But the one I feel compelled to share is the later, the one that was birthed in one simple session; a session that would impact my life in so many ways, yet one that was not quite fully known at the time.
My son and I were invited, well, I think I actually invited myself, to paint for the day with a person, who in my eye's, was my "art god". I know he probably wouldn't want to be known as that, but his work made me fall in love with this new-to-me, wonderful style of mixed media. It was free, nothing immensely structured, but insanely beautiful and I so badly wanted to know how to create in this vane. This came at a time in my life that my gift of being an artist was trying to get out, like a little bird pecking at the shell from the inside. I just needed someone to be on the other side, saying it's ok to break out, I'll show you how.
I knew that what I saw of this artist's work,
was something I had to learn how to do.
This style really was, who I was.
That afternoon set me free, and opened up the door of the cage that was rusted shut. My teacher so patiently and joyfully showed me how to create in this simple yet complex way of expressing a beautiful idea, and it made my heart sing. Even though that rusted door really only opened a crack, I felt as if it had flown wide open, in my eyes and in my heart. I had been given wings to fly. I had such immense joy.
This teacher, this wonderful husband and father, this friend of mine, is facing some pretty challenging health issues. I write this blog in honor of him. And to those who read it, to please pray for him to be healed, and for abundant grace for his beautiful family of 5. I cannot tell you how very much his gift, that which he shared with me, has changed my life in so many deep and wonderful ways.
I owe him, if only this, to pray.
Thank you Chris.
This is the painting that came about that beautiful day up at The Farm,
one that shall never grace the walls of another, for it's worth
can never be replaced in what it did for me.
