This is my newest series of paintings - still in progress. However, I'll put up what I have - I dislike putting paintings up on the web - it takes away from the tactile experience of the real thing. But here it is anyhow... I'll put them up in the order they have been finished.
Painting one:
Title: Forgiveness
Finished: summer 2009
This title comes from a Christa Wells song, "Weightless." She speaks of forgiveness as weightless, a concept that resonates with me. There are so many facets of my relationship to God - this one is pure joy, so ethereal that it lifts one right off the ground. There are moments of doubt, yes, but there are also moments of trust and love where absolutely nothing is hidden. Where the dark sin of humanity has melted away in the light of the Trinity. Directed by the Spirit, uplifted by Jesus, worshiping God. Weightless.
Painting one:
Title: Forgiveness
Finished: summer 2009
This title comes from a Christa Wells song, "Weightless." She speaks of forgiveness as weightless, a concept that resonates with me. There are so many facets of my relationship to God - this one is pure joy, so ethereal that it lifts one right off the ground. There are moments of doubt, yes, but there are also moments of trust and love where absolutely nothing is hidden. Where the dark sin of humanity has melted away in the light of the Trinity. Directed by the Spirit, uplifted by Jesus, worshiping God. Weightless.
Painting two:
Title: Life Costs So Much
Finished: August 22, 2009
Again, this title comes from a Christa Wells song. The meaning is not the same for me, but I really liked the words! This was going to be just a painting of a screaming woman, driven insane by the world. But then it turned into crowds of women, all different, but all desperately trying to look and act the same. They all wear masks, except for one. She has ripped off her mask, finally daring to step out of line. Crying, screaming to God to lift her up from the insanity of her world, away from the race to fit in, out of that terrible need to be perfect. One other person is breaking. Her mask is on, but she is in anguish. She hides her face, trying to control the pain. All those masks... some hide people, scared to be seen for who they are. Some hide monsters.
Title: Life Costs So Much
Finished: August 22, 2009
Again, this title comes from a Christa Wells song. The meaning is not the same for me, but I really liked the words! This was going to be just a painting of a screaming woman, driven insane by the world. But then it turned into crowds of women, all different, but all desperately trying to look and act the same. They all wear masks, except for one. She has ripped off her mask, finally daring to step out of line. Crying, screaming to God to lift her up from the insanity of her world, away from the race to fit in, out of that terrible need to be perfect. One other person is breaking. Her mask is on, but she is in anguish. She hides her face, trying to control the pain. All those masks... some hide people, scared to be seen for who they are. Some hide monsters.
Painting three:
Title: Do you know what I see?
Finished: October 26, 2009
This was supposed to be a painting of a mouth with a half smile. God had other ideas. At first I thought these were to be joyous eyes. Then they became something else. A commentary on how we all try to see through each other's eyes. And we cannot. We can never know what someone else thinks - we do not have the ability to have such a close relationship with another human. We weren't made for men - we were made for God. That intimate relationship - where all thoughts are one - is reserved for God and oneself alone. I can have shards of that relationship with my husband, since we are one with each other in God. But no one person can know how I view everything. And I will never know what you see.
Title: Do you know what I see?
Finished: October 26, 2009
This was supposed to be a painting of a mouth with a half smile. God had other ideas. At first I thought these were to be joyous eyes. Then they became something else. A commentary on how we all try to see through each other's eyes. And we cannot. We can never know what someone else thinks - we do not have the ability to have such a close relationship with another human. We weren't made for men - we were made for God. That intimate relationship - where all thoughts are one - is reserved for God and oneself alone. I can have shards of that relationship with my husband, since we are one with each other in God. But no one person can know how I view everything. And I will never know what you see.
Painting four:
Title: No more shades of grey
Finished: October 3, 2009
This was supposed to be in color - but when I tried to paint, I hit a mental block - God's pause. So I put it aside and painted "Do you know what I see?" instead. Then I was given the idea to make this painting black and white and voila! This is part of what giving up my will to God feels like. Sometimes it is beautiful, like "Forgiveness." Sometimes it is heartbreaking, terrifying to be revealed in God's light. The world is all shades of grey - full of rationalization, justification. Indistinct and jagged. I cannot see clearly, so I can make the world what I want it to be. But the world is not Reality. It is not Truth. Opening up to God rips a hole in my universe. Suddenly everything is black and white, sharp and painfully clear. I can always choose to melt back into the watercolor world of dreams... but I choose the brilliant ache for the sake of sane clarity.
Title: No more shades of grey
Finished: October 3, 2009
This was supposed to be in color - but when I tried to paint, I hit a mental block - God's pause. So I put it aside and painted "Do you know what I see?" instead. Then I was given the idea to make this painting black and white and voila! This is part of what giving up my will to God feels like. Sometimes it is beautiful, like "Forgiveness." Sometimes it is heartbreaking, terrifying to be revealed in God's light. The world is all shades of grey - full of rationalization, justification. Indistinct and jagged. I cannot see clearly, so I can make the world what I want it to be. But the world is not Reality. It is not Truth. Opening up to God rips a hole in my universe. Suddenly everything is black and white, sharp and painfully clear. I can always choose to melt back into the watercolor world of dreams... but I choose the brilliant ache for the sake of sane clarity.
