I must admit, I was getting impatient. I have been feeling listless for several weeks. I would meditate and fall asleep. I would go to bed early and sleep late. I would go into the studio and stare at a blank canvas with an equally blank gaze. I would re-arrange the brushes and inspect them carefully only to put them back unused in their bin. Even though I checked all my acrylic inks and the soft body paints for drips and dried up paint, when I looked around I noticed that the studio was untidy yet my living quarters were nice and clean.
Lacking motivation to read, I slept. I was not depressed; my empty mind knew that this is how I needed to be at the moment. From a sort of hibernation I trusted that somehow I would eventually find my way into a more physically and mentally productive stage. The full yin mode prepared me for a shift that fittingly so, began on the first day of Spring.
The sun was shining brightly as I cautiously entered the studio and felt the change in consciousness. I looked down and saw light in my heart and began to quickly and randomly apply soft body cadmium yellow paint on to a square canvas with a slanted palette knife. Filled with joy, I scratched the thick paint to make deep marks on the surface. I did this literally and figuratively, like I finally broke through a stalemate.
Even though I soon ran out of steam and needed to rest again, I was unafraid to yield. Something was about to be born and all I had to do was to continue to show up and be willing to be genuinely surprised. Allowing was the key.
A beautiful pearl is born when the oyster quietly secretes pearlescent nacre as she tries to ward off a foreign substance. Allowing gives time for the foreign (the unknown) to become, make itself known and reveal the beauty of the process.
During the next session, violet and lavender drips moved about the canvas aided by air from a compressor. When the undulating deep purple shape appeared on the bottom, I realized that I had created a window into the new cycle of my life.
Contemplating the final painting and looking for the lessons it was teaching me, I saw that after a whirlwind period of painting, exhibiting, presentations, teaching and writing, I needed permission to really let go. Thus, I allowed myself to come apart and be dissembled so that the pieces could be reassembled into a new spiritually coherent form.
The drips were an important part of my learning. They represent my unwillingness to detach from a painful life situation. The images suggest that it is time for a thorough unraveling. Spirit guided me to see that the reedy formations crafted into branches were now bursting with luscious red berries. Basking in the light of a glorious sunrise the young trees are so rapidly growing that they blend into the dreamy sky.
This painting reminds me and anyone who beholds it that life does not have to be grasped, or sought as much as received. When we are willing to trust our heart’s guidance and hold the necessary time and space for the new to unfold, we allow life to surprise us with the sweet berries of gratefulness, delight and joy.
As I internalized the art’s gifts, I received even more. I was offered new and exciting art commissions, renewed a very old friendship and my family is hosting a party for my birthday. Last week, a friend hosted a surprise celebration for me. Former students publicly expressed their appreciation for how my teaching affected them, a faraway friend surprised me with plans to visit me in the fall and another one booked a visit for next Summer.
I could actually post a very long list of happy surprises, but I hope that you may want to purchase the painting and learn to allow Life to Surprise You! Click on the link to see the painting up close and buy it now.