Skip to main content

Painting a Dream

Painting of a Dream
I have to admit that I have been putting off posting this painting, because I find it quote horrid to look at, but including this in my 29 days, keeps my ego from running the show, and  pays homage to an important moment: the first moment of painting where I ever experienced a deeper connection between art and its ability to bring new perception, insights and healing.

I was part of a group of women taking a class by my dear friend, writer, and artist, Julia Fehrenbacher. We were encouraged to paint a dream. Immediately I chose a nightmare from my childhood where in pitch-black, on the grounds of a large dark house, there were glimpses of large iron gates, and a heart-racing whole lot of violence and blood-shed pooling everywhere.

I began to paint some iron gates, blood, and darkness, but soon there was this tangible desire taking over my hand and brush, inspiring me to add swirls everywhere to the painting, actually beginning to hide the gate and to light up the night sky. I felt as if the swirls were whispering that they had been there too, permeating the dream, as a great love and holding. Even as I write this, it feels silly, but I cannot discount that in those moments of communing with the blank page and some kid's paint, that there was a streaming connection, and it brought a blanket of peace over a very dark remembrance of a nightmare. The peace remains to this day, the fear replaced by a reverberating curiosity of how something so simple as swirling paint could reconfigure a nightmare into a new dream, teeming with peace and light.

This is when I knew that art had a way of opening up new perception and even reaching back in time (and perhaps into the future) to create wholeness and interject a sense of okay-ness into experiences, dreams or otherwise. This transformation has stayed with me for years and is perhaps why I've made lasting space for art in my life. I experienced that the act of creating is much deeper than one would suppose. This direct experience of the transformation art can bring naturally and lastingly, has greatly influenced the malleability of my perceptions of existence, and how I feel I can learn about, interact with earth's inhabitants, and perceive happenings in a more positive light.

Comments

  1. I love the idea of the transforming power of a swirl. Gives a deeper meaning to the concept of spin. When I first glanced at this painting I saw roses. I think it is a beautiful painting. Thank you for sharing it and the story behind it!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thank you for this comment, Elizabeth. You make me glad that I shared it after all. Interesting about the concept of spin. Will ponder that. Thank you for being along on this journey!

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

♥ Thank you for taking the time connect with me here. ♥

Popular posts from this blog

RIP Poltergeist

After over ten years of an incredibly intense journey as a seeker, I find myself lying fallow. Taking a rest. When I first discovered this uncomfortable fact — threat to the hamster wheel that was my spiritual rat race, I surrendered for dead, but something wouldn’t let that fact sit as truth. I was lying fallow, but this implied that after a good rest, fruit could follow. This had nothing to do with death.

I am humbled at the courage it takes to write. For many years I kept a blog read by only a handful of very supportive people, and you’d think that after sharing writing for so long with perfect strangers, writing would have gotten easier. Actually, it got harder. In fact, at one point I was so paralyzed, I just stopped writing altogether. It was just too vulnerable. There was no trust there anymore, and I attributed any courage I had had to my youthful ignorance.

However, life continues, as it inevitably does, and there is still this pang to write, and it grows stronger and strong…

Adventure

Another painting I loved making. I had so much fun just layering paint and swirling about.

Adventure has been a big part of my world as of late. In fact, writing this after a long day of skiiing. Where I used to shy away from leaving the house, I've been doing the opposite. Finally really getting to know my beautiful state and bask in its beauty-- hiking to the top of many peaks--sometimes limping the last stretches back to the car. Took my girls camping on the beach without a 'man'  and was so proud when I got the campfire started multiple times. The girls had their doubts I could do it. It was nice to prove them wrong! My most favorite was the day I drove 5 hours to the closest passport office on a wing and a prayer to get a same-day passport (wing and a prayer because they tell you you can drive all that way, but that there is no guarantee they can/will help you) so I could accept an invitation to see the woman's soccer world cup, and within a week was in Vancouver…

Pillow Talk

Today I felt the familiar pangs of conversing with my body, it forever unyielding to my demands that it shape itself pretty now. That it chase itself back to its few glory days.

I tell my body that I would be ready to appreciate those days of yore now that I know what I missed while vying for the shapes and sizes of the other women around me.

Over and over my mind and I have run this particular proclamation to my body.

Then, we are good on our road, until the mind closes in and starts to overtake my strides.

You'll never make it there, you are too far gone, it taunts. It is too late.It isn't possible for you.

Then, so predictable--it attacks the most vulnerable part of me. The part I hide, keep covered, feel sure is my perfect disgrace: my belly.

The scale tipped in favor of shame today. Shame that I'd let the house of my being become so run down. That I'd let myself use food to comfort me, pick me up, enhance experience-- and that in the process I'd packed on the ext…