I painted my first rock when I lost my beloved Min-Pin, Sparky to a tragic accident. My grief from that event was right up there with losing both my parents and beloved mother-in-law. I originally painted a memorial rock for Sparky and was going to place it at the dog park we frequented. Dave didn't want me to place it there and, in hindsight, he was right. It has a perfect place in our backyard where our boy loved to lounge in the sunshine.
While painting my memorial rock, I painted a batch of stones (which I bought at the dollar store) with a simple heart. Some of the people reading this have one of those early beauties. I gave Lili a small bag full of them to distribute to friends and classmates in Mt. Shasta.
All of my grandkids have gotten on board with YaYa’s rock journey. I believe we all agree, a heart is a universal symbol of love. During those early days of my rock painting, I painted a heart because it was simple. After all, it was something I could draw from muscle memory. Each time I painted a heart, my intention was simple--love. This was a way to put love into someone else's path to find, and when they did, my hope was they would feel the love intended by simply recognizing a heart.
It became evident that painting rocks helped to heal my heart after I lost my best buddy. Everyone wants to talk about grief when you lose a human. But, grieving a pet is quite different. There are, after all, people who survive and thrive without a pet. I know them. I am just not one of them. This was the perfect grief therapy for me. But, it became so much more...
I took my first acrylic painting class four months after Sparky died. I wasn't prepared for what happened. Once I saw what I created on canvas, I couldn't STOP painting! Before I knew it, I was painting on rocks, canvas, garden gnomes and basically anything I could get my hands on. I took my activity further, not just painting rocks, but to placing rocks for others to find. I joined several rock groups and met lots of fun folks.
Which brings me to the story of this rock. I painted this rock at the end of a long day. I decided to try something new--something I had never done before. It was a dotting technique that I had seen on pictures of other rocks. It was something new to my skill set. This particular rock stayed in my studio for months because I wasn’t happy with the finished product. It was as though there was this evil inner voice telling me it was not good enough. Each time I would come to find a rock to leave somewhere, I would say to myself, “Not that one,” or “It's not my best work.”
Finally one day I grabbed this rock on my way out the door walking the dogs with Maddie. I dropped it on the creek walking path, kind of out the way. When you put a rock out for others to find, even if you mark the rock with an identifying hashtag, most people don't report their findings. That's just part of the game.
This rock was reported, however. The finder wrote that she had found this on a day when she really needed some love. In fact, she kept it with her for a while until she placed it for someone else to find. She said that she was so touched by the experience that she was going to paint rocks and place for others to find. How can an experience like that not change your life? By the way, I'm going to meet this finder of the heart rock next week.
I'm still on my journey of painting heart rocks and putting them out into the world for others to find. This one rock showed me that one small act of love and kindness can ripple out into this chaotic, random, and often cruel world to be a beacon of love to the finder. Although hearts are still my favorite thing to paint, I have moved on to painting affirmations, rainbows, Ninja Turtles, and ladybugs. But, this rock was where the real magic began.
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