Why are some of us called to create? Isn’t art just frivolous? What’s the use of art? Artists don’t serve. We don’t heal or protect or provide. Why make art?
I was taking a walk with an artist friend in college the first time I asked that question. I would continue to ask myself the same one for the next 15 years.
Creative people are designed with unique awareness. I am an artist, a noticer. I am a looker and a listener, a thinker and a processor. I am aware of my surroundings and feelings, and I consider why I have them. I’ve had my eyes and ears and my heart open for the majority of my life, ready to be inspired. That openness allows me to see what some leave in the dark. Before the artist has even picked up her tool or instrument, she has already been chosen to see things differently. But, the vision isn’t for personal gain. This gift of sight is for the artist to use, so that others may see, too.
PERSPECTIVE; the art of noticing.
Early this summer I began to notice hawks everywhere I looked. I swear! Hawks. Every time I looked up and sometimes straight ahead of me. They were coming up close to perch and flying lower and nearer than I had ever seen before. It scared me a little at first. Even if someone was with me, they never saw the birds before they had flown off. Once Robert and I were riding bikes and a massive brown bird flew from a tree just above his shoulder. I noticed it, but my husband, a wildlife guy, did not see it even though he was closer and much more attuned to wild animals. That’s when I got curious. Each time I saw a hawk, I was quiet and observed. I read and learned about hawks and what they represent spiritually. It was startling to learn that the hawk strongly represents something I often consider; perspective. So, then I took what I learned about the hawk, and I used it to draw and paint, to create and to share. I’ve been working with this material for several weeks. Since I began exploring the hawk through my work, I have not seen one hawk. Not one.
Six months ago my world was wildly spinning past me, and now it’s a slower sight. It turns slow enough that I catch a glimpse of things l hadn’t noticed when it was whizzing by, like hawks coming closer. Slow enough that I have been able to read, work in my yard, have picnics with my children, cook, bake, write, and, of course, paint. I keep checking my calendar, though, because I’m certain I am forgetting something.
When the world turned upside down this spring, I made some changes to my work life to slow the spinning before all the parts flung off. But, somehow it surprises me that the changes were effective. I feel funny not spinning. It’s a good funny. Relieving for sure. Turns out, it was that simple to slow the eff down. Me-n-my business are a living and thriving proof it can be done. I stepped out of the spinning and realized I was dizzy from trying to focus on too many things A change in perspective let me see it for myself.
INTUITION; the art of hearing the heart
Intuition is my jam! I am a conceptual artist; an abstract expressionist. I create through intuition, therefore, I have to stay close to it. When I paint, I am connected to something I can only describe and understand to be God. I believe that He speaks to me as I paint, but I don’t hear His voice with my ears, it’s a sound in my heart. I think He finds me painting because that’s what He sent me here to do. I even believe He creates tricky situations in my life to protect me from loud distractions. He shows up with challenges for all of us in ways we can’t understand, but deep under the suffering, there is buried purpose. We have to be looking for it, though, and sometimes it’s hard as hell to see. God keeps me painting so that I can feel around in the dark. Intuition guides me to what I may miss otherwise.
Artistic talent is often called a gift, but the truth is, it’s more like a tool. You see, the job of an artist is to use this intuition, this clarity of heart. We have to use the light like a lantern. It is not only for the artist’s benefit. The talent comes to one but, it is intended to be shared with many. Here lies the importance of trusting intuition and creating art from that deep, honest place. This is where a cycle begins turning. When one creative impulse inspires another; when one flame lights the next.
INSPIRATION; passing the light
While artists are inspired, they are also here to inspire. Artists are very good at seeing, but they also help you to see, encourage you to look. The artist inspires you to recognize what may otherwise go unnoticed.
My art is inspired by other artists; musicians, writers, painters….
I always listen to music as I paint. I like singer/songwriters who create music from the ground up. The grittier the better. I want to hear heart. Lyrics lead my thoughts as I paint like a beaten path leads through a massive forrest. The light of music guides my wandering mind and lets me hear things I may have missed otherwise.
I am inspired by writers. The way words can be arranged to sooth and flirt with your perspective. Words can be put together in such a way that you see and hear ordinary, unpleasant things in a warm and comfy light.
Earlier this year I read The Alchemist. I couldn’t wait to live my life with the perspective I had gained from this book. The spirit this timeless story carries elevated me through this spring. That perspective inspired me to look at the challenge at hand as another step down my path. Each test is another opportunity to get closer to the light.
“My heart is afraid that it will have to suffer,” the boy told the alchemist one night as they looked up at the moonless sky.
“Tell your heart that the fear of suffering is worse than the suffering itself. And that no heart has ever suffered when it goes in search of its dreams, because every second of the search is a second’s encounter with God and with eternity.”
- Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist
I am now reading Untamed by Glennon Doyle. I had to put it down after a chapter called “Know”. I put it down because I was stunned and giddy with inspiration. I needed to explore something that had been swimming around in my deep, quiet intuition.
Her words let me know that other people experience what I tap into as I paint, but they get to it differently. She taught herself to find “the knowing” by sitting quietly in her closet where she was still enough to hear and feel. She describes dropping within herself into a deep “silent chamber” where she discovers “liquid gold”.
