Where did these ladders come from?

I was struggling to connect with God after finishing grad school and moving to Savannah, Ga. It’s not the first time I’ve struggled with this, but this time it was a bit different: it was not me or my willingness, and it wasn’t that God was hiding (something I’ve written about extensively and the subject of the final project for my MA), but it was simply being a mother to a toddler, and pregnant, and all the things that life brings to throw you off your center. Nothing was “wrong.” I just simply couldn’t make the time—and, if I did, I was almost always interrupted. 

I prayed a little prayer of frustration one day that was something like, “How am I supposed to meet with you now!?!?” I distinctly heard, right then and there, “Don’t go up, go down.”

I had been trying the old tactics again, like when I had hours upon hours of free time to dawdle through the scriptures and read the books and pray and journal to my heart’s content. That way was not going to work anymore—not in this season. That word (I believe from God) might not make sense to anyone else, but I think he was telling me that I could find him right where I’m at. 

Y’all, I should know this. I’ve read Practicing the Presence and The Quotidian Mysteries.* Over the years I’ve met God in all kinds of places, on (literal) high mountain tops, in cathedrals, and while scrubbing the toilet. But we all need reminders, and mine apparently must come frequently. In this season at least, I am meeting with him “down here.” 

So, about the ladders. The fact is, they mean what they mean to you when you see them. If they speak to you something else, you are not wrong. But what they mean to me personally is that he comes down when we can’t go up. And that he already did come down. And he’s here right now—we just have to open our eyes. 

There are some other images that are sneaking into my art that might show up more in the future: doors, windows, stairways, (and I will never leave my chairs behind.) I like what these are speaking to me, but I’m going to sit with them for a while before sharing. 

*The Practice of the Presence of God by Brother Lawrence and The Quotidian Mysteries: Laundry, Liturgy, and “Women’s Work” by Kathleen Norris are two of my all-time favorites on the subject of meeting God in the commonplace.

New blog, who dis?

Please excuse the cheesy title to this post, but it’s hard to contain my excitement for beginning this new blog. Here’s why…

It took me years, YEARS, to accept my vocation as an artist, and even after I waffled between “Artist” and “Creative,” “Sometimes Painter,” and “ahem…..artist?” You get the point. I don’t know why it is so hard for so many to claim this title, but I know that I’m not alone! That’s another topic for another day….

Today, I’m claiming it. Full time! (Well, this and mom—I’m a full time artist/mom. :) I’m claiming it so much that I am launching into creating a blog simply for documenting this part of my life. I’m going to write about everything from inspiration and process, color palettes, favorite materials and media…. What else? I might highlight other artists, but I’ll wait a bit on that, because it has been too easy for me to hide behind other people. I’m going to give you peeks into my sketchbook, and let you see what’s on my desk.

The thing is, I’m not really concerned whether tons of people are interested in seeing this—it’s really more about taking myself and my work seriously, because it’s about damn time.

Also, since we’re on the topic of not caring what other people think, I’ll got ahead and tell you that I’m not trying to create the perfect “brand” or “image” for myself or my art. I’m way more interested in exploring what comes out of my brain and onto the paper to worry about that. Let’s just see what happens. :)

I am very glad you’re here and reading this. Thank you for that. While I need to not care so much about what people think—I do care. I mean, I don’t make all of this for just myself, so thanks for being here!