Day Four

February 21, 2015

Sometimes my excitement in creating can lead to pain. Sitting for hours, pen in hand, discovering the “spaces between,” has caused intense pain in my neck. Evidently these muscles are not used to being held in this way. My head feels heavier and heavier, my neck stiffening under the weight and my shoulders have tensed-up to compensate. I don’t want to stop drawing! The pain stabs and distracts me. Working through the pain is an option or pausing is another.

I reflect on this struggle as a part of my spiritual journey. My first thought was how nice it is to understand the source of this pain whereas emotional or spiritual pain can be difficult to understand. What exactly is causing the pain? Why am I afraid of this situation? Why do I react as I do? Why can’t I move forward in confidence?

Asking questions is the best I can do today. Sitting with the questions is a good source for more creative responses. Funny how that works!

Day Three

February 20, 2015

Prayer as the snow falls. . . .

“Creator God, in the stillness, in the soft embracing of each snow flake, I rest in your grace. As I thank you for the beauty outside, I open my heart to the stillness and listen for your whispering love. Amen.”

Day Two

February 19, 2015

In association with the North Carolina Museum of Art, the University of Mount Olive offered a lecture on the artist, Audubon. While I have been interested in birds for as long as I can remember, recently purchasing “Stokes Field Guide to Bird Songs” for myself and a dear friend, the lecture and a YouTube Video from the National Museum for Women in the Arts prompted an increased awareness and desire to truly “know” birds. The video introduced me to Maria Sibylla Merian, an artist from early 1700, who drew amazing images of plants, insects and birds. Both artists valued direct observation and did so amazingly.

While the meditation for today is abstracted, an important issue came to mind. As an artist I appreciate all types of art work, some more than others. Yet, for me, the act of closely observing anything is an important act of prayer. I believe we never truly see anything or anyone unless we engage deeply. Constant internalization creates a warped sense of the true nature of the world around us, of ourselves, and in turn, our responsibilities as a part of Creation.

One of the best ways to be so engaged is through drawing or painting. When I closely observe a person, I know the person far better and in a meaningful, spiritual way, as no other action on my part can afford me. Direct observation is a spiritual practice for me, as it is for many now and has been throughout history. Direct observation is a part of being still, sitting in the silence, and being fully present. What better way to celebrate creativity than to celebrate what has been created by the Great Creator and to create from that observation! This is exciting for me! It is life enriching!

I look forward to including some closely observed birds in my art work in the near future!

Here is the video I referenced as well as some information on Maria Sibylla Merian.

National Museum of Women in the Arts YouTube Video

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kXaln1MDGwg

Maria Sibylla Merian

http://nmwa.org/explore/artist-profiles/maria-sibylla-merian

Adding to Lent

February 18, 2015

I have decided to add to my life rather than take away, as a part of my spiritual practices during Lent. One of the things I am adding is to create a small ink and watercolor drawing each day and to reflect on why the work came to me. The drawings are not intended to be exhibition pieces but rather meditative, spiritual-practice responses.

The piece for today was inspired by the spaces created by overlapping bare limbs of winter trees. These spaced are sacred spaces. As I drew, there were questions regarding art, spirituality, religion, and life in general, all popping up, creating blurred lines of speculation.

Could it be that the lines should be blurred to allow for new insights? Maybe the lines are meant to become clear, with focused, life-directing clarity. Today I do not know. Yet, I can sit with the spaces and listen.