I miss the beautiful. The Catholic church knows how to do beautiful . Protestants, not so much. Catholics are great at pomp and ceremony and incense,, The Protestants seem to like no decoration .
This goes counter to my own taste . It seems to me that making the church beautiful is part of worship. We get dressed up for church.
And I wanted an art church to go to 10 minutes after I was converted. I will mention how that all went down in a later blog.
I think artists need to do some kind of sacred artwork to give back to the one who made them that way. Where do the ideas come from?? I sometimes look at a painting after its done and am pretty surprised that I painted it, shocked even.
Once I got to do a mural for behind the alter. That was intimidating but also thrilling at the same time. Why they entrusted me with that job, who knows, but the elders and pastor did. I came up with a plan and they all approved it. But in the middle of execution of said plan, the Holy Spirit sort of took over and I ended up with a radically different painting. They paid me in advance and here I show up with a different thing. However I told them what happened and they all agreed it was better than the original idea. I wish I had a picture of that big old thing, but I don’t.
Lesson for the future. Always document your work because you never know when you will need it.
It is impossible for artists to hide their insides. Any creative art will just spill out what is inside of your head and heart whether you try and hide it or not. It is like a red flag waving in the sun. Everyone can see it except you. My painting always felt outside of me. It is easier that way to be objective about your work so you won’t be vulnerable.
What a laugh. It was outside of me like a hole in the head.
Everyone has a valuable and unique experience .
This is just mine.
Art Therapy is a fantastic way to explore what you are actually thinking. Most people don’t do it , but artists can’t not do it. When you are young you don’t know this though. Its all about careers and talent and shows and identity in a more abstract way.
Hopefully when you are older , there is more reflection.
Mission Statement, looking at your reflection in a pool..
You don’t want to die without knowing your mission statement.
I am grateful for Ann Rae and her challenging mission statement question.She said that it is not what you think. Its not just describing your art. It’s more than that.
Sand gets into your shoes when you walk on the beach no matter what you do. The grains are as tiny as they can be. It is hard to imagine that once the grains of sand were a big rock. Rocks seem so stable and forever , but they turn into sand eventually. Sands of time.
It is hard to imagine timelessness. Eternity. It hurts to imagine it .
My Grandmother lived to be 101. She used to say “I worked so hard but that made me better. She had obstacles to overcome . She had a husband who refused to learn English when they came over from Hungary. Can you imagine how hard that must have been on her and the five kids. No, the kids did not learn Hungarian. But she did manage to create a little empire consisting of a huge garden ,five successful children, spectacular cook and sew and knit, handmade everything. She brought the alter flowers every Sunday to the Catholic Church. from her own garden. Florists bought flowers from her.She grew grapes and made wine and sold it. Same for eggs and clothes. Oh and she worked full time till she was pretty old. She worked in a cannery for 20 years then worked as head cook for a well known family .
I think about her more the older I get.
The rocks of stability I had in my life. All 4 grandparents were like this. Not a slacker in the bunch . Parents that were likewise . Stable Stable Stable. I was given so much.
Was I grateful as a 20 year old??? heck no. The walk in the desert continues.
I was watching a you tube video about being an artist by Ann Rae. She said that if you can put into words what you do and why, you will be able to communicate it better. How can people know what you are all about unless you can verbalize it.
Three months ago I started on this problem. The words are hardly easy to find. It makes me sick to my stomach to think about them . They keep flying away into a vapor before I can see them.
I decided to do a blog on the process of verbalizing why I paint paintings. The best place to find a deep place, a deep answer is the desert. Its quiet in the desert and hot and you have nowhere to hide.
So Lent starts today . Lent is is a desert . The desert makes you face things you don’t want to face. Being an artist and doing Lent is a good thing. . Ash Wednesday
Catholics wear ashes all day today to show they have entered the desert . Day one. The next forty days blog will be my ashes on my forehead .
I am grandmother to two children. They are the sunbeams of my life most of the time and the actual reason I started to write this blog.
My Grandmother and Grandfather left a huge impression on my life and fortunately I remembered this when I had my own. The one thing I wish I had from them though is a book on their thoughts and wisdom and feelings . What a gift that would have been.
So that is why I started this blog. When my gks are old enough to care all the things that are important that might help them for later on will be here. At least a wide assortment of ideas that maybe they can learn the easy way and not the hard way like I did.
It really saves so much time to listen instead of learn through pain. Pain is the most vivid teacher of wisdom but listening could be a little less dramatic.
What I mainly have learned is that life is over in a second so you better not waste a minute of it lolly gagging.