Paper is my canvas; memory my palette. I hold lightly my pen and begin to ‘paint’. I start with blue. In long graceful strokes across the canvas, I capture her life, vibrant and full. The blue fades as it nears a horizontal center, merges, then deepens again, as if reflecting the atmosphere above. She is child, woman, wife, and mother. Her life is joy, love, beauty – these are inseparable from the artist, as impossible to distinguish as the point where sky ends and water begins on a distant blue horizon.
I stand outside and watch through latticed windowpanes as she approaches. I’m behind schedule, and she’s forgotten the gallery is not open today. I’m locked out. She hurries to the gallery door, smiling and mouthing a silent apology. Her golden curls bounce with her rapid steps. The door is unlocked, and I am met with a warm greeting. I’ve not met her before today and am slightly taken aback by her unique charm. You see, Hayley Shortridge-Gabriel glows. And it’s not the kind of luminescence one sees with the eye, but an inner light that seems to seep into everything around her. It’s as if all that is near her becomes more pleasant.
While we visit, it quickly becomes evident that Hayley is much more than her paintings we admire on the walls of the gallery. She’s an incredible individual, and it’s not what she says, but how she says it that is most impressive. We talk of childhood, of college and studying abroad. We talk of soccer, sunsets and life as a new parent, and there is a nearly tangible passion throughout the conversation. I recognize it is not merely a passion for art; it is a passion for life and living. Hayley loves life, and now that I recognize this, I also see it in her work.
By now, I’m not surprised when Hayley speaks so highly of her parents. “They’re really good people,” she says. “I feel fortunate to have such great parents. They taught me that I can do whatever I want, and to do the things that feed my soul.”
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As we continue our discussion, it’s clear that Hayley was raised by love, and that family is most important. As a new mother raising a baby girl of her own, she’s come to recognize that even more. Although the world may wonder, Hayley’s certainly not concerned about this new adventure hindering her creativity, nor are her parents.
“Some of that creativity,” her parents tell us, “is given to the arts of being a mother and wife. She is currently creating some of her best work in those areas of her life. The arts will always be a part of her life and reflect the beautiful person she is.”
As we discuss her work, Hayley is very open about the respect she has for her father’s talent. She explains that, unlike her father, who paints in oils, her medium is acrylics. “I kind of did that on purpose,” she says. “I wanted to create my own style. I didn’t want to emulate my Dad. He’s so good at what he does, that I’d just be a copycat anyway. I’ve got to be myself if I want to succeed. That’s just something my parents instilled in me. You shouldn’t be an imitation of someone else.”
And to her credit, there is nothing imitation about Hayley Shortridge-Gabriel. N
In the bottom corner, where the blue is brightest, I place my signature. It is not my name, nor my words. Those are too easily forgotten. This signature is meant to be remembered:
“It’s hard to imagine being any prouder than we are of you Hay. You’ve grown into a beautiful young woman, and we enjoy watching you create your life with your own family with such a sense of calm and peace and love about you. God bless you, baby.” ~ Steve & Cathy Shortridge
By Toby Reynolds
As Featured In: Summer/Fall 2015