Tuesday, August 27, 2013

Alive process

Lately I have been wanting to withdraw a bit. I don't want to admit to anyone that the fear of my love for painting is waning. I'm hoping its one of those dark spells again that surface every now and again. I have been through this so many times, yet each time it feels different. Each time I feel raw and exposed and want to hide away from all social media. But there are definitely some pros for social media. oh yes. The other day while I was thumbing through the newsfeed I saw this quote.
f you hear a voice within you say 'you cannot paint,' then by all means paint, and that voice will be silenced.Vincent Van Gogh

I have been hearing this same voice. I go to paint. I sit. I am disturbed and disgusted at what is coming out of the end of my brush.  I guess what I'm saying is that I always want this to be a joyful process. To be happy while I'm doing it. And yes, most of the time I am. Apparently, like the rest of life it doesn't always work this way. I have decided to see this as a gift. A sometimes wrenching process that must be this way to build within it's own character. This process is alive. This process is a voice that's sometimes weak. It's not always "sure of itself". It has a dynamic that artists' have been trying to wrap their brains around since the beginning of time. Who am I to say I've got it figured out? Who am I to say I ever will? All I can do is continue to paint. Continue to silence the dreadful voice. This process is an extension of my soul. Something I put into God's hands. 
God is the magician. We are the magic. 

my studio table with Works in progress at various stages

Him and the birds

I chat with my Creator through Stillness
Just me, Him, and the Birds

Tuesday, August 6, 2013

Divine Light

On my trip back from Port Townsend in June, my flight from Dallas to Little Rock was cancelled. There were no flights available until the next day at 6pm so I opted to rent a car and drive the 5.5 hours back home. At one point, I called my husband and told him I would probably stop in Texarkana, get a room and drive the remainder the next day. But as my trip went on, (playing 80's music really loud to keep me awake) I began to feel more energized. I decided to stop off and get a coffee and donut to get me through the rest of the 3 hours home. After I got back on the interstate, I saw a meteor. At first it was really bright. Too big and bright for just a "falling star". It turned blue. Then green. And soon disappeared as it got close to the ground off in the near distance. It all happened so quickly that I was a bit stunned at first. Did I really see what I think I saw? I had just written about a metaphorical meteor a few weeks back....here.

I have the power to release it with writing and painting. 
I can come here and send it out into the universe until it begins falling to the earth and is consumed by the atmosphere. 

Beautiful obliteration!
seeking somewhere to rest for a while, it's molecules break loose
the matter of its makeup all of a sudden make no sense.
the reality is no longer held together by turmoil and verbal abuse

This piece of writing proved to be such a healing turning point in my life. And here is this visual turquoise beautiful light coming out of nowhere. This gift. This sign. And it was just seen when I made the decision to make the drive home. 
I don't believe in coincidences. 
What I saw that night around 10:30 pm was no coincidence. I saw this beautiful sign only after little intricate details and decisions must have been met for me to witness its descent. 
This lining up of circumstances gave me pause. What we are doing in this creative journey matters. It heals. It catapults me into stratospheres I never expected. It holds me there and I feel renewed and comforted. This is why I write. This is why I paint. I must. It is what my Creator designed me to do. In His image. 

This is Divine Light.

original SOLD, prints available on request