My portraits are good. I want to make my talent available to people. I can turn a photo into something very special. I pray that my "living" as a portrait artist, AND that I AM living (after aggressive, high risk breast cancer) will bring healing and light. I believe God puts something extra into my art, for certain people.
Back when I read my radiology report, the words "likely to die within two years" hit hard. They jarred something loose. "But, I always thought I'd try art... SOMEDAY" That desire voiced itself because I also had just thought, I have no "someday". Deep inside I had filed away my desire to create, under: "childish, impossible, impractical, and the really big one, you've been afraid to even take an art class!" I began a fight for my life, against the cancer in my body. Many other battles would later follow that one. Thoughts of art were put aside because of more important matters, just as those thoughts had always been forced aside.
When I was told I would soon die from cancer, I gradually descended into the "dark night of the soul". My theology was very polished & my faith "strong" when I began to fight cancer. I have a painting I named "Dying to Live". You can look into her eyes and she tells the story of surgery, chemo, 17 other drugs to prevent "death by treatment". "Dying to Live" is one of a pair. The other one is called "Every day is a gift". I did a whole series on the emotions of the battle with cancer.
I CAN paint emotions into paper. It is part of my genre. In various contexts, I tell the story of the battle with evil, cruelty, suffering, conflict. I did a show on the topic of domestic violence. I am considering painting about infertility and the unwanted & the aborted. My heart ached through years of an infertile marriage, and I feel the "ghosts" of the souls sent away. Even if it is denied, I hurt for the damage done to the hearts of the parents who made that fateful choice. We have all been touched in some way by this. Older children wait and hope for the adoption that never comes. Millions of couples wait for the infant that is never born.
When I paint confrontational or dark topics, there is always the paradox of the victory in struggle. Struggle is the only place victory grows. Sometimes one has to love deeply enough to bear the wrath of confronting hard issues. True healing has often come to me through enduring pain. Healing cancer is an obvious example. There are many "Silent Killers" (name of my most recently sold painting). Comfort can sometimes be the enemy embraced. Let me return to the story of the birth of my art. It was born in place of a child.
Theology had not given me real peace with all the kinds of pain, remorse and guilt I felt and saw. I was haunted by the questions, the UN-ANSWERABLE questions. I believed Jesus came back, after being dead for three days. I believed all the promises He made. I beleived confidently that there would be another place He had prepared for me, waiting, beyond the casket. He created me once, He can pull if off again, in another place & a very different reality. He had already given me the most important cure I would ever need, the spiritual one.
However, with the reality of earth as humans now know it, I could not come to terms. Cruelty, evil, suffering...so many personal "whys" about all the things that had not gone according to MY plans. I wrestled with God. I doubted His goodness. I considered other "paths". Then peace that I had never known before, wrapped itself around me, right there, in the middle of my bald, miserable, frightened state. COLOR and beauty became symbols for me. It started with the color of a rose. I began to sense His loving touch in color everywhere. Sometimes it is His whisper, other times it washes over me like a great and mighty sea and I weep tears of joy. I have come to trust that His ways are higher than mine. "Beauty for ashes" is my life banner.
This is why I think there is something unique about my art. I stepped into a watercolor class and painted half a face, while everyone around me painted flowers. That first painting sold in less than a week. It hangs in a living room with one other piece of artwork...an original Pino ($40,000 + a few thousand for shipping, his, not mine--not yet! Modest, aren't I?) My ability to paint came "out of no where". And "collectors" came out of no where. My whole art career is almost mystical.
God uses color to tell me how much He loves me, no matter how circumstances might appear. Color gave me peace that went beyond all understanding. God made a promise with the rainbow. Color may have even been the healing agent that beat my cancer. Color taught me to accept this world "as it is, not as I would have it".
Other events in my life have narrowed all my options. God left no room for me to doubt my calling into an art career. I can't go back to any "regular, dependable" job now. I have a broken back, neck and tailbone. I mentioned cancer was not my only battle. My body and mind were broken in more ways than I would want to describe here. My love and appreciation for color and God's art all around me, began to flow from the paintbrush in my hand. Art stepped in, filling all the gaps left in my life. I am very aware that color, well, the One behind it, is my provider.
I get around just fine, by the way. Fortunately I always had a high tolerance for pain. I look younger than I am. People frequently comment on what a happy person I am. I'm not bragging about me. I want to let you know about what God has done to me, or for me. This really is about HIM! I saw myself as unlovely, and my life as tragic. God reversed all of that. I hope you feel the connection to Him in my art. It is there.
Back when I read my radiology report, the words "likely to die within two years" hit hard. They jarred something loose. "But, I always thought I'd try art... SOMEDAY" That desire voiced itself because I also had just thought, I have no "someday". Deep inside I had filed away my desire to create, under: "childish, impossible, impractical, and the really big one, you've been afraid to even take an art class!" I began a fight for my life, against the cancer in my body. Many other battles would later follow that one. Thoughts of art were put aside because of more important matters, just as those thoughts had always been forced aside.
When I was told I would soon die from cancer, I gradually descended into the "dark night of the soul". My theology was very polished & my faith "strong" when I began to fight cancer. I have a painting I named "Dying to Live". You can look into her eyes and she tells the story of surgery, chemo, 17 other drugs to prevent "death by treatment". "Dying to Live" is one of a pair. The other one is called "Every day is a gift". I did a whole series on the emotions of the battle with cancer.
I CAN paint emotions into paper. It is part of my genre. In various contexts, I tell the story of the battle with evil, cruelty, suffering, conflict. I did a show on the topic of domestic violence. I am considering painting about infertility and the unwanted & the aborted. My heart ached through years of an infertile marriage, and I feel the "ghosts" of the souls sent away. Even if it is denied, I hurt for the damage done to the hearts of the parents who made that fateful choice. We have all been touched in some way by this. Older children wait and hope for the adoption that never comes. Millions of couples wait for the infant that is never born.
When I paint confrontational or dark topics, there is always the paradox of the victory in struggle. Struggle is the only place victory grows. Sometimes one has to love deeply enough to bear the wrath of confronting hard issues. True healing has often come to me through enduring pain. Healing cancer is an obvious example. There are many "Silent Killers" (name of my most recently sold painting). Comfort can sometimes be the enemy embraced. Let me return to the story of the birth of my art. It was born in place of a child.
Theology had not given me real peace with all the kinds of pain, remorse and guilt I felt and saw. I was haunted by the questions, the UN-ANSWERABLE questions. I believed Jesus came back, after being dead for three days. I believed all the promises He made. I beleived confidently that there would be another place He had prepared for me, waiting, beyond the casket. He created me once, He can pull if off again, in another place & a very different reality. He had already given me the most important cure I would ever need, the spiritual one.
However, with the reality of earth as humans now know it, I could not come to terms. Cruelty, evil, suffering...so many personal "whys" about all the things that had not gone according to MY plans. I wrestled with God. I doubted His goodness. I considered other "paths". Then peace that I had never known before, wrapped itself around me, right there, in the middle of my bald, miserable, frightened state. COLOR and beauty became symbols for me. It started with the color of a rose. I began to sense His loving touch in color everywhere. Sometimes it is His whisper, other times it washes over me like a great and mighty sea and I weep tears of joy. I have come to trust that His ways are higher than mine. "Beauty for ashes" is my life banner.
This is why I think there is something unique about my art. I stepped into a watercolor class and painted half a face, while everyone around me painted flowers. That first painting sold in less than a week. It hangs in a living room with one other piece of artwork...an original Pino ($40,000 + a few thousand for shipping, his, not mine--not yet! Modest, aren't I?) My ability to paint came "out of no where". And "collectors" came out of no where. My whole art career is almost mystical.
God uses color to tell me how much He loves me, no matter how circumstances might appear. Color gave me peace that went beyond all understanding. God made a promise with the rainbow. Color may have even been the healing agent that beat my cancer. Color taught me to accept this world "as it is, not as I would have it".
Other events in my life have narrowed all my options. God left no room for me to doubt my calling into an art career. I can't go back to any "regular, dependable" job now. I have a broken back, neck and tailbone. I mentioned cancer was not my only battle. My body and mind were broken in more ways than I would want to describe here. My love and appreciation for color and God's art all around me, began to flow from the paintbrush in my hand. Art stepped in, filling all the gaps left in my life. I am very aware that color, well, the One behind it, is my provider.
I get around just fine, by the way. Fortunately I always had a high tolerance for pain. I look younger than I am. People frequently comment on what a happy person I am. I'm not bragging about me. I want to let you know about what God has done to me, or for me. This really is about HIM! I saw myself as unlovely, and my life as tragic. God reversed all of that. I hope you feel the connection to Him in my art. It is there.
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