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| My first painting in over 25 years. |
"Even here,
after all the years,
let's meet again,
in this place."
That is the silliest thing, Lord.
Come paint?!
This past week I spent money on very good watercolor brushes, good watercolor paper, but relatively inexpensive watercolor paints. Not sure of my logic in the paints, but they work...for now.
I also bought a watercolor book by someone who shows you how to watercolor. Pictures only show you the outcome of the author/artist. It does not show you how they hold their brush, how they load their brush with paint, apply it to the paper, strokes in creating what they want...all is well...it served my purpose. I got use to holding the brushes again, mixing water and paint, putting it to the paper, and regain the feel of the medium.
I worked for about an hour feeling rather shy, apprehensive, and afraid to commit to the next step. But when it came to the point where I needed to let the picture dry before continuing to the next and last step, I felt satisfied that I had something to show in spite of my apprehension.
You see, I loved to paint when I was a kid; late grade school and early high school. We did not have an art program in my high school so I was on my own. Probably a good thing because I may not have continued if I was in a place where I would compare myself to other's work. This I learned early: there are always others who can do it better. Even with that understanding, it baffles me how I became a perfectionist. Actually I do know. But it's neither here nor there at this point. (What does that saying mean?)
Several months ago, I had this whim cross my mind of wanting to watercolor again. I enjoy the fluid aspect of watercolors. Much of the time you have no control how the paints flow with each other or the direction they surge toward. (It's called wash-painting.) This appeals to me because I like the random, impromptu, and unexpected...when it's not a catastrophe, that is!
I dismissed the idea...until...I met with my friend and life coach, Mary. Out of the blue (I thought) she suggested I paint again. It so startled me. She had felt the insight prompted by the Lord. It was one of those God-stop moments. It warmed my heart. I loved His message as well as the way He delivered the message...through a friend that I love.
I put the message off for many weeks...until this week. And after I dabbled with the paints earlier this week, I had not gone back to the painting. In my silence with the Lord this morning, He did it again. Out of the blue, I felt these words, "
Come paint!"
So about two hours ago I went back to my painting. I looked at my picture, at the book, organized my brushes, refilled my water jars and began. This time I wasn't as tentative. I added a few things that were not in the book! I signed my name as I had projects in college. (By the way, my major in college was Art Education! To this day I am amazed that I took a leap and let my heart lead when I changed my major from Home Economics to Art. Who uses or even knows what Home Economics is these days except for those of us in the Baby-Boomer generation? Wise choice to follow my heart!) I sat looking at my picture. It was a stark picture. Rather desolate. Much like my pictures when I was young. The feelings of a young girl craving significance came rushing over me. And then I felt these words, "Even now, let's meet again, after all the years, in this place."
It wasn't the place that I painted in the picture. It was the place where I sat painting. It was the place where God was. I did not recognize it as a kid. As a kid, I only knew it as a place of solitude, escape, enjoyment, creating, solace, yearning, my world. I did not know HE was there. I didn't know. He waited. Today He called me back to this place to become re-acquainted again with solitude, escape, enjoyment, creating, solace, yearning, His world.
I have to say that the picture doesn't matter, it's the "coming to the place" and Who is waiting there.
