As the days of 2022 dwindled down to three, I took an earlier painting titled “Faith and New Arisings” and covered it in primer.
I decided to break the painting fast I initiated eight months earlier (when “To Be Inhabited” was completed on Good Friday) by emptying out my supply of Golden Acrylics on the blank canvas.
The remaining bottles of color were limited and I needed to add water to stretch the flow.
It was experimental and without expectations. This is what I noticed:
In my painting sessions, I am visited—aware that I am an observer of creation and a participant with the Creator, helping it along.
Many messages are imparted as I toggle between states of surrender and control. They visualize in my mind and on the canvas. The hours can drag on or flash by as one part of me pushes to an illusory finish line and the other is overtaken, spilling color, washing it away, allowing it to dry—or not.
Mixing, testing, jumping in, losing my place, starting over, walking away, and befriending the latest “wrong turn” are all part of the process.
Gazing up close and from afar, moving with the light of the dropping sun.
Yes, as long as the brush is in my hand, I remain in process and am encouraged.
There’s a time when I stop the process, yet the transmission of the visitation continues.
I am spoken to, looked after, reminded, and refreshed for days after a session by a Presence that holds the past, present and future in vibrating molecules of matter and light.
To say this is a lonely experience is true and yet, this is just one side of the paradox that is an Artist’s life.
Painting sessions are as intimate as one can fathom and also more removed from social belonging than one might desire.
I notice that to try to “serve one master” does not remove my appetite for belonging to the world in conventional ways. Yet, the more I consent to give to God, the less capable I am of receiving consolation from anything else.
It’s true, I realize, that once over a certain threshold on this path, the desire for God leaves one with the understanding that nothing else will do.
This painting is meant to be read from right to left reflecting the movement into nothingness by letting go of cherished illusions on bended knee.