I think I got a little taste of how our Mother in Heaven feels. She loves us so much, and hates to see us struggle. Her love can transcend the distance between us, and if we stop to notice, we can feel it. I like to think that the beauty and the wonder in the world are our Heavenly Parents’ gifts to us, to ease our burdens and to make us smile.
]]>My daughter struggled horribly. Recovering from the emergency c-section, missing her baby, caring for her 16 month old son, dealing with postpartum depression, not to mention the culture shock. All without an established support system.
My heart broke for her. In a pre-COVID world, I would have been on the first flight out there. But I could do nothing for her but listen to her troubles, express my love, pray for her and send flowers to make her smile.
I think I got a little taste of how our Mother in Heaven feels. She loves us so much, and hates to see us struggle. Her love can transcend the distance between us, and if we stop to notice, we can feel it. I like to think that the beauty and the wonder in the world are our Heavenly Parents’ gifts to us, to ease our burdens and to make us smile.
I’m in Japan now, helping my daughter, waiting for baby to be released. So happy to be able to finally help, so eager to get my granddaughter home.
I was invited to be a part of the Certain Women Art Show that is held every two years, featuring women from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. The theme is Reflections on a Mother in Heaven. I titled my piece, "A Mother's Love," and I told this story.
Hosted by the Zion Art Society
Opening Reception
September 30, 2021 6:00p-9:00p
https://certainwomenartshow.com
Little things can remind us of the beauty of living. Remind us that it is a glorious thing to feel the sun warm on our face, feel the breeze ruffle our hair. It is great to be alive.
]]>Last Sunday, our family watched the new Disney Pixar movie that just came out, Soul. I loved it. It might be my favorite Disney movie right now. I won’t spoil the plot, but I’ll give you the takeaway: enjoy the little moments, for they are magic.
Little things can remind us of the beauty of living. Remind us that it is a glorious thing to feel the sun warm on our face, feel the breeze ruffle our hair. It is great to be alive.
When I started painting, I looked for inspiration to fuel me. I was reading “The Artist’s Way” by Julia Cameron and one of the prompts is to notice the things that make you feel alive. A few of my painting titles from that time: “Sun on my skin” “Sunshine on my shoulder” “Sun kissed.” Noticing a theme here? I love the sun.Thinking about it makes me marvel at the perfection and beauty of the star that we orbit, that gives us light. warmth, and energy. (In a very real sense! All forms of energy can be attributed to the sun, except Geothermal.) Then I get sidetracked thinking about how chloroform can turn light energy into chemical energy (fuel for body and billions of years later, fuel for cars.) The more I learn, the more I marvel.
Painting helps me capture the magic of the small miracles of life. It’s helped me be more open to noticing the little things. I am often inspired by other artists work. I make an effort to understand just what is it about a certain painting that draws me to it. The ways lines cross each other, the contrast between a dull color and a vibrant color. Sometimes it’s just the way a certain color makes me feel. I make note of them, and then try to incorporate them into my own work.
I’ve always naturally appreciated beauty in nature. Most of us do. Right now I’m enthralled by the way the sun casts shadows on the mountains, and how the view of something so ginormous changes so quickly depending on the angle you’re looking at it, and how close you are. I’ve probably taken hundreds of photos in the last week, but I digress…
(notice how the shadows make the snow appear blue!)
This habit of noticing little things, I don’t really know what to call it, has brought me great happiness and contentment. Art is my way of sharing that with others. It is the work of my heart, and I am lifted by it. My biggest wish is that it will lift someone else too.
]]>]]>"Painting went from therapy to something more for me. It’s a lifeline, and a love, and something I can lose myself in."
]]>I’m 43, have 4 kids and at one point, my whole family was taking anti-depressants. My kids have all had anxiety since they were small. We quickly found what a huge difference medication meant to their lives, from paralyzing anxiety to a more normal existence. But when they hit puberty, each of them hit a horrible depression. When I had to take my second son to the hospital (9th grade) for not being able to break out of an obsession with suicidal thoughts, I learned that my oldest had attempted suicide when she was his age, and had kept it secret. My son was hospitalized for a week, and that and my daughters confession was a trauma for our family, and definitely for me, but a healing/turning point for my son..When my oldest went to college, my third child hit a depression and started thinking about suicide. He was able to go to a day treatment program instead of needing hospitalization, but it brought up lots of bad memories from what happened with his older brother. I was very new with learning to paint, and I used it as a type of therapy for myself. I poured all of the bad feelings out onto the canvas in an ugly painting, and kept painting until I was able to tame the ugly chaos into something happier and pretty. Painting went from therapy to something more for me. It’s a lifeline, and a love, and something I can lose myself in..My second child was so open about his experiences with depression and treatment, and I saw the contrast from my secretive older daughter, and also saw how his experiences helped his peers grapple with their problems, that I am a big proponent of openness and talking about mental health to take away the stigma of counseling, medication and treatment.
