It all starts with Spirit. Being a willing vessel and allowing co-creation to happen. A blank canvas, a colorful pallet and an open heart to experience what the universe is communicating.
Art has been my constant companion ever since I could hold a crayon. Expressing myself through art is my passion and calling.
I am the ninth of twelve children. Growing up in that environment, with many creative and artistic siblings, had its ups and downs. Even though being creative was encouraged on the whole, it was not acceptable as a career or life option. In our household, being a nurse or a teacher was an acceptable choice for a woman. Those were admirable careers. Being a clothing designer, or an actor, or an artist were not. Good girls didn’t associate with those people.
This was a problem for me. From a very young age I innately knew that I was a gifted artist. In my mind, that was what God wanted me to do with my life. To help and encourage others with my art. I wasn’t sure what form that would take, but I knew in my very soul that was what I was called to do.
Over the years, I have struggled with the right and wrong of the direction of my life. Doing art as a side line. Denial of my true self was a caustic agent for depression. I was not being fed or feeding others to the ability that I could.
I have always produced some kind of art, one of a kind costumes to hand painted quilts, stick figures, to greeting cards. But most was what could be called surface art. It didn’t feed my soul. It didn’t reach out and touch people inside.
I have been blessed to have a community that cares about my spiritual health. They know me enough to know that to truly come to terms with depression, I needed to use art as a step to heal. It was suggested that I bring my drawing supplies with me to service. To open myself up and be a vessel. Listen for a word, phrase or feeling and just start scribbling. Not to worry about what was happening on the page. Just feel. Just commune with Spirit and allow emotion to spill out and purge my soul. I was amazed at how freeing this was. So cathartic. To not have any responsibility. To not have to be perfect. What was even more astounding was what was emerging in my work. Recognizable images. Sometimes things I wouldn’t even see until I got home. Many contained faces. Many contained faces with no mouth. This mirrored my own belief that I had no voice, I was not being heard. My work resonated with many others in my congregation. Everyone who looked saw and felt something different. Some were drawn to it and others were uncomfortable. Others have been brought to tears, not knowing why.
I usually have no preconceived idea of what my finished product will look like. I am infused with Spirit and get lost in creation, time is no longer a constraint. Color and shape emerge and intuition and past knowledge take over. Abstraction is the usual result, although figurative work is becoming more and more present. The viewer often sees representation of something or someone important to them. It is a spiritual experience for many.
My hope has always been to touch the hearts of those who see my work: to bring peace, joy, comfort, whatever is needed in that persons inner being.