from the days of old. But still parts were a replica. These kind people juried me into their gallery.
The responses were surprisingly good. Some of the reactions felt odd to me. This has happened more than once. I introduced myself as the artist. These patrons of the arts are there to sincerely look at the work that we do.
What made, and makes me sad, is that these kind people oft times mentioned to me that, “Kathy, maybe you should do more black art.” Then there was the kind smile. I’m black and I’m an artist! What’s the problem. The problem is marketibility. I didn’t get it at my first show. It took me a while to realize what these people were telling me. What is black art?
I go shopping for a bathroom rug at Ross and it hits me! I see paintings of women carrying baskets on their heads. Paintings of giraffes. A beautiful ‘painting’ of a black woman in a big hat! Oh! I see. My mountains are not ethnic enough. I now have to paint a picture of our struggle as black people. Is that the only message that I can send to the world? I like giraffes as much as the next person. But if I don’t do that, am I not IN as an artist? I am a multi-layered human being. I happen to be a black woman. I feel no responsibility to paint to the masses according to always thinking about the oppression that the news tells me I’m supposed to feel which I actually don’t. I did once try to paint about the beauty of motherhood as I had four small ones at home at that time. It was a woman holding a child. I couldn’t get this sense of dread off of her face nor from her eyes. I questioned my own motherhood. I gave it a week. So I turned her into a big red mountain with a stream around it. I loved that one. I love being a mother. The truth is…sometimes its hard.
What I love is that true freedom that comes to me through art. Even when I’m looking at an old masterpiece, I absorb the work. I feel as though I am there with every stroke of the brush and how the artist had to tilt the arm to get that angle of stroke. I am there.
This painting is called Mother Mary by Kathy Hatch
The other day I was talking to a friend on the phone. She’s been having some problems. I listened. I talked a lot. I hoped that I had helped her. But when I got off the phone and was driving on my way to an appointment, I became very sad because there were so many things that I forgot to say.
She knows who Jesus is. I know this because she was there for me and my family when we were experiencing horrific episodes in our lives. They came and went, but she remained my friend through it all! She was Christ for me when I was down and sinking fast. She was Christ for me when I worried about my kids. Christ showed His love for me through her actions and her witness. I hope she knows how important she was and is in my spiritual walk and life. I am blessed beyond.
But, I forgot to tell her that. I should have told her. I should have been a better friend. I forgot to remind her of our loving and merciful God. That God is still that Mercy that we all so desperately need. I am counting on His Mercy. And He will be always loving and merciful to our now adult children. Even when they are out of our reach and we have no say, His eye is on them like the sparrow. I should remember that too!
As parents, we want to hold on to them and keep them safe from the cold brutal world that awaits them. We’ve seen it. So, we do know. They think that we had no life before they were born. Boy, oh boy we all did! And it’s none of their business.
Our children are genuinely good people, each and every one of them, to their very core. They are all different from one another and so individually awesome! God knows that. He was there helping us raise them. He was there when they were born. He was there when they first scraped their knees and cried. Again, my dear friend reminded me of these things when I thought my faith was shattered. When my heart was on the floor and I didn’t want to pick it up again. Christ sent my friend.
Whenever I feel broken, and far away from God. When the world around me is loud and meaningless, God is there in the quiet. It doesn’t even matter if I see, hear or feel His presence. He is there. I trust that He is with my children too. They do belong to Him after all. He loves them even more than I do.
It’s hard to imagine His divine love because we are just so human. So, we must continue to pray regardless of our feelings. Let us continue to pray. Pray, even when you’re angry, and especially when you’re sad. Pray during moments of doubt and always pray when you’re happy. Pray when you’re making difficult decisions. Pray unceasingly! Your words may fail you, but He hears your heart. He laughs with us. He inspires us through the Holy Spirit! He even hides in our tears.
