Seeing the light: the residual effects of childhood polio are no match for the determination of an inspired Natchez artist.

It is the light-- always the light-which compels her to lift the paintbrush, says Natchez artist Sharon Richardson. "Without it, there is no color."

Landscapes figure prominently in her canvas narratives, and often they are the same territorial settings used by another Mississippi artist, the writer Eudora Welty, in her novel The Robber Bridegroom. These are the forests and byways of southwestern Mississippi. Like Welty, Richardson has a keenly developed sensibility about place. "The roads and fields of southwest Mississippi--where I was born, where I spent much of my childhood, and where I now live--are especially meaningful to me," she says.

But the Woodville native's work is not parochial. "I don't paint subjects or particular places, I paint light," she says. To view a range of her paintings is to follow the light as not only seen in rural Mississippi, but in France, Italy, Greece, Spain, Germany, Canada, and the Yucatan, among others--vistas visited by Richardson in search of, yes, the light.

Obviously, these settings resonate in the consciousness of others, too, for in addition to corporate and personal private collections throughout the United States, Richardson's work is held by the Mississippi Museum of Art and the city of Jackson's Municipal Art Gallery.

In 2003, the Natchez Democrat voted Richardson one of the city's most inspiring citizens. This accolade was proffered not just because her work mirrors the place in which they live--not exactly. Citizens of Natchez have found inspiration in Richardson's personal struggles. In 2002, she was diagnosed with post-polio syndrome, a neurological illness, and despite its infirmities, she continues to paint--with her less dominant left hand.

"The day that I found I could paint with my left hand, I cried," Richardson told the Democrat.

When she was only two months old, Richardson contracted polio. She spent six weeks convalescing in a Vicksburg hospital. Her symptoms abated, and she recovered. And until the month following her 56th birthday, she had no hint of these symptoms.

According to the National Institute of Neurological Disorders and Stroke, post-polio syndrome (PPS) is a condition that affects polio survivors anywhere from 10 to 40 years after recovery from the first attack of the polio virus. PPS is characterized by a further weakening of muscles that were previously affected by the polio infection. It is estimated that more than 300,000 polio survivors in the United States may be at risk for PPS.

"In February 2002, I was diagnosed with PPS after losing the use of my right arm and having significant leg weakness," says Richardson. "I made numerous changes in my life and work and thought I had seen the worst of it. Then, in February 2003, I experienced more muscle weakness and pain that made talking, eating, and supporting my head difficult. I assumed these new problems were also part of PPS that I would have to learn to live with. Recent neurological tests indicate that this is not true, and there may possibly be a treatment," she says.

Richardson's days are passed in the atelier of a creamy white Victorian house with blue trim in Natchez, where she lives with her husband, Jim Barnett, a branch director with the Mississippi Department of Archives and History. Her two children are grown and have households of their own. Stained glass in five transoms were crafted by the late artist Martin White, her father; in the den, there is a painting by Violet White, her mother. In the music room, there is a drum set, a double bass, and a tuba--Jim is also all accomplished musician.

Arguably, Richardson and Barnett are members of the burgeoning arts renaissance in Natchez, America's oldest town on the Mississippi River. There are other painters, musicians, opera singers, craftsmen and writers living in the town, which also has the distinction of having the largest preserve of antebellum architecture in the United States.

Although born in Woodville, Richardson is, by blood, a daughter of Natchez. She is descended from the influential Barland family who were among the founders of the city in the 1700s.

In her twilight years, the infirmities of aging and illness frustrated Eudora Welty's writing efforts. Richardson, at age 58, is decades from her sunset years, but, she, too, has been frustrated by her limitations. Nevertheless, she perseveres. The wisdom in a fortune cookie--now taped to her easel-offers hope: "Don't let what you can't do get in the way of what you can do." Testing this theory, Richardson has discovered a practical formula to manage the PPS and sate her passion: "20 minutes."

"To work, l have developed a routine where I paint for 20 minutes and rest for 20 minutes. This allows me to work about three or four hours a day." And an unexpected benefit has accrued. "While I am resting, I critique my work and plan my next painting session."

Of her paintings, Richardson says, "Oils and pastels are the only media I've ever done serious work with. When traveling, I use pen and ink with watercolors for my journals. I do love pastels, but because of PPS, I am not able to use them anymore."

Believing in the fortune cookie dictum, Richardson has learned to paint fluidly with her left hand. This she considers a premium achievement. "The painting I associate with this is called 'Fishin' Boats,' whose setting is Rockport Harbor in Massachusetts."

The fortune cookie dictum continues, as does Richardson's determination to adapt her work to her unique situation. To make paintbrush handles more comfortable to hold, she increased their size--without adding weight--by encircling them with drinking straws bound with duct tape. To raise and lower her easel, she followed a neighbor's idea to install a power drill. Presto. With the press of a button, the canvas can be raised and lowered.

Presently, Richardson is working on four different canvases, all landscapes, simultaneously. "I feel confident that I can continue to make quality paintings, just fewer of them." Then, as a coda, she adds,

"Any subject can be beautiful when the light flows across it in a particular way."

Sharon Richardson's work is available through Brown's Fine Art gallery in Jackson, the Morris Gallery in Natchez, and others in New Orleans, Birmingham, and Seaside, Florida. For more information, see www.brownsfineart.com or www.morris-gallery.com.