Love in Art

           Lately it feels like everything is pressing in on me from all sides, and soon I may just implode from the pressure. I fight, and take deep breaths to keep myself whole and in control. There are moments when I feel completely free and light. Those moments come when I am creating. I recently finished painting and re-upholstering our dining room chairs. I also painted the table. I have a sewing project I pick up and put down when I feel like it. My art journal is always there waiting for me. Last night I started making a mosaic on a round kitchen table. It's going to be gorgeous.

I think sometimes that if I can create enough beauty, then maybe some of the ