Long, long ago, when I was in high school, I first heard the clarion call to “love yourself”. At a time of life when loving oneself depended almost completely on the opinions and responses of our peers, the call was faint, heard only by those of confident self-absorption, or who exalted in extremes and “marched to a different drummer”. I grew up in the 1970s, a time of coasting on the road of fiery independence ignited by the sixties. Since a clarion call involves incentive to bring about a desired state, we were reminded that others will love you only if you love yourself. Self-love, disguised as self-care, picks up where Cinderella left off in childhood, elevating indulgence to a new social norm, available to and expected of all. Yet still the heart remains uncertain of its ability to embrace its home.
The beauty of growing up is that healthy self-love comes from the journey of self-discovery. To discover who I am in the eyes of the One Who designed me and then rescued me from the tendency to sell my inheritance cheaply, as Esau in the Bible did, is to love self because I’m loved, not in order to be loved. I find it interesting that self-deprecation has now become popular; its dulling ache leading to extremes of self-hatred.
I have been given the opportunity to explore a life centered on art. I was provided support, in the form of encouragement, supplies and time, by my parents, and later by my husband. The more I participate in art, the stronger my passion grows and as a result, so do my skills. Through study and practice I have learned the language of art. I am an artist in the truest sense of the word and I am content with this gift. Now I take on a new challenge: unqualified love for my art.
This may sound odd coming from someone who has been so generously supported! However, one of the biggest challenges for artistic people is to love their art unconditionally. It’s easy when paintings sell. The romantic image of art fame intrigues even non-artists. However, I have spilled too much love onto the canvas of approval and left too many pieces bereft of my affection because they didn’t contribute to my sense of artistic worthiness through sales. This is before I began to understand that art is a story told in a language that anyone can understand. Just like word-languages, the more this dialect is practiced, the clearer it becomes.
Unlike word-language, art-language allows for individuality in its use. It is personal to the moment, to the artist’s interests, experience, talents and so on. It was never meant to be judged “good” or “bad”. Art simply reveals. It illustrates, enlightens, entertains its viewers and identifies the artist. It can be loved or hated, appreciated or despised, noticed or ignored, but that is more a reflection on the viewer than the artist. As we’ve heard, “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder”.
Creating is an epiphany— the adventure of exploration and discovery. It whispers truth about what we notice, what holds our attention, and what we feel. It’s a lost language of sharing, used prolifically when we’re young and our work needs translation and we’re OK with it. Creating is an intimate connection to the Creator Who uses His arts to reach the hearts of those who have never used His word-language.
In all areas of life there are proficients:
Orators speak sublimely, communicating astounding revelations with their words; and yet we don’t stop using the spoken word.
Musicians spend hours of their lives learning to play at a concert level; and yet we don’t give up piano lessons or singing in church.
Writers use words to transcend time and location and history, to move and inform and change the world; and yet we don’t give up texts, emails or other written correspondence.
Artists spend hours, days, and years developing their skills. But we disrespect our own art because it doesn’t seem to adequately capture a subject realistically. We stamp “N0 TALENT” on our hearts thinking we were meant to live without art.
The world is filled with art mediums and endless ways to be creative. The only limitation is imagination. What if you made art without input from anyone else? Just your observations in daily life, expressed realistically or in symbols? Artistic notations of a color you like, an interesting shape, a line that “feels” like you feel?
I’m headed up to the studio to work on a painting that has been challenging for me. It has moved through several stages and has acquired quite a few layers. I’ve spent hours trying to make it “true”, a reflection of what I feel in addition to the information my eyes share. When I open the studio door I’ll come face to face with it. In that moment I’ll be tempted to view it with a critical, cringing eye. Taking up the challenge I’ve given myself, to love my art unconditionally, I’ll look first for what I love about this painting. Then I’ll settle in at the easel and seek ways to incorporate what I love into the areas that I’m not crazy about.
I’ve learned a lot about life from this painting even though it isn't finished:
Kindness toward myself and others;
Loving what is good rather than despising what doesn’t meet my expectations;
Staying with it, Trust Where It’s Going — TWIG.
Always bring in light, more light;
Be true to THIS moment in time. The next moment will be another painting.