Our adult children are all over the place. Different states and cities. My constant prayer is that one day all of my children will attend Mass with me and their father. One Easter, a few years back, I arrived at Mass a little late. By that I mean that I was actually on time. It being Easter, there were very few seats left when the church bells rang. I saw an open spot and so I went to sit down. Just then, this older gentlman signaled to me that these seats were taken as he beamed with joy. He said, “My kids…”. I nodded, knowing that he was waiting for his three kids! I was happy for him. He was smiling from ear to ear. Easter Mass began in all its glory! There were beautiful lilies all around! Everyone was in their Easter best. There were people standing in the back of the church. Easter is the biggest day of the Church year. After all He rose!!! During one hymn, I turned to look in on the nice man. He was failing at his attempt to hold back his tears. You could tell that he didn’t want people to see his emotion. But I couldn’t help but notice, because I began crying too. His seats were empty. He had his hopes up. His heart was broken and so was mine. They didn’t show up! Everything in me felt why he was crying. I felt his pain as if it were my own. I turned my head back around because I didn’t want him to know that I felt it too. I prayed for him and his kids and for me and my own kids, my friends’ kids, all of our kids! God! Sweet Jesus, I missed my kids being there with us at the Holy Mass!
When that good man returned from communion, as I was kneeling in prayer, he touched my shoulder with his trembling hand. I melted in tears. I knew God was there and He knew it all. I’m reminded that God hears all of our prayers, whether we feel heard or not. But I did feel the presence of Jesus and His love at that moment. He’s always answered my prayers. Always! Sometimes the answer was, “Not just yet”.
God’s love and His goodness are constant. He’ll always be there for our kids. Just like when our kids are not there with us at Mass, we continue to think of them in love. God thinks of us and them in love, mercifully and constantly. We can count on His mercy.
We should be more like my friend. She showed up in the name of Christ for me. I’ll never forget her kindness and counsel. We can be Christ for our friends or someone else in temporal and spiritual need. We can be Christ for our grown up children and their children. The best that we have to offer God is to be Christ for one another. Through Christ, my friend taught me that. Perhaps I’ll tell her now the things I forgot to say. Right after I pray. Thanks Be to God!
Title of painting is Dusk at the Beach by Kathy Hatch
Yes! And black democrats “suffer” Stockholm syndrome. It’s a wicked combination of social disorder.
Remember the Democrats were the slave owners. Not the Republicans! They were the captors. And as captors they did not want black children to learn to read. They wanted to keep black children from attending white schools. Remember George Wallace standing in front of a school adamantly refusing to allow black children go to that school in Alabama? He was a democrat. Democrats formed the KKK in order to intimidate blacks, control blacks etc. Black republicans in 1868 were killed at the hands of white racist democrats for simply trying to get more blacks to vote. That was the Opelousas Massacre where nearly 300 black republicans were slaughtered and killed by democrats to keep blacks in the South from voting. That was just the beginning of their diabolical episode in history. At that time there was a city ordinance banning black people from owning guns. That will never happen again.
Isn’t it very strange that blacks are so loyal to the Democratic Party? Well, when you read even just a little bit about Stockholm syndrome it’s very frightening. Stockholm syndrom occurs in a person or in this case a group that sympathizes with the captor in a hostage situation. They come to rely on their captor for their every need. They depend on their captor for their very existence, like food , water, oxygen. It is formed thru continuous stress and so the captive learns to cooperate in every way for survival. Survival is our first instinct.
Black democrats have a duplicate of disorders. Some people think that it is brainwashing as Herman Cain put it. I think he’s close. Why would any black person be so loyal to the very same group who has historicaly and habitually abused them? It’s like a beaten wife staying with her abusive husband. You want to tell her to get out! He’s hurting you! Yet she stays. She tells you that they love each other. And that he really cares about her. Every four years he drags her out in public, props her up and says “See, look what good care I take of her. I really love her!” Meanwhile her home has become a prison.
The other side of this craziness is Munchausen syndrome by proxy. This is the disorder of the Democratic Party. When a parent or in this case the Democratic Party, harms his or her child (everyone really, but black people here in particular), falsifies the childs medical history (textbook indoctrination in public schools), even tampers with medical records to create a source of attention and urgency by medical professionals. All of it based on the lies of the parent or the lies of the party. The child is not sick. Black people don’t need the Democratic Party. But they may even come to believe that they are sick because it has been drilled in to them by a parent/ party that they trust. The media is who blacks have trusted more than anyone. The media has failed. They lie to us everyday.