“What I have learned (even though I am afraid to say it) is that God lives in this deepness inside me. When I recognize God’s presence and guidance, God celebrates by flooding me with warm liquid gold.”
-Glennon Doyle, Untamed
In my words, I have described that same deep understanding as intuition; the light. Her analogy of warmth is what connected me to the sensation. I know that warmth. It is a feeling of awareness; an understanding of yourself in the big picture; it’s purpose. And, it is mystical. Her words inspired me to share my own. When she acknowledged that it felt weird to say that out loud, she made me do it, too. Her words guided me to say out loud what I had not even let myself acknowledge. She led me to say what I may not have otherwise said. And, here it is:
These hawks, I believe they are messengers. They were sent to startle me (us) awake. To open my eyes and ears, and get closer to something that intimidates me. They came to inspire. They came to show me the power of perspective. They are telling me to get closer to the light; ushering me to fly into it, unafraid.
Today, as I was painting, the words of a song inspired me to think about those birds again, but this time, I felt that deep down tug of intuition, that guide, needing me to hear this:
“And I know, you're afraid of falling flat
And I know, those walls are up against your back
And I know, there are those who'd see ya crack
But I know that you're stronger than that”
- Bahamas “Stronger Than That”
This guide was yanking me down a path. The hawks had set me on a trail to discover something, but this was a different direction. So I leaned a little, and I walked it… I scribbled down in my sketchbook a note that says:
“The hawk isn’t afraid of falling to the ground. He flies as he was made to fly, but he comes down to rest and to observe. When he comes down, he isn’t falling; he is building strength and focusing. He doesn’t fly ’til he falls. The hawk is stronger than that.”
-me
This summer the hawk came to me repeatedly until I acknowledged him. In noticing these hawks, I became inspired to look carefully at every scenario, to be wise, to be strong, intentional and intuitive, rather than complicated and overworked. The hawk uses his perspective and intuition to tell him when to fly and when to perch. It may seem like calculated patience, but an animal is nothing but simple intuition. He is acting instinctively saving his energy for the opportunities that deliver. He is not flying constantly either, nor does he busy himself by running around on foot all damn day. The hawk has wings that allow him to soar in a light filled sky. He is a noticer. He is a visionary. He is inspired by his unique perspective and fueled by his intuition. He is an artist, a musician, a writer.
I pause at that last paragraph to make a note in my sketchbook. It’s a painting title I may use. I jot down: “Fly in the Light”. Just as I handwrite those words, thunder booms loudly, without any rain for introduction. The connection is lyrical. That could have been a kick drum. It was like all these crazy world events, deep reflections, books, songs and bizarre hawk sightings, all just came together. It all just caught a beat, and with that thunderous drum sound, a song fell in sync. Life and art in harmony. It’s all connected.
I look out my studio window from my desk. It’s raining now. A slow but persistent turtle has crawled from a bush and is crossing the driveway. She must be heading for a stronger shelter from the storm. At this particular moment, I feel a stirring sensation that this turtle is another animal coming to me. She wants me to know something, learn something…write something. I immediately google, “turtle spirit animal”. I can’t help myself. I’m addicting to knowing stuff like this now. I believe in it, too.
I learn that “The turtle totem wisdom teaches us about walking our path in peace and sticking to it with determination and serenity.” The turtle encourages us to take a break in our “busy lives and look around or within….”. https://www.spiritanimal.info/turtle-spirit-animal/
Path, Busy, Look, Within: These are all important words in this essay. That little tortoise just came by with a wink and a fist pump…. ’n off she went. I am inspired to stay on my path, this new, more peaceful one. Because that’s where I really began to notice things.
As an artist, I have found myself moved by many things, but the inspiration I never saw coming was a bird of prey with no color or significant meaning to me otherwise. However, my calling as an artist is to notice and work with everything I am given, to obey every tug in my heart and every sense of inspiration whether I hear it, see it or feel it. Each time I trust, each time I surrender with obedience to 'the tugs’, each time I’m willing to seem like the town crazy lady accepting messages from spirit animals, I find that I have been tested. The reward for completing each faithful test has been a great one. It is not an answered prayer or a material blessing. It is the most rewarding sensation yet; fulfillment. It is a warm glowy light flooding my bones letting me know I am fulfilling my life’s very purpose. I am called to create, to fly in the light, painting what I feel, and writing what I know.
As it turns out, we, the artists, the noticers, we are here to serve, to heal, to protect. We do provide. Whether the light glows or glares, we bear the brightness. When we paint through pain, and sing in sorrow, we trap truth and honor it. We make lanterns out of the light we find. The light shifts perspectives, heals hurt and hate, opens eyes. Art serves sensation to solid rock souls and protects hearts from callusing. When hope burns out, we sense a flicker. We provide the light, and we pass it.
I have woken up in the middle of the night. My husband is away for work, and I am alone in the dark, awake with my eyes closed. In the deep, silent pit of me, I feel that wordless voice answer my question drawing me to a deeper conclusion:
You cannot hide the light you have noticed. That, is why you make art.
You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a basket. Instead, they set it on a stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven.
Matthew 5:14-16