art, part II

This renewal of art in my life has been pretty great overall. In the back of my mind this whole time, however, there's been something weighing on me. What I was best at all those year ago in school was drawing. Abstract art, which is all I've done so far, is something I'm really new at, so it's kind of an anything-goes type of thing. Drawing, on the other hand, took me a really long time to get halfway decent at, and I've literally been dreading trying it again, because I knew would be confronted the effects of my bad decisions and years of not practicing. The thought of it just made me sad.

I have been eyeing a pair of my favorite shoes for a couple of months now, and thinking, "Hmm, that might be pretty to draw." Then I would ignore that thought for a while, but it kept creeping back. "Fine," I said. So last week, I decided to make myself do it, because I need to keep moving forward, and it has been starting to become a roadblock for me creatively, and I am not about to give in to that whole nonsense again. I put on a worship album (Ghosts Upon the Earth, by Gungor), lit a pumpkin spice candle, and got to drawing. Here's what happened:
















I've never gotten choked up over anything I've done before (although I was pretty excited the first time I painted this year).  At a certain point when I was working on this, I just started getting all teary-eyed, when I realized it was starting to actually look like what I was drawing from.

Please know that I'm not trying to show off or say that it's the best drawing ever. I know it's not, I can see the flaws and things that I could have done better. For me, though, this is something huge. I would have been happy when I was done if it even slightly looked like anything recognizable, and it definitely exceeded my expectations as to the skill level I should be at right now. It's not everything, by any means, and I do know there are plenty of things I need to work on and practice, but this turned out so much better than I deserved, really. I'm not even sure how to communicate what I've been feeling, other than to say, I'm just overwhelmed, I feel incredibly blessed. I feel as though I have been given a second (or third, I guess) chance at this. I have felt this is an area of my life that has needed redemption for such a long time, and to finally get it back, then have it die again so suddenly, was just terrible. So to actually have another chance, to not be as far behind as I was expecting. . . there just aren't words. In my mind, this opens up so many possibilities as to what I might be able to do in the future.

I am in such a different place from when I was a kid. Back then art was just something I did as a natural part of my life. I didn't really understand the concept that God gives us gifts, and they are for His glory, and that they are to be shared. I just did it because I'd always been doing it and I liked to do it, and didn't realize what I was losing when I turned away from it. Just the fact that I've actually shown people the pieces I've been doing is huge, I was never open about art (or other creative things I did) as a kid, unless I was in class and had to show people. Even writing about it is big for me, I've been having a hard time writing these two posts because it's been such an important growth process for me, I've not been sure how to explain things sufficiently. Plus it's a whole new area of vulnerability, and I am not good at being vulnerable (but trying).

And I must say this: THANK YOU to my friends, my dear friends, who have been so very supportive and encouraging in this area of my life over the past months. You have been so gracious as to let me actually show you my pieces, and have given such kind words. If I did not have all of you, asking how things are going, asking repeatedly if I've been doing any work lately, challenging me to keep going, I may have quit at some point. Keep bugging me, please and thanks.

To have a whole piece of my heart come back to life is not a small thing, God has been doing such an amazing work in my heart to bring me to this point, and I am more than thankful, because I know without a doubt it would not have happened without His hand. I don't really know what this all means for me right now. I'm not sure yet how to integrate art back into my life; so far it's been an awkward, slow, and sometimes painful process. I don't know what God wants to do with it. But, finally, I am willing to pursue it, willing to open myself up to creativity, determined to keep going, and open to what He might want to do in the future. And honestly, even if it just ends up being something nice that I can do and enjoy once in a while, I am glad that God enjoys it along with me, and likes that I do it, created me to do it, and encourages me because He loves good things and loves when I do good things for Him, whether I have a big audience or not, because He is good.

So very good.

art, part I

Heyyyyy there.

Did you know that I used to be "into" art? I bet not.

I was, though. When I was in elementary school, I used to come home from school and watch drawing and painting shows on PBS. Sometimes I would have paper out and even draw along. As I got older, I expanded into watercolors and other mediums. I even tried random stuff like woodburning and sand art (and mercifully quit them). I was interested in other creative-type things, too, the occasional poem, perhaps, and later on music, but really, art was my main thing, and it is the only thing I can remember that I ever did consistently, year after year. I wanted to grow up and be an artist one day and planned on that for many, many years.

Sadly, at some point early on in high school I came to the conclusion that "art" was not a valid career, and would not make me "enough money," whatever that meant (yes, this was my actual attitude back then. No, I am not proud of this.). I decided that I would become a physicist, hopefully work for NASA one day, thus bringing in the big money. Just like that.

To be fair, I was having other issues at the time, too, like depression, that started to cloud my perception of my life, and made what art I was doing get darker and darker. I wasn't even bothering to ask God what He thought about things in high school. By the time I got to college, I had pretty much quit art altogether. I did take a photography class to meet a requirement, which I did enjoy. I did some creative-ish things, but nothing really hands-on, nothing like what I'd done back when I was younger. I wasn't really concerned about this, either, because all I remembered by the time I left college was those dark years of high school art, and who wanted to revisit that? Not I. I kept doing photography on a pretty minimal basis, hardly enough to even call it a hobby. That was about it.

Then about 3 years ago, the fall of 2008, I went through this crazy-good time of completely having God overhaul my insides, my soul, and all that darkness (that had persisted even past college) finally lifted. During this time, I went to a church conference in Toronto, and I had this vision of a picture in my head while I was there, and suddenly I wanted to paint it. I hadn't done anything like that in at least 8 years, I'd not even had any type of desire to do it. But I did, I went home and painted it. I was ecstatic, because it was this part of me that had completely died, and I knew God wanted to redeem it somehow. I painted a few more times, tentatively testing the waters, but getting more and more excited each time I finished something. I felt like I was getting a whole piece of myself back.

Then my dad died at the end of that year.

And some darkness came back, not nearly as much as before, but enough that I never thought I would be able to do art again, ever again. I never thought I'd get much more creative than a cute thank you note now and then. I had absolutely no desire to do it, one reason being that emotionally I knew if I tried I'd start connecting with all my grief, and I didn't want to go there.

It's taken a loooooong time to heal from that experience. I'm still healing in some ways, to be honest, but finally, earlier this year I was pushed by Holy Spirit to paint a picture. I'd been listening to a conference over the web by Jesus Culture, and was worshipping along, minding my own business, when I "heard" Him again. Just a little one, He said. Nothing intimidating. It didn't have to be good. Just try. Mind you, this came after months and months of me fighting this very thing, ignoring it, trying to push that voice away, even though I knew deep down I wanted to do it, that it was a vital part of myself that needed to be allowed to live again.

So I gave in, and I painted, and I made this one here. It's just a little guy, kind of an icebreaker.

Then, a few months later, I made another one, a collage.

Then, earlier this summer I painted another, this time for a friend.

With each piece I've done (even though each time I have to force myself past the "I don't want to/I'm afraid to!" feelings), I've gotten more excited, and it stirs up more and more creativity inside of me, not even just in art, but in other areas. And each time, it's gotten a little easier to begin.

(To be continued. . . )