I’ve been using the photos I took from a recent trip to the Ciener Botanical Gardens, to create some little drawings/paintings. The crazy thing about tulips is the vast variety of them! Round and bowl-like, spiky and sharp, lots o’ petals, few petals, etc. This one caught my eye with it’s pointed petals and lovely color pattern…standing out amongst the crowd.
I’ve always felt like the phrase, “Dare to Be Different”, meant that I needed to go and change who I am, do things I wouldn’t normally do, etc. But this tulip made me think that the ultimate in “being different” is to simply be who you were made to be. Sometimes we expend so much energy trying to be what we are not! Certainly it’s good to try new things, to go on adventures, to be daring! But our “differentness” is actually found in being who we were made to be…whether that’s round and bowl-like, spiky and sharp, lots o’ petals or few……;)
May your day be one in which you “Dare to be Yourself!”
Many of you know that I love to walk. Prior to my illness and surgery, I walked several times a week, 3-5 miles in and around my neighborhood. The first day I was home from the hospital, the outdoors called to me. But I was only able to make it to the stop sign at the corner of our property.
But each day I would try to walk a bit further. Hunched over and shuffling, I just didn’t care how feeble I looked. I took my husband or a friend with me, and breathed in the fresh air, drank in the lingering spring, enjoying moving my legs.
The last two days, I have ventured up to Silver Dapple Lane. My favorite lane in the whole world. My neighbor and I have gone down and back twice. And today, I even made it three times! Progress indeed! The lane is lined with wildflowers, especially over in Mr. Whicker’s field. At the end of the lane is the best view ever! One of Mr. Whicker’s pastures for his cows is burgeoning with buttercups! It looks positively dreamy!
So I came home today and tried to capture that dreamy field on paper with watercolor. I don’t know that I got it exactly…but it’s enough to remind me of this morning…a gift to start my day.
I’m home! I have a long way to go recuperating from surgery, but I’m home and it is lovely to be here with my family and the comforts of home. There is a lot I could say about the last couple of months. But it is still forming in my mind and heart and feels too raw and dear to put out there in a blog. I have no idea whether I will ever write here about this experience, this lenten journey I’ve been on. In so many amazing ways, I was indeed led to a quiet place. Not one I would have chosen myself. And I do feel I am still on this path.
The beautiful thing about this path is that it has been strewn with flowers! And cards! The above watercolor I made prior to landing in the hospital. My husband, Randy, brought home a bunch of gorgeous flowers for me. I can remember during those hideous days of nearly 24/7 living in a bathroom, that the few moments I had to draw or paint were such a welcome diversion. Once in the hospital, where I stayed for three weeks, the flowers were lavishly sent…tulips, azaleas, dahlias, carnations, roses, mixed bouquets, etc. And the cards…wow, the cards! They are still coming! I love looking at and reading each one. The thoughts and sentiments behind each bouquet and each card overwhelm me, in a good way. The outpouring of concern and care has been staggering. Randy and I are so very grateful.
I only wish that I could’ve made a little painting of each and every bouquet. I do have some pen sketches in my writing journal that I made in the early days at the hospital when they were trying to arrest the Ulcerative Colitis by different medications, none of which my body seemed to respond to. The flowers kept coming in even after surgery and the second surgery. The beautiful azalea is now planted in our front yard, and I look forward to it blooming every year.
One of the things I long to hang onto from all of this, is a slower pace in life. To that end, I will not be blogging as often as I used to. I’m considering combining my three blogs into one, and continuing Letters to An Artist on an “as I can” basis. When you’re given a new lease on life, it is only natural to rethink how you’ve been living and make a few changes. I hope, dear reader, that you will continue to check in with me here on Drawn2Life. There is so much Beauty to share with you. And as always, I hope you’ll join me in looking for and creating a bit of beauty in your own life.
A grand THANK YOU to all of you who have sent healing thoughts, prayed for me, wished me well over the last month. I am truly grateful for each of you.
The most delightful part about commission work, is the people I meet through the process. Yes, I love the drawing and painting. Yes, I like the challenge of trying to climb inside someone else’s head to bring forth an image they might like. But the best part is meeting and getting to know the people who commission me.
In the fall, Nelie contacted me through a series of serendipitous online connections (to tell you the whole story would take a bit of time, but is the very best example of how connected we are via the internet). We met downtown Kernersville, at the Factory, to discuss what she would like.
She is getting married at the end of January 2013, to a wonderful man named Edwin, whose birthday was late in December. She wanted to surprise him with a painting of their new home in Raleigh, NC. Armed with only the realtors photo of this town home, there were certain things she hoped I could add and adjust. Truly I never know whether I am ABLE to do these alterations for folks, but I guess I’m crazy enough to give it a go. So I try.
We discussed size and medium choices along with the additions and adjustments. When she saw the finished painting, she said that it exceeded her expectations…and that is music to my heart. But the best of it all is the story about these two lovely people, near 60 years of age, who are embarking on a new life together.
You see, Nelie and Edwin grew up here in Kernersville, on the same downtown street, right next door to each other! Edwin is the youngest of four boys whose dad was a doctor in town for many years. With the exception of a few years that Nelie and her family moved and lived in SC, the two families grew up on the same pew at Main Street United Methodist Church. Nelie has two grown children, but Edwin never married. They lost touch with each other for 26 years or so.
Their wedding will take place at Main Street United Methodist Church followed by a reception at our brand new restaurant Giada’s. They are the delight of Kernersville. And I had the privilege of painting for them and of meeting Nelie.
A privilege I hold humbly and gratefully. I wish them both EVERY happiness!
I’m not certain I can articulate this well… But there’s something about drawing one’s life which transforms that life. It’s as if by drawing something about your day, your world, your city or town, your home, your yard…you are viewing it through a different lens or filter. This idea came to me afresh as I’ve drawn and painted on these very gray days we’ve been having.
Gray days make me think of England, and when I think of England, I think of tea. My girls and I had a little tea party, something I love to do when I have the chance.
Gray days also make me think of walks on the moors. Where I get this I’m not sure. Perhaps it’s my reading of Bronte works that shapes this thought. But I look out our windows on these gray winter mornings and it’s enchanting…the dark, misty blue, with inky black trees.
I’m aware that sometimes my thoughts precede my drawings. And other times, the drawings precede the thoughts. But it all works together to transform an otherwise dull gray day to something evocative, romantic, enchanting, or just whimsical. Am I merely living in a fantasy world in my head and in my sketchbooks? I don’t think so. I think this is a necessary element to living fully, to drinking the juice from each and every day we’re given. To take the ordinary, the gray, the not-so-desirable and transform it in some way to extraordinary, vibrant, and delightful has got to be part of our lives.
I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it here again: My pens are the straws through which I drink the juice of life. Won’t you join me this year in drinking deeply of your life…gray days and all!
**Afterword: Although this post was written and drawn a few days prior to my previous post, it occurs to me now that drawing has the ability to transform on many levels. It not only transforms your outlook, your view on life; it also can transform you, your thoughts, your questions, your frustrations. This is what my Drawing Your Life Mini Lessons are all about. As I work to get these in paper form, enjoy reading through them again. And I’d love to hear from you as you read them, how are they helpful, what do you glean from them? Thanks!
It can happen even at a swim meet. A dear friend of mine and I sat talking in between watching our kids swim their events. She, a musician and music educator. I, a visual artist and art educator. Our middle children swim on the same team. Our oldest children are in college learning to be music educators and singing with an incredible choir at their school, Wingate University. We spoke of the breathtaking music we had each heard recently at different events the University Singers were participating in. Each of us recounted how thrilling and enriching these musical events were to us. Sheri said:
“I sat there hearing the Messiah for the umpteenth time…and I had never heard it so beautifully played or sung. It was as if we were hearing what heaven must be like. As if heaven had come down to us sitting there in the auditorium. That was, for me, my Christmas. But I wish it was performed all through the year.”
We continued to discuss the wonders of how art and music, the lines and layers, the chords, the phrasing, the brushstrokes, all combine to give us this taste of the world beyond. Today, in light of our conversation, I’m thinking that we, the artists, are pulling down bits of deep heaven. Sometimes, it falls in big huge plops, other times it’s as light as mist.
However it comes to us, through music, through a painting, a drama or play, a book or an essay… deep heaven it is. C.S. Lewis used this phrase, Pulling Down Deep Heaven, to title one of his final chapters in That Hideous Strength, the third in his science fiction trilogy. It is a phrase pregnant with a meaning that comes out in many of his writings, both fictional and otherwise. This weightiness of glory (Lewis wrote a book titled The Weight of Glory) descends on us and both terrifies (as in the shepherds being sore afraid) and satisfies with wonder (as in those who worshiped Him at the manger).
It reminds me of another favorite author, Annie Dillard, who wrote:
It is madness to wear ladies’ straw hats and velvet hats to church; we should all be wearing crash helmets. Ushers should issue life preservers and signal flares; they should lash us to our pews. -Teaching A Stone to Talk
Dillard goes on to speak of a god who terrifies. Those who find Him in the manger know that though He is not tame, He IS good. Deep heaven brings with it a wildness that borders on dangerous, a beauty that aches, and an exquisiteness that fills and suffuses with joy!
When we are involved with any form of art making and sharing it with the world either in shows, or choral concerts, symphonies, theatrical productions, gallery openings, poetry readings and the like, ANY measure of this activity is a definitively spiritual endeavor. We are involved, no matter how small our part may seem, in ushering deep heaven down to us. Bless those who give their lives to this endeavor. Bless those who sing in the Messiah’s this holiday season. Bless our children who are studying to be musicians and teachers, artists, and actors, writers and playwrights.
Even in our swim meet conversation, with splashing and diving, screaming and hollering all around us, our glistening eyes told that a drop or two of heaven had come down in our words to each other. It can happen that way. In the most unassuming places as well as in the concert halls and galleries of our world, the tunes of heaven can be heard. In small sketches dashed off in a sketchbook, in the music played at coffee houses and malls, it’s there, raining down on us.
As this season unfolds before us, may we have eyes and ears to take it all in, to anticipate, and even participate, in bringing down deep heaven to our world.
*This is the first in a series. Others will be sprinkled throughout my postings from now ’til Christmas.
“How in the world do you do what you do?” This is an interesting question I get either verbalized or emailed to me. I’m always surprised at the question. I wonder what it is they perceive I’m doing or accomplishing, since USUALLY I’m thinking I can’t do anywhere near what I’d like to do or accomplish. Crazy isn’t it?
Typically my first thought is: I have no idea. In the past I have said, “I do it because it’s my sanity.” And that is true. I’ve also said, “I do it because I have to/need to.” And this too is true. I’ve also responded, “I do it because it’s so fun!” True too! But recently it has begun to form in my mind, the real “how” of all the creative stuff I love: drawing, painting, knitting, crocheting, designing, illustrating Genevieve, blogging, writing poetry every now and then, and the occasional collage. If this seems too self-oriented, then do just click away from this post. I only write it in hopes that it might encourage or inspire you in your creative endeavors! Here goes:
How do I do a creative life?
1. Look for Beauty. So honestly, this is the crux of the matter. Without something beautiful, I haven’t any reason to draw or paint, to knit or crochet, to write in prose or poetry. Sometimes I’m struck by a lovely thing without looking for it. Many times, I purposefully look for beauty in and around my little life. And on days when I’m hard-pressed to find anything of beauty, I search for it. It’s actually a discipline, this artist’s life…to scour your world for the Beauty you know is there even in unexpected places or places where we don’t think beauty could be found. Beauty can even be wrapped in painful or discouraging circumstances.
2. Find a way to express it. So for me, merely looking for, seeing, and noting a thing of beauty (whether it’s the inside of my dishwasher or the gorgeous fall trees in my neighborhood) is not enough. I must record, express, celebrate, honor, capture, harness it in some way. Most times, that way is drawing in a sketchbook. Or painting the faces and places in my life or in others’ lives. Other times it is writing. And yet others it is knitting something in the colors I’m seeing out my windows. There are many many other ways to express the little beauties in your life: photography, music, composition, dance, theater, etc.
3. Do what I can, with what I have, where I am. This is actually a quote by Theodore Roosevelt. It is incredibly helpful for someone like me who has more ideas I’d love to see come into being than I know what to do with. I can get really stuck in thinking: well, I CAN’T do X, Y, or Z (due to time or money or ability) so I just won’t do any of it at all. I camped out with this block for nearly two years a few years back. I was wanting to make it big-time as a professional artist, painting big paintings, being represented by a gallery or two, entering exhibits all over the region, etc. And when it seemed to be way out of my reach, I just stopped drawing and painting altogether. What ended up happening during this period, is that I picked up my needles and yarn and began knitting and crocheting like a fiend:). But one day, I literally ran into the book ISH, by Peter Reynolds, and realized that all I really wanted was to draw, no matter whether it became a professional thing or not. You can read more about that here. And you all know of my desire to travel to France, a longing to have a life that allowed for this kind of travel, (both in time and money), only to realize the amazing beauty of my own little town of Kernersville as I began to look for it and draw it!
We tell ourselves that we don’t have enough money for canvases or paints, when a cheap sketchbook and watercolors is sitting underneath a stack of books somewhere. We tell ourselves we have no time, while we sit in a car pick-up line for ten minutes and could sketch something or knit a few rows. We tell ourselves we are too tired at the end of a long day, when the very best restorative medicine is a swoosh of color on a page, or a few rows of crocheting that blanket.
4. Blast through resistance. I’ve been reading (and re-reading) a book by Steven Pressfield titled The War of Art. In it he defines what resistance is and how it keeps us from doing the thing(s) we are really longing to do and need to do. I highly recommend this book! I am continually learning all the myriad of things that resistance throws in my path to keep me from being creative. In some ways, this fight through resistance is very difficult! But in other ways it’s really simple: I put on my artist armor and hack through the underbrush of weedy resistance. I show up to the page, the yarn, the blog. Whatever it is, whatever it takes, for however long I have to give it (10 minutes or 2 hours) I SHOW UP.
5. Relish the FEW creative projects I have going. It is good discipline for me to limit how many creative balls I juggle. What has happened to me time and time again, is that when I have too many going on, my energies are splintered, my focus grows fuzzy, I feel overwhelmed to the point of paralysis, and I can’t seem to accomplish or finish anything. Boundaries are good. Limitations are actually an ASSET!! Disciplining the bouncy, creatively ADD, artist child within you is necessary to a slow-but-steady-progress kind of life. AND it actually allows me to RELISH what I’m doing NOW, being present in the lovely creative moment, instead of hurrying through it to get to the next thingS on my accomplish list.
Well, there it is. An answer to a question you may or may not have wondered. It has helped me to write it down. It’s a touchstone for me. A way to remember why and how it is I do what I do. Perhaps it will help you as well.
**Addendum: If any of you saw my recent Instagram photo, you would see that I’m not doing that well with #5! Oi! What’s a girl to do?!!
Put it on your calendar to come enjoy wine, hors d’oeuvres and music while browsing fine art & craft for your holiday shopping! Entrance cost is $10, and a portion of anything purchased goes to continuing the growth of our Ciener Botanical Gardens!
It has been a loooonnnngg time since I’ve done something like this and I’m soooo excited! I do hope to meet many of you at this lovely event! I will be featuring my drawings and paintings of downtown Kernersville, as well as offering Genevieve Cards and Prints.
This is a one evening event! Please come by and say hello!
For your invitation and ALL the details of this event, click below!
**Several of my works created on location at the Gardens and downtown Kernersville area will be displayed and offered for sale! The above drawing of Angel Trumpets was created while sitting at the Ciener Botanical Gardens drawing and enjoying the flowering purple basil next to it!
I’ve heard artists say things like, “I won’t paint today, the light isn’t good.” They prefer to have shadows cast under a brilliant sunny blue sky. I have always wanted to draw no matter the weather. No matter how gray. No matter the fog. No matter the chill. Fridays have been lovely to venture downtown and draw here in Kernersville. We had been camping out at the Ciener Botanical Gardens for several weeks. Blue skies or gray! Just last week, our cold fingers and toes chased us indoors! (more coming soon about our new indoor drawing locale downtown Kernersville!)
The thing I don’t get about artists who always need sunny days with strong shadows, is that these gray days seem to heighten the color around you. Artists know that a grayed background, or surrounding area, causes the main subject’s colors to sing! This was certainly true as I looked at the beautiful roadside profusion along the Gardens’ wall.
The only thing that gets a little interesting on foggy mist-laden days, is that watercolors don’t dry very quickly…or really at all. This one was swimming in color for a long time. I eventually put it in the back of my car to “dry” while I drew in another sketchbook.
It’s always good to have more than one sketchbook going when you’re out drawing. That way you don’t have to stop drawing to wait for paint to dry.
I sat across the street from the entrance to the Gardens to attempt this one. It was really too much to take in…all the gorgeous purples and magentas growing along the border. I often call colors “delicious”. These were positively scrumptious!
Once again, I am honored to have a piece of my artwork chosen (this one above) for this year’s Out of the Garden Project Honor Card!! Beginning very soon, folks will be able to receive a beautifully printed card with the above painting on it as a way of saying thank you for your donations throughout the Holiday Season. Click here for more information about this wonderful mission to provide meals for children and their families on the weekends throughout the school year. It is an EXTRAORDINARY work started by ordinary people.
Don and Kristy Milholin are ordinary people who, like myself, have a love for ordinary things. I suspect that they, like me, love to see Beauty happen in unexpected places…perhaps even in hopeless places. The above drawing, I created in my unassuming small town, in a place that is somewhat hidden from plain view. I did not travel to France to create this artwork. I did not go trekking in Nepal. Nor did I stand on the edge of the Grand Canyon. I sat down in little ole Kernersville, and put pen and paint to paper. Ordinary stuff.
I imagine Don and Kristy sitting down a few years ago on their back deck perhaps, and thinking they could provide some food for a few kids at a local school in Greensboro. A fairly ordinary thought: providing food for those who have difficulty getting it.
I think about Don and Kristy a lot. They don’t know this. But I thought about them in the spring, as my neighbors were planting their gardens. I thought about how a garden starts off with a good bit of enthusiasm, energy, and some resources. You have this plot of land, some seeds, a hose. You plow and dig, plant and stake. You water. And then…you wait. At first it seems like it doesn’t really take much, this gardening thing.
But along about mid-summer, your garden goes POOF! And all of a sudden there are more tomatoes and cucumbers than you know what to do with. The weeds are multiplying faster than you can deal with them. The ground can’t seem to get enough water. And you wonder how you’ll be able to bring in the harvest…there aren’t enough hands, resources, or time to do everything.
I’ve wondered if Don and Kristy feel this way when they look at how their ordinary desire to feed a few children and their families has mushroomed to cover over 40 schools in Guilford and Forsyth Counties, providing weekend meals for over 750 school children. Out of the Garden Project has surely POOFED. An extraordinary thing has happened in an ordinary place. Hope is brought to places where it is lacking. Food is provided for children whose families struggle to have this most basic of human needs.
The amazing thing about all of this, is that when ordinary people pool their ordinary resources, EXTRAORDINARY things can happen.
Your “ordinary resource” may be a bit of time to help sort food, bag it, deliver it. Maybe you have an ordinary talent or gift that can be given in some way. Or your “ordinary” may be $5, $10 or whatever. Don and Kristy want to thank you for your monetary donations by giving you an Honor Card for every $5.
Won’t you join me, in offering some of your ordinary resources, to accomplish something extraordinary this fall and throughout the holidays: Food and Hope for every child!