The media is ripe with these dysfunctions and disorders. Black millionairs like Sunny Hostin who are on the television daily worldwide would have us believe that the weight of the world is on black people constantly because of the color of their skin. The other day she said “I wake up with this skin everyday.” Ok she’s black. So am I. But, what does she mean by that? She’s on the ABC News Division TV. She probably got to work that day in a limousine. Her hair was professionally styled before she came on air. Her husband is a black doctor. Yet she is pushing the narrative that black people need the Democratic Party to do better in this world.
Black people are 13.4 percent of the population of the United States of America. If race relations were so bad, how did this country elect a black man twice for President? Why are thousands upon thousands of brown and black people climbing the fences to get here? You want to know why? Because this is the best country in the world and they know it! Think about it. At 13.4% black population, this country elected Obama. He was awful at his job but he got elected. That says something amazing about our country. I didn’t vote for him, but we did that twice as a country! We have yet to have a latino, asian, nor jewish president. They are all American too! So let’s keep it moving America! We are BLESSED! GOD BLESS AMERICA!
Looney liberals have been speaking for the black community for the last 50 years! Now, there has been a successful and more vocal explosion of black conservatives! We have been called names like coons, oreos, and uncle toms by our own and of course really woke white people.
KAT here! I’ve been on social media and other avenues of communication my entire life and for the most part I have held my tongue. Although some might dispute that. First off, let me introduce myself. I am a beautiful black woman, I am Catholic, I am Republican, conservative and even more so I am an artist! I’m quite humble too!
I find the current political atmosphere to be ridiculous and I feel that I must comment. I named my blog KAThysRight because I usually am. For some reason, I believe that if the world listened to me there would be world peace, no hunger and no violence. But after raising 4 children, I realize that’s an impossible goal. It is impossible because we are all human. And I really don’t think I could improve on what God has done. But God does allow critics/fools doesn’t he? I will touch on many subjects.
I would like to start with the subject of blacks remaining Democrat when the Democratic party has done nothing for us. And by that I mean, they started many “programs” designed as they say to help black people but in reality they have decimated the black family.
Fortunately for me, I was able to look past their diabolical plans. I can see the victorious future for our country! For every American in our country! I am 100% Pro Life! I really can’t stand when I hear, see or meet a Catholic who says “Yeah, but…” about abortion. That makes absolutely no sense and frankly it makes me ill.
I believe that our Constitution is the best example of how a country should be run that has ever existed on this planet. I believe in the Bible, the holy word of God! I believe that human beings are made in the image of God. Except for a few democrats I see on tv. I’m looking at them and trying to see Jesus in them somewhere, somehow. And I keep looking….and then I go….Naaaaah!
Well, I look forward to sharing my thoughts with you, stuff I observe. I think you’ll find them very entertaining to say the least. Welcome, because Kathy’s right.
This is an example post, originally published as part of Blogging University. Enroll in one of our ten programs, and start your blog right.
You’re going to publish a post today. Don’t worry about how your blog looks. Don’t worry if you haven’t given it a name yet, or you’re feeling overwhelmed. Just click the “New Post” button, and tell us why you’re here.
Why do this?
Because it gives new readers context. What are you about? Why should they read your blog?
Because it will help you focus you own ideas about your blog and what you’d like to do with it.
The post can be short or long, a personal intro to your life or a bloggy mission statement, a manifesto for the future or a simple outline of your the types of things you hope to publish.
To help you get started, here are a few questions:
Why are you blogging publicly, rather than keeping a personal journal?
What topics do you think you’ll write about?
Who would you love to connect with via your blog?
If you blog successfully throughout the next year, what would you hope to have accomplished?
You’re not locked into any of this; one of the wonderful things about blogs is how they constantly evolve as we learn, grow, and interact with one another — but it’s good to know where and why you started, and articulating your goals may just give you a few other post ideas.
Can’t think how to get started? Just write the first thing that pops into your head. Anne Lamott, author of a book on writing we love, says that you need to give yourself permission to write a “crappy first draft”. Anne makes a great point — just start writing, and worry about editing it later.
When you’re ready to publish, give your post three to five tags that describe your blog’s focus — writing, photography, fiction, parenting, food, cars, movies, sports, whatever. These tags will help others who care about your topics find you in the Reader. Make sure one of the tags is “zerotohero,” so other new bloggers can find you, too.