There’s something magical happening in my family right now. I’m a brand-new grandmother, and watching my daughter and son-in-law care so deeply about choosing the perfect name for their little girl has stirred something in me. It’s taken me on a journey back to the moment my own name was chosen, and forward to how that name has become something I now sign on paintings that live in homes across the world.
This blog post is a reflection on something so simple and yet so profound: our name. It’s the very first gift we’re given in this life. It’s the word that carries us through every introduction, every milestone, and for me, every canvas I touch. I hope my story helps you remember the beauty and meaning in your own.
The Origin of Rolinda: A Name Born From Love and Creativity
Growing up, I always knew that names mattered in my family. There’s a tradition, a hard-set rule, that all the girls’ names must begin with the letter R. When my mom was pregnant with me, she didn’t have a list of baby names or a name book on the nightstand. Instead, she happened to be flipping through a magazine and came across the name Melinda.
She loved it. But, rules are rules.
So she got creative. She took "Melinda" and transformed it into Rolinda. And that name stuck. It was unique, unexpected, and (though I didn’t know it at the time) a little prophetic.
I used to wonder about my name as a kid. It wasn't the kind you'd find on keychains or coffee mugs. But now I see it differently. Now, I see it as a gift. Something handcrafted just for me.
Becoming an Artist: The Identity Dilemma
Fast forward a few decades. I’m an artist, standing in front of my very first completed painting, and suddenly faced with an odd, almost silly problem: how do I sign this?
Should I use my first name? My full name? My initials? Should I go the way of icons like Madonna, Cher, Beyoncé? Or should I be more formal, like “Rolinda Stotts”?
I kept turning it over in my mind, and eventually, it hit me: Rolinda.
Just Rolinda. It felt right. It was simple, elegant, personal. It honored the name my parents gave me, and it felt like the most authentic expression of who I was as an artist.
That decision, though small on the surface, ended up meaning everything.
The Signature Struggle: More Than Just Ink
Of course, knowing what to sign is one thing. Figuring out how to sign it is another entirely.
I remember the early days so clearly. I was determined to sign my name with a paintbrush, not a pen. I wanted it to feel like part of the artwork itself. But painting your signature is a lot harder than it sounds. It’s not just about the letters; it’s about flow, pressure, rhythm. It took forever to get it right.
I practiced endlessly. Stroke after stroke. Letter after letter. I tried brush after brush until finally I found the one. The perfect paintbrush.
That paintbrush became sacred. I still keep it in a mason jar, and I guard it like a treasure. Because it’s not just a tool, it’s a symbol. A reminder of the effort, the intention, and the love I pour into each painting.
When "Rolinda" Becomes an Artwork
Here’s where the story takes a turn I never saw coming.
As my paintings began to find homes in galleries and private collections, something started to happen: I began hearing people say things like, “Oh, I can’t wait to get my own Rolinda,” or “I want to add another Rolinda to my collection.”
Wait…what?
They weren’t just referring to the painting. They were referring to me. My name had become shorthand for my artwork. For my style. My philosophy. My process. My soul.
It was surreal at first. But now? It’s one of the greatest honors of my life.
A Name, a Legacy, a Life
Isn’t it amazing how something as simple as a name can evolve into something so meaningful?
When my mom flipped through that magazine and tweaked a name to fit a family tradition, I doubt she knew she was naming an artist. I doubt she imagined that name would one day be spoken in galleries or hung on walls or written into exhibition catalogs.
But she gave me a name that could grow with me. A name that could hold both my past and my future. And now, as a grandmother, I see how that circle continues. A new name, a new life, a new story beginning.
Your Name Matters Too
This isn’t just my story. This is a story about all of us.
We all have a name. Whether it’s common or unique, traditional or invented, our name is the very first thing we’re given. It’s a thread that runs through our entire life. It’s how people know us, remember us, and sometimes celebrate us.
So I invite you to take a moment today and think about your name.
Where did it come from?
Who chose it?
What does it mean to you now?
If you can, thank the people who gave it to you. If not, honor them in your own way. And if your name has ever felt like a burden or a mystery, maybe this is the moment you reclaim it as your own.
A Final Reflection (And a Little Gratitude)
As I sit here writing this, I’m overwhelmed with gratitude. Gratitude for my family, for my creative journey, for the people who collect my art and refer to it as a “Rolinda.” Gratitude for my mom, who bent the rules just enough to create something new.
And gratitude for you, for being here, reading this, sharing in my story.
Whether you’re an artist yourself, a collector, a parent, a grandparent, or someone simply drawn to the beauty of names and stories, I hope this touched your heart.
If it did, I’d love to hear from you. Leave a comment below, or share this with someone whose name you love.
Let’s celebrate the stories we carry and the names we sign them with.
With love,
Rolinda