Wishing to finally say good-bye

I am working on things. Not an art project, not a house project… But a heart project. (That is either no surprise for anyone who still reads this blog OR the bomb that scares people off and sends them running. Because no one likes to be handed a bleeding, rapidly beating heart and be asked to hold it and breathe life into it, constantly.) I have been working on this project for so, very long. It’s like something in me is contorted and twisted. I wish I could paint it out. I wish I could sing it out. If only I could get it out. There are these oozing, aching places… Longings… Deep un-met longings that no human on earth is going to heal… Or fill… or meet… ever. I want someone to heal it, to fill it, to seal it off; keeping me from feeling that ache that goes down to the core and leaves me feeling so, well, sad.

It dwells in my thoughts when I am alone. There is this isolation that seems to be a part of my life. Since childhood, I remember this feeling of loneliness. A feeling of wanting someone who just wants to see me grow into an amazing person.  An aching feeling of needing relationships with people who want to impart their wisdom and invest in me as a person.  And that loneliness, it just goes on and on. Even now, at 35 I find myself left with very few close friends who I don’t have enough contact with… And family, well, the word itself just hurts to say sometimes. And don’t get me wrong, my husband has been a God-send. He has made me stronger in so many ways. And he is my best friend. But getting quality time is so hard. Although, once we have it, it is a place where we feel at home in each other’s hearts.

So, now to get to the good stuff… I read a book called “A Million Miles in a Thousand Years” by a guy named Don Miller. It’s kind of a life changing book. He talks about how each of us has a story and it is up to us to write it out. The choices we make with our lives are ours to make. For instance, the sedentary couch potato is depressed because he has found no purpose. But a person who knows they have power over what is written in their story ends up writing themselves a good story. They also know that nothing on this earth will bring the euphoric peace that can only come in the next life, therefore freeing them of the burden of waiting for it to come along. And that allows them the freedom to make things happen as a collection of moments. Sometimes euphoric moments.

So, I have the keys in my hand so to speak… I am a big girl now and I know what cards I have been dealt.  I know that people aren’t going to come rushing to my side to heal this splintered heart. They aren’t going to encourage me and love me because I am so deserving of it, or even out of guilt. The ugly truth to this sad matter of the heart is that I have to make my life in to what I want it to be… Like any hard working person.  I need to dig deep and find the richness of what life truly is; and spread it around by opening my heart to others, by reaching to them with no expectations no matter how desperately I just want them to come pursuing me.  Our time here on this planet is ours… We decide most of what will come of us… And I am going to write a story of my life… A great story.  One where the relationships in it have quality.  I never wanted to lead my life in to this community I so desperately admire in others lives, I simply just wanted it to be built-in.  But THAT is not the story I was given… I was dealt a different hand.  So, I must live out what I want my story to become.  And one day I will look back and know that I had the power to make my life what I want it to be.

In Process

Life is an endless process of growth.  Growing physically, mentally, and emotionally.  Sometimes we grow backward.  Sometimes we have to get re-nurtured in order to grow-up more.  At least, that is the case with me.  I am on a constant journey of trying to figure out my life… Inside and out.  I seem to want wholeness all the time. “A creature of comfort” could be on my epitaph.  I am realizing, in my maturing mind, how often I seek this place of euphoric rest.  And I have been through stages of seeking this comfort with food, with friends, in my art, in time alone, in spa treatments, in time spent with my husband, in seeing my kids have fun, in controlling things that I feel are being done unjustly.

Side note: once I drove through a crowd gathering for a fight  in a Wendy’s parking lot.  I just wanted the pain, whoever’s pain it was going to be, to be stopped.  And me, in my Dodge Omni, felt invincible (yes, I see the sheer irony in that).  The crowd simply reformed after my attempt to be like Moses and part their sea.  My friend in the car convinced me I could not do anything to help the situation and really shouldn’t ever attempt doing that again.

But back to the comfort thing… Constantly, I try meeting the needs of this little girl who stuffed down her needs for so long…  Who felt that there was too much going on in her house with her siblings and parents to reach out for all she wanted… needed.  And so now, here I am in my thirties finally realizing that my crazy habits of seeking comfort are just to appease this deep down yearning.  The walls set up kept the hurt from happening and keeps anyone from getting too close.  Which leaves me lonely… a lot.  A bitter sense of being left to fend for myself in a tragic and unsafe world.

But now, now, I hear the voice, not just the echo.  I know it’s there loud and clear.  And now the light will shine on it.  And soon all that I poured into soothing me can be poured into others.  Someday, I will be healed.  Someday, I will pass along this goodness to someone who needs to hear it.  Someday, I will arise from the ashes and gaze around at my new world.  Because I survived… And overcame an engulfing storm that hid me in its depths… but didn’t win.

A Boat Painting

I finished a painting the other day.  It was months in the making… Well, sort of.  I had done most of it  in one sitting a while back, but then when I got to the boat I felt really intimidated.  Boats have a certain look.  They are shiny, detailed and at times textured… They breathe somehow.  Their weightless freedom exudes life.  A boat in water is a beckoning of choices.  The mind knows that a boat is detailed and purposeful.  With living things occupying it… most of the time anyway.  It knows that a boat often conjures up ideas of relaxation… freedom… indulgence or at the very leas, a peaceful existence somehow.  But the photo I was painting from locked me into a very strict palette of whites (blue-hued to grey-hued) to work with.  It seemed too technical, and so I froze.  I made excuses not to finish.  I said the paper was warped.  I said the picture was to small to work with. I decided I really didn’t know what a boat looked like to be able to relate enough information between my mind and hands.

But alas, it is finished.  The paper is still warped.  The boat is a bit abstract.  But it is a full-fledged painting.  And I am proud of it.  Astonishment hits me everytime I finish something striking.  I really couldn’t teach someone how to do it.  But it just flows out.  I guess that is why a unique ability is called a “gift”… Because its goodness is so unexpected even to the one who possesses it.

A Doll

Today I watched a little video on Etsy about a doll maker.  I watched it with my daughter.  She is four.  She is an independent creature with a knack for the arts.  Anyway, as we watched I mentioned how “there were many things I would like to create if I just had time.”  Well, she said, “Mom, let’s do it.  Let’s make a craft.  We can make dollies.”  Now, how am supposed to say no to that?  I mean, I had dishes and laundry to do and not to mention dinner to figure out.  So, I said, “Ok, go gather things to make dollies.  Like some stockings and ribbon.”  Well, she wasn’t too keen on gathering the materials alone.  After all, this was project we were going to do together.  So, I walked around the house with her and gathered some of the stuff needed and sat her at the table and told her to start stuffing the stocking.  I stole some time back at the sink to do some of those dishes and she called me back in saying she needed help.  I replied that the dishes were not going to wash themselves.  So, she said, “I can do them.  You make the doll.”  And with that she got a step stool from the bathroom and went to work.  I sat down and stuffed and sewed.  It felt good to be creating something.  She got done two or three dishes and came back thoroughly soaked in the front.  Then she said this, “That job is a bit too wet for me.  I’m back.”  So funny. I love that girl.  Anyway, she cut some fabric for a scarf, shoved in some  more stuffing, and made a necklace with a jewel from a chandelier that was lying in my sewing box. She put a sock on the doll’s head and then she decided it was time for a treat and ate some of the ginger bread house we made before Christmas.  I sweated it out and now we have a doll of sorts.  It was fun.  It needs work still, but I am excited to see its face once we paint it on there.

So, Capria learned a new word today… Inspiration.  And when it hits, it’s hard to say no to it.  :)

Oh the Places You Will Go!

Illustration for Submission

Today is my day… my birthday that is.   And a fine day to finally blog about something. There are many things I could write an entry on like my age… or my shifting time in life… or what I am learning about myself and the people around me. But I am going to write about something else: the biggest project of my life.  Literally.

A few weeks ago I saw this class listed in the Newark Arts Alliance Class program: Sept. 17-Oct. 1st, 3 Thursdays, 6-8pm plus additional time painting a mural outside on the weekends. Mural Workshop for Public Spaces /102 Taught by Terry Foreman. Ages 14 to adult. Learn how to develop a design concept into a finished drawing that can be presented to a client. Then adapt approved design to a working sketch that is transferred to an outdoor space. Group will collaborate on a single design that includes students individual components that look good together. Design will be painted on a outdoor public space in Newark. Additional painting time will be coordinated by the teacher during times/dates following the workshop depending on weather and students availability. Fee is based on classroom time only.

And now I am working on a mural for the town of Newark, DE. How cool is THAT?! I went to the class figuring there would be like 5-10 people in it. All of us coming in with ideas and eager to grow and learn. But it was just me and one other student the first week.  The second week we had to come with our ideas, better yet our “brainstorms” on themes. Well, I was the only one to show up that night.  And when I presented my idea the instructor loved it.  And thus, the idea for a mural was born.  It is growing and taking on life.  A new student showed up last week and is helping to sketch some of the items in the mural. Which is cool because she is working within my theme.

The place where the mural will be painted is at the Newark Train Station… On a buttress for the  896 bridge that reaches over the tracks… Where trains of people will go past it ALL THE TIME.  I am amazed.  One of my life’s dreams was to create a public work of art.  To have a chance to brighten someone’s day just because they walked past something I made.  And now it will happen. Granted I can only paint in the time I have available.  Leaving my “mural baby” at the mercy  of those who come to paint when I am not there.  But the seriously?  Who cares?  It’s still my idea.

There is still one major hurdle to jump over before the actual painting can begin.  The mayor of Newark needs to see a color sketch and approve of the idea.  He may have some opinions, not to mention some ideas of his own.  So in the long run my idea may change in some ways.  But either way this experience is awesome.  A mural!  ME?!  I am always amazed at what God has for me… Despite my complaining… Despite my choices to give in to being selfish.  He still looks after me…  He still loves me…  He still smiles at me because he knows I am nothing good without Him… and I will always come home to His open arms waiting to take me in and refresh my soul.

A Few Little Things…

Did a few little paintings.  Decided I should post them.  I think of them as mini fridge paintings.  They were fun and easy and, I think, nice to look at.

I am also in the process of a watercolor for my hubby.  It’s missing a huge part: the main sailboat.  But I feel stuck.  I am afraid that if I start it and it comes out wrong I will be so frustrated.  I love the water and the reflection so I am waiting for the same inspiration for the boat.  It will come.  I just have to wait to dive in and do it.

Original Encaustic Samples

With the help of my amazing husband, and my amazing MacBook, I finally posted my movie of my hot wax works made on my trip in Cali! It isn’t perfect, but it’s done. Watch it here: