Art in difficult times

The Covid-19 pandemic has challenged most of us, our jobs, our ideas, how we relate to each other and has produced fear. Fear of the unknown, the safety of our health and that of our families. Yet, it has exposed the tenacity and adaptability of some of us working from home, or just trying to stay busy as we wait for the new normal. Many of us, are using art to keep moving creatively and humming along at what our new normal has become. Creating art has a history of helping us heal during times of great transformation individually and collectively. When we create art we are co-creating with that which is unknown a kind of negotiation with what is to come. We are uncertain, but most days we play along anyways. Our art a type of alchemy that can turn our victimhood into empowerment.

Empowerment differs for everyone and the “we are all in this together,” becomes exposed displaying the inequalities that have always been. This stark inequality was witnessed while I was buying flowers at the local parking lot garden center. Immersed in the beauty of the colors, the blue sky with the anticipation of spring, clear incandescent music suddenly filled the parking lot. At first, thinking it was coming from someone’s phone, or pumped from the grocery store speakers, yet soon realized this was clearer than any mass produced music from a speaker. It was violin music, playing something familiar an Ed Sheeran song, the verse took form:

“Fighting against all odds
I know we’ll be alright this time
Darling, just hold my hand
Be my girl, I’ll be your man
I see my future in your eyes”

I was surprised to see my daughter suddenly appear from behind the rows of flowers, which limited my view as I stood in the middle of the parking lot. She said there was a man playing violin music, he had a wife and young children and was packing up, that he had a sign that read something to the effect of “money for rent and food”, my daughter gave him two dollars, and he said “God bless.” I was completely taken back now not only by the music but by the reality of what had just happened. The inequality right before us, the vulnerability of this man gifting us his music and asking for some help. When I turned beyond the rows of flowers, the man, his family, his beautiful music were all gone. In an instant, I felt the contrast of this man’s art filling the parking lot with sound that had feeling and meaning to a sudden hollowing out or emptiness. This music or art was negotiating with what was to come, the words “fighting against all odds” and “I know we’ll be alright” was this man’s hope, but it felt like everyone’s hope that afternoon, a hope for a better tomorrow and a knowing that everything will be alright.

Re-Membering with Art

Art is a shared experience that which is created from both the artists perspective and the viewers interpretation. That is the true beauty of art. Our ability to have a shared experience with that of the artist. Often, in art we can see our own experiences of love, loss, hope, change, vulnerability, when it has been manifested in art form. This can have a powerful effect for the artist creating and  the  viewer who is observing. This can stir up emotions that may have been repressed for both parties. This “release,” can transform an experience and have a “healing” effect. This Re-Membering, is bringing the pieces of ourselves back together as a whole.

When can art take a piece of our lives and record it for us to remember? The idea of “freezing,” time for a moment is what I find so exquisite in art. Art allows me as the artist to slow down, take a deep breath and capture a relationship with time. We are all having amazing moments with life whether we are conscience of it or not, and art for me can capture what I am experiencing in the moment. When I walk around my home and glance at my paintings, they become little recordings of who I was at that moment, what I was thinking, feeling, and experiencing captured in a painting. Part of my soul is in that painting, and the subject that I paint will often carry with it an essence or energy within it that reminds me of something I had reclaimed for myself. That healing or revealing is where my own true artistic expression resides.

Choosing Happiness!

“Some people chase happiness and some people choose happiness.” Robert Holden

Happiness can be an elusive thing.  I was recently painting with my daughter and found what I had been seeking for some time. I felt free for  a moment! Having the ability to put color and shape together completely unobstructed influenced how I painted that day. It shook something loose in me and I had an “Aha,” moment that I have not had in quite awhile. What was it in that moment that freed me up?

Chasing our dreams or choosing happiness is what can be so elusive. Just when you think you are closing in and have your life sketched out a certain way it changes again. That’s what I believe to make both the mystery in  art and life. In life we can feel trapped at times with our circumstances.  That is where living from a truly happy place can begin if we can carve out the precious moments for ourselves every day and art can create that  experience.

Chasing,  the water on paper, following the color, but not too closely. Allowing the strokes spontaneity.  Offering a little bit  of ourselves out with color and optimism so that we can learn more about who we are within. Our life not feeling like a paint by number but rather a life with the desire to continue the “search,” for ourselves and our happiness.

Happiness is always there for us in the moment we just need to shift our awareness so that we can choose to see it. Contentment in the present is where we can quietly observe what we are feeling on the inside.

Happiness for me on this day is sharing hot cocoa on a lazy  afternoon with my daughter , enjoying our art, and smiling and having fun along the way.

 

Live in Your Strength

“Live in your strength,” was what I read in my Yogi tea the morning of Nelson Mandela’s passing.  This made me think of how to live in my own strength. Mandela lived a life of  unwavering strength and authentic power. In fact, one of his favorite poems that he read in prison all of those years ended with “I am the master of my fate , I am captain of my soul” A soul-filled life that was able to find strength with all of those times of uncertainty. I like the idea of framing my day with the thought of living in my own strength.

What is our “best,” personal strength? Is it our connection to source, something greater than what appears on the outside? Is it our connection with who we are when we feel empowered and alive from within? I think that it is both. Our God given talents radiating out from within us and feeling comfortable in our own skin. How do we get to this place? There are the strength finder books that and exercises to get us there through thought. But, how can we get there through our senses? I think are is a sensory or tactile way of listening.  Listening develops intuition, and being still enough to hear this inspiration is unique to all of us.

For Mandela, all those years it was most likely reading that poem. Listening develops intuition, being in the moment, present and fully alive contributing to each moment. Whether it be in meditative thought, with a brush a pen or scribbling a way or thoughts on paper. Building strength is an investment. An investment in ourselves.

Because, there are plenty that will challenge and test this strength and it is up to protect it. It takes well-grounded ego to withstand the assaults from even the worst of critics most notably ourselves.  Finding strength when we feel lost weak  takes courage. Courage to find our strength and trust ourselves. “Faking it until we make it,” so to speak. There is beauty in our presence, so whether one has it all together or not, it is up to each of us to live in this personal strength. Strength that trusting in one’s own God given qualities will develop into something greater than what we see on the surface. Having loyalty to oneself, and to who we are to become in the process takes time.

For all of those years in prison, it obviously developed into a greater sense of self for Mandela. As he said “real or imagined,”  We all live in our own self-imposed prisons, of who we think we are and what we should be in this world. Instead of allowing the art in us to develop, we tend to cut it down to it’s roots. We do not allow the long process of becoming to be realized for us in all the little moments that make up our life. Just like a musical composition or an artist’s total production, we are all works in progress. It takes time for this change in us to develop into something that has deeper roots.

The Art of Letting Go

My daughter as of recent, has been attracting these small baby animals who need care shortly before they expire. The first was a baby bunny that had the imprint of a large bird in its side. She tended to it by carefully putting on plastic gloves and scooping it up to put in an old spinach box that she and my son lined with grasses and even a few baby carrots. She then, checked on it frequently, feeding it tiny drops of water from a medicine dropper. Unfortunately, the bunny soon died and she respectfully gave it a proper burial near the pond by our house.

This made me start thinking about what we tend to in our own life and then let go when the time is needed. Kids seem to have a better grasp on this process and I was amazed to see how this worked for them. The second baby animal to find its way to her was a bird. We were surprised by this considering it’s officially fall here in Minnesota! It did not look injured only stunned as if it was practicing its “take offs” from the nest.

She knew how to pick up this baby with a hand on top and hand below so that it would not hop out from her hands. I reminded her that it is best to leave it where we discovered it so that it could return home as needed. So we left with optimism, and returned to find that it did not make it either.  I started explaining why baby animals are lucky to make it a year and how hard they have to work to survive.  I was a bit worried about how she would handle it. But, just like the bunny we decided that its best to toss it back into the brush so that it can be recycled into the earth to repeat the cycle of death and rebirth.

The lesson of patience and caring for something with not knowing the outcome, is what I was reminded of with these experiences. Nurturing, caring, giving and letting go. I admired her confidence in the natural cycle and order to life that is hard not to want to control or resist out of change or fear. Fear, that if we bury what we hope for or treasure most that it will be lost forever. I like the idea of living this process of nurturing, caring and trusting that the universe will support our efforts but that a natural order is in charge.

Discovering the treasure of finding a baby bunny or a small bird is something we know as children. Feeling this connection to something greater than ourselves is something to try and reconnect to as much as possible.  Finding a treasure, tending to it for a short while and then giving it back.

Wisdom..Our messenger from the unknown

 

Owls are intereprted in many different ways. Many people fear the owl because they represent death. However, I like to think of them as messengers of what is unknown in our life. Just as the owl flies back and forth into the darkness. So, can we move from the physical world to the spiritual. The place where magic, mystery and ancient knowledge resides.

This week, I went on a nature hike with my daughter and watched how she  “watched.” Much like the owl, who takes in it’s surroundings she stayed focused on her task whether that be building a snowman or picking up a forgotten leaf from fall. Yet, she is keeping that balance of consistently “checking in” on the inside, examining with a inquisitive eye on what lies before her and looking within with silent wisdom.

This is what I search for in my art and in my walk through life. Being OK with the unknown yet knowing that I am gently being guided by the mystery of life and  finding meaning  along the way that leads me closer to who I am and where I am the most free.

Like the owl that flies overhead, wisdom allows me to sense what is felt but not seen. Or, what I know that which is true but cannot be proven with all out certainty..

A craft can help us to check in to this wisdom.  “Tinkering,” as they call it is not a waste of time but rather can be looked at as a way to find one’s quiet center. Give time for this wisdom that is yours and yours alone!

Back At It!

After almost 3 months of being too busy for art, I finally started painting again. Which I am not advocating but rather finding new ways of bringing it back into my life. However, Life is what happens. A new job, getting the kids ready for school, taking those last days of summer. It all can get in the way of our creative pursuits. Yet, what I often really need is taking a breath stepping back into the studio and start painting. That is just what I did today and boy did it feel good! I have had this large blank canvas in my art room for months, I then found the time to sketch out something that had inspired me (months before that). Today I decided with my four year old in tow to just get it out and put paint down. Putting the pause button on all the planning of how I expect the painting to be and to start painting. It made me think of all the times we often busy ourselves to oblivion and think that there is no time for us. For making marks on paper, starting that project that has been going round and round in our heads. It is never, the perfect time and there is always something else that can be done. However, our spirits cannot always be put on the back burner. It is important to make the time for ourselves. Our creative natures yearn for it.

My four year old had her own painting going while I had mine. However, mine soon became her interest and instead of redirecting her back to hers I let her help mom out! I have done this before but this time was different because of all the pre-planning that had happened in my mind with this particular piece. I knew there would be some mountains here, a sky there and maybe some brush in the foreground. I had it all planned out in my head until my four year old started making marks. There was no pre-planning in her marks. She put pink in the sky and yellow in the foreground and I cringed at first and then just let it be. We went with it, adding to the pink and using the yellow we somehow made it work. She ran out of steam and I proceeded. Letting the painting take shape, watching it change, and giving that time back to me. So, I am back at it. Painting once again.

Sharing a True Legacy..Honor, Passion and Purpose. Women’s Air Service Pilot (W.A.S.P.) Elizabeth Strohfus

Elizabeth “Liz” Strohfus ( formerly Betty Wall).  WWII W.A.S.P. (Women’s  Air Service Pilot)

When you meet a person of great bravery and character it is hard to forget.  Our paths crossed right in front of the waffle iron at the local hotel that my in-laws were staying at. A great big smile, a sparkle in her eyes is what I first took note of in this 92 year old American hero.

She was one of only 1074 Women Air Force Service Pilots ” or “W.A.S.P.S” as they were called. Strohfus taught instrument flying to male cadets and later ferried B-17 and AT-6 war birds around the country, according to the Minnesota Aviation Hall of Fame website. They were even put through drills that challenged their flying abilities and that men would later rely upon in real life combat situations.

The military disbanded the W.A.S.P. program in 1944, before the war ended, and sent the women home without veteran status. After the war “nobody wanted to hear about women pilots,” Strohfus said. They didn’t even know we existed. I had everything in my closet, my uniform, my pictures, my books. I told the kids, “when I die, put it in my coffin.”

However, she hasn’t put a lid on this story. Not in the least. Instead, she is keeping it alive at air shows, schools and even for my family during our waffle breakfast. As she should, because in telling her story she is honoring her legacy and the legacies of all the service men and women she served with.

She is sharing the importance of following one’s dream. Following a dream that seemed almost impossible for a young woman in the 1940s. She wanted to fly and serve her country. “I would have done anything to help the war effort, we all did,” said Strohfus.

Telling the story of a group of women who served right along with the men. A group of women who were humble, gracious and selfless. They had a passion for flying and were willing to fly to support the war effort. A story that is no longer forgotten but remembered and told by a woman with sparkly eyes and dangling aircraft earrings.

Strohfus recently was awarded the congressional medal of honor along with the two hundred surviving W.A.S.PS. Her humility was apparent Strohfus said she’s glad to finally receive recognition for her achievements. But then she paused and grinned and said, “The award is nice, but heck, I just like to fly airplanes.”

We should all pay homage to this woman. For her perseverance to follow her dreams despite all obstacles that may have been in her way and for what she did for our country, for our freedom. We should continue to share her story, pay it forward. keep it alive

Living Outside the Lines

When I was on my walk this week, I noticed the flower bed that we pass was still empty of any type of growth. But, just beyond its borders there were tiny crocuses peeking their heads among the grass. This was obviously not the intention of the retirement home who have been known to plant the artificial variety.

What came to mind is that nature does not fit into tiny boxes. Nor, does it flourish there. It takes up space where it knows it will be best nurtured and cared for. Fresh air, an open field, flourishing outside the lines of the status quo.

Being happy with who one is and where one is headed in life reminds me of the tiny crocus. For some of us it means forging a path that is off the beaten path. Or not our usual course of action. What this means for each of us is different yet important. Planning the design of our life takes a certain type of artistry. Drawing out the rough sketches, of where we want our life to take shape and grow. This takes the ability to reflect on what type of space that speaks to the heart. And to not be surprised with the fact that when we listen to our heart it often takes us beyond the well kept borders of where we thought we belonged.

The esteemed author Clarissa Pinkola Estes writes that “eccentricity is the first sign of giftedness.” Which to me means the little bits and pieces that makes us unique or “eccentric,” is the best place to live from. When we live beyond self-imposed borders we quickly learn that our gifts and talents that we came here with has a place or a design in the world. And that we add color and character and often complement those in our life who also are also working at embracing who they are.

There are artists that plan their composition carefully ahead of time and there are others that compose as they go. And there are some like myself that do a little bit of both. Doing a rough sketch helps me have a framework to start from. I have noticed that for some artists they can look at the world and paint it exactly how it is seen. Almost like a photograph it turns out as an exact replica of what they are painting. I am amazed and have great respect for  how this process works for them. But, for me I have learned that this does not work. I like working from the sketch as a framework than expanding beyond those borders to let it take me where it will. A different color here, new shape there. Having some traces of the original but also taking on a life of its own. This is where I feel at home, having a little bit of freedom and taking a big sigh of relief knowing that my life or work does not need to look like anything real to the outside world.

There is no right way of composing in life or art. I do not claim to be an expert in either. Rather, a faithful gardener who is constantly seeking new ways of framing my art and life in such a way that speaks to the heart.

Art Inspires Hope..

 

“Sunrise in the Mountains.” Oil on Canvas

How does art inspire hope? It often stretches apart of us that knows no restrictions but pure potential and unlimited possibilities. While I am working I often find this place in my art where it feels a bit wild, and I am not sure where it is all heading. I want to pull in the reigns, step back or throw in the towel all together. But, I am learning to let it be and come back to it in a while. Or, waiting to just jump in and allowing it take me in different directions.

Allowing it to be wild, or living from the edges often leads us to something new or not experienced. I am learning to live from this place. This place is called hope,  where new things happen because following the usual course of action leads us to the usual places in both art and life.

When I start out on a painting there is so much anticipation, of what I want it to be or where I would like it to go. This anticipation or energy that builds momentum and carries the painting is what I am learning to be comfortable with. This excitement or anticipation can quickly turn to anxiety if not allowed to run its course. Being ok with that energy or momentum is where hope lies. That hope fuels what we do and how we do it. But there is also fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of how it will all turn out.  The fear and hope are all mixed together. Maybe, the hope and fear originate from the same place and it is just our interpretation of it that defines it as either anticipation or dread.

I like the word “interpretation” because I think of art. I have been in many courses where as artists we interpret another’s work. One person may see pure potential or hope within a painting and another picks out all the little imperfections or mismarks.

Isn’t life this way? How we define what it is to us personally with all the unexpected mismarks that happen along the way. Our persistence to create in our life and leaning toward a little more towards hope than fear. This is how art can fuel us and give us life. Art can sustain this hope. It can provide us with greater meaning and help us practice how to live in a place of hope. Art can provide little nuggets of truth along the way or moments of clarity that show us where next to make our mark. Feeling the anticipation, not defining it solely as fear but as the momentum or energy needed to take us to a new place in our life.

In the painting above “Sunrise in the Mountains,” there were many times of not knowing where it would lead. I often paint from what inspires or provides hope. I found a photograph on the internet of an aerial shot of a sunrise in the clouds. I loved this perspective of seeing a sunrise from above the clouds. Seen from a completely different point of view. I work from literally from the edges and work my way across the canvas adding layers upon layers of paint. From the edges are where the magic happens and the image takes shape. What appeared was a golden mountain peeking out from the sunrise within ribbons of cascading clouds. The mountain can symbolize many things but to me it speaks of the grandeur that is within all of us. A beacon of hope leading us on our way.