Today brought the culmination of an extended search. I had been trying to locate one of my Painting instructors from New Orleans for several years with no luck, even on the internet. Though there were many reasons I wanted to find her, mainly I wished to thank her once again for the wonderful richness she brought into my life as my primary Art Instructor. Lorraine Shay was a dynamic, inspiring artist, gifted particularly in Abstract Expressionist painting. Her greatest gift, however, was her incredible teaching ability. She fostered an appreciation in each her students, not simply of Art, of different media, of our own talents and abilities, but especially an appreciation of our Selves. In the individual students she looked for that spark that set each apart from the other. Encouraging individuality, encouraging brilliance and enabling each to find it in herself, she was also compassionate and gentle when dealing with the foibles of each of us. She was also the only painter I ever knew who never felt competitive of me; and the only knowledgeable person about art who really understood my own gifts. That speaks volumes about her understanding of Who, she in fact, was. For me, she was a true Teacher in the deepest sense. I finally found her name at a Gallery in New Orleans, and tried to email--albeit unsuccessfully. Finally, today I called the gallery--only to find out that she had passed away two years ago. Although I had suspected that she had crossed over, to have my intuition confirmed brought a surge of shock. The gentleman I spoke with was very kind, and shared a few stories about her. Among other things, during the months before she died she had been painting in preparation for a showing. She had not told anyone but her family that she had cancer. About two months before that show, she passed away. And, I was told, that show represented some of her finest and most powerful work. That sounds very much like Mrs. Shay; she painted up to the end, finding her fulfillment and greatest spiritual depth in her sharing of God's Creative Spirit. As I said, I grieve for purely selfish reasons. I feel like a small, lost child this night. Of course, comfort will come; it always does, with time...and I sense about myself a reawakening of the painter who has slept for so long within. The only possible tribute to Lorraine Shay would be, once again, to paint.

With Love, to my Teacher still. (I know you are still here; I hear your giggle.)

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