Do you feel embarrassed for me? Don't be. I was so proud."
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Because, you see, it was an Olympic distance triathlon, and little (not so little) old unathletic me finished! 1.5 K swim, 40 K bike ride, and 10 K run. Last place was not embarrassing at all.
Some people would consider this a failure. Probably not most, but there are some. I'm an optimist, so I never think I fail, just succeed in an unappreciated way, or learn ways NOT to do something.
This attribute of mine is a big part of how I became an artist. And also how I keep on painting when things aren't working. It pulls me through my ruts, and I'm able to look at my ugly paintings as the start of something beautiful.
When I first started painting, I had no teaching, no art education, no skill, nothing but an appreciation of art, and years of knowing myself and what I liked. I knew how badly I sucked. But I could see glimmers of things I actually did like, and those kept me going.
When I did start painting things I liked, I was rejected by 10 times as many shows and exhibitions as I got accepted to. It was just evidence to me that I needed to apply for more things. Failure is really all in our viewpoint. That's not to say I never get discouraged. I do feel like a failure when I don't sell anything for months and months. But (so far) the selling droughts end eventually. Then I'll sell something and get the rush of satisfaction that someone values what I've created.
How do you react to things that others might consider failure? I'd love to hear your thoughts.
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I’ve been reading this book called “Creating the Impossible” by Michael Neill. It’s about creativity and how creative inspiration works, which is a subject I’ve been fascinated by recently. One of his big ideas was that you decide on a direction, and commit to it, things will always happen that will take you one step closer to it, if you are in tune with your inner self.
So, I was trying to come up with something I thought was impossible but that I wanted. I couldn’t do it! I don’t want a lot, really. I have all the stuff that I ever could want. I’m in a great situation with my family, and have lots of free time to pursue my passions. The things I do want, I want for my art career, but honestly, I think that’s all possible, given time, and I’ve got lots of that. His criteria for wanting something badly enough is that it makes you grin, giggle or gasp. I couldn’t find one. Until I was working on this painting, and I thought, I’m never going to be a phenomenal artist, I’ll always just be okay, or maybe good enough. And I decided that is what I want, my impossible goal.
So now to the painting. I’ve been working on this 48x48 incher for weeks. It started out pretty good. I liked the rough sketching in of the colors and the composition. I was using a lot of the shades of pink and red paired with the turquoise in some other paintings I was working on.
But it’s very rough. So I decided to try something I heard. Make all the dark shapes light, and all the light shapes dark, and then switch them back. Even if you have close to the same painting, it’s much more interesting for the history it’s gone through. So that happened. Ughhh…. (shudder)
So here’s the changeback:
its not really the same at all, and it really lost it’s fresh, spontaneous quality. So I kept going…
and going…..
And then I just went crazy on it, adding lines without too much thought, just caught up in the Flow.
And I got to here, which was good, but I felt something missing, something too much the same, too busy.
So I got a bunch of great advice from some artists I admire. When I finally put all the advice together that I thought applied, I got this. I think it’s a strong composition. I like it. It was exciting to me. And I went to sleep.
Or tried to. At midnight I had this sudden urge to go paint over it. I decided it’s too big to be that bold. I would never want it in my house, if I was being honest with myself.
I almost talked myself out of it: Oh, it’s “Good Enough.” And I remembered I didn’t want to be good enough, I wanted to be phenomenal.
So I hopped out of bed and went downstairs to my studio. I mixed up some paint, and I went to town. I painted fast. I barely thought. I reacted, and then reacted to that. I was so caught in the flow that I didn’t know how long I had been working. I added soft subtle colors, a little here, a little there, this color to balance out that color, then I started scrubbing the paint off the places where I wanted the colors underneath to peek through. And Voila!
When I woke up, I added some pencil marks, and just sat and stared at it. I’ve been staring at it for hours now, as I finish this with my laptop on my lap. I wish they all turned out this good.
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A big part of my art practice is listening deep within. I’m a religious person, but I won’t talk about religion here. I WILL talk about spirituality, because that applies to everyone’s view point. I also don’t paint religious paintings by any stretch of the imagination, but my very best pieces are born of spirituality.
There is a force in this life that guides us for good. Call it what you want, God, the universe, the Holy Ghost, the spirit. I try to align my life that I can hear it’s whisperings. It’s my own personal theory that getting into the flow, tapping into the creative force, being attuned with your soul, inspiration, “right brain mode,” even entering the theta brainwave state are all different ways of saying the same thing, connecting to the divine, what I call being one with the spirit.
When I paint, the spirit moves upon the waters of my soul and stirs its depths. I paint because I find parts of my soul I never knew I had.
It it is my hope that when you look at my paintings, you feel hope, peace, and a deeper connection to the spiritual. My love to you all!
Books to read if you’re interested in this:
“The Artist’s way: a spiritual path to higher creativity” by Julia Cameron
“Concerning the Spiritual in Art” by Wassily Kandinsky
Any other books that you'd recommend on this topic?
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