The new year is always full of hope and promise. If we only look backward, we see what was unfulfilled and unfinished. When I sold insurance, I always had a calendar with my name and phone number printed on it, as a promise to my clients I would be there for them in the coming year. When I taught art, my lesson planner was a guide for the school term. I could plan assignments, each of which would build the skills necessary to complete later and more difficult art projects. Some things you can’t rush. Teaching a child to cut on a fold doesn’t come easy. First they have to handle scissors, then cut on a line, and then be sure to hold the fold in their non cutting hand. It’s not a nursery school achievement, but a five year old should handle it with practice.
Even grownup artists should always be pushing their talents out to the frontiers of the unknown. Of course, when we do this, we’re like golfers who deconstruct their golf swing. It can get ugly for a while, but we have to have faith in the process and the promise of the better outcome on the other side. If we’re chained to the approval of the crowd and need the affirmation of sales or positive critiques, we might take the easy path and continue our “style.”
I could tell I was on the verge of a transformational moment last year, but I was physically run down, suffering from a low grade sinus and bronchial infection. I blame part of it on my inability to accept the image of myself as a sick person, who needs to rest. Also, I don’t want to admit I’m not Wonder Woman, even if I want to maintain this delusion as a fantasy. The golden lasso of truth appeals to me: I should be able to use this on anyone, to know their inner truth. Instead, I depend on the gift of spiritual discernment, which only works efficiently if one stays bound to the God who sends the Spirit into our hearts and minds.
I can tell a real difference in works done when I’m sick and those done when I’m well. I labor over the brush strokes, I paint and repaint, and the results are staid and wooden. The dark evening clouds of my first painting this year belong to this group. This painting is most likely going to become one of the “woven works,” for it’s not satisfying my eye the longer I look at it. If it can’t last a month under my gaze, it’s definitely not ready for prime time.
About ten days later, I painted the rainbow clouds over the lake. The medicine and my willingness to rest finally have had a positive effect. A sense of joy and delight pervades this canvas. If I could give a rainbow sky to everyone, I think we’d all be much happier.
This little square painting is from an arial view of Hot Springs, at the Cornerstone Shopping Center. While it’s not an exact highway and street rendition, it does represent the green spaces near the roads and the mall. Since I do a lot of landscapes, I’m interested in the amount of green spaces our city has. Some people see these empty lots as potential sites for future real estate development, but Hot Springs can keep its health conscious reputation by conserving some of these green areas to keep our air clean.
I hope to stay well in the new year and to focus on my art more. If we are to “Love our neighbors as ourselves,” perhaps we need to truly learn to love ourselves more, so we can better love the neighbors and our neighborhoods.
Joy and Peace,