Oxygen

 

 

To paint a landscape is to engage in something greater than myself. It is a marvelous recognition of how small and powerless I am – when faced with the shifting light, the weather, the movement of the earth, the changing of the seasons. There is something so refreshing to feeling small on a big planet, in a great universe, held together by an even greater God. 

It is oxygen to the soul.

Transience

 

"It is Well"

7x9, oil on canvas 

There is nothing like the passing of a human life in effectively re-centering priorities. It is a beautiful time, yet much less productive time, at least in tangible things. Not as many checks next to the items on my to-do list. My thoughts have been less focused on painting, especially blogging. Days and evenings have been spent with people who need the company. There have been more phone calls, more focused attention on people, more time in prayer.

But for me, there is no such thing as a "work-life balance". My life informs my work. My work is often meditation on life.

This life is so transient. Painting the sunrise will teach you.... As will the passing of a loved one.

You can send cards on birthdays, sit through the family dinners be there in body, know a person in fact and miss knowing their soul. (I don't say this because I have regrets with Cathy's life. I don't have any. I say this because there are others in my world into which I don't currently invest heart and soul.)

You can take a thousand photos of the sun as its rays reach over the horizon and transform the morning into another world. You can know how to mix a deep sky blue or the color of a tree  in the shadows. You can paint one hundred paintings and say "that was fun". You can look at a scene and recognize that it is beautiful. You can do all these and miss knowing the One who spoke those things into existence. This world is nothing but a whisper of the glory of His character, a reflection of His beauty, a glimpse of His love and a fragment of His power.

Words do no justice. Nor does my paint and brush. But I feel as George Herbert when he wrote of his poetry:

Hearken unto a Verser, who may chance
Rhyme thee to good, and make a bait of pleasure.
A verse may find him, who a sermon flies,
And turn delight into a sacrifice.

I hope that with my brush I can in a small way "turn delight into a sacrifice" for my viewers as well.

Clyde Kilby's Resolution & the Super Moon

I first heard about Clyde Kilby through a John Piper sermon. He then posted Kilby's 10 resolutions for mental health on his blog. There is something so refreshing to feeling small on a great big planet, in a great big universe, held together by an even greater and bigger God. It is a gulp of oxygen to the soul.

Here is the Clyde Kilby quote I mentioned in my Gallery Talk on Thursday:

At least once every day I shall look steadily up at the sky and remember that I, a consciousness with a conscience, am on a planet traveling in space with wonderfully mysterious things above and about me.

 I spent Saturday night feeling this so deeply. The night sky and the sunrise are especially potent reminders.

Super Moon, 6x8, oil

It wasn't the night of the fullest moon appearance, still just stunning!

 

Nocturnes are tricky. Incredibly fun, but tricky. I was painting by the light of the porch lights, but far enough away to be able to see around the corner of the house. You never quite know what colors you are really mixing and applying. 

Starts with Why

 

Reflections of Indigo

6x8, oil

sold

I had a conversation with my cousin while on vacation about my art career that triggered me to thinking about why I paint. Why I paint in the style that I do, why I paint the subject matter that I do, why I want to sell my paintings, increase exposure of my work, take commissions, etc. Why do I do everything I do?

My cousin Bryan recommended a book by Simon Sinek called "Starts With Why". You have probably heard of him and his message. He gave a fantastic TEDtalk with the same title.

The premise of his argument in the talk was that people don't buy what you do, they buy why you do it.

I've always thought that I'm very clear on my Why. Because it's the same reason I do (or rather, want to do) everything in my life.

A couple days after talking with Bryan I read Psalm 27. Verse 4 is my Why.

"One thing have I desired of the LORD, that will I seek after; that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the LORD and to inquire in His temple." Psalm 27:4

My personal why is "to behold the beauty of God every day and be amazed by His person, character and majesty."

Now I am just like everyone else. I am distracted by the to-do list, the phone calls and text messages, the people who need things of me, health issues, family issues, peripheral goals and "putting out fires" as they call it. After my conversation with Bryan I started writing a little every day about my Why. I was shocked to see how often I unconsciously switched into "How" and "What" mode. It proved to me that I need to focus my mind more each day, beyond 20 minutes of reading my Bible, on my "Why" for existence. The how's and what's will come naturally when I am clear on my Why.

While Simon Sinek's why for having a Why is to have a more successful business/career/life, my why for having a Why is this: It it what I was made for. I was made to behold God's beauty. I was made to glorify God and enjoy Him forever (as states the Westminster Catechism). It is the very reason I exist. This reason was not chosen by me. It was woven into my soul by the One who brought me into existence in the first place.

I hate how easily I forget it. Those empty feelings, those feelings of dissatisfaction, those feelings of "if only ____ then everything will be right again" are really reminders from the Holy Spirit to return to my Why, my purpose. 

And this purpose, this Why, has everything to do with my artwork. If you don't mind, I'd like to write a little more about it and how it directs the How of my art-making and art selling in subsequent posts. Simon Sinek and my cousin Bryan were good reminders that this is something to be shared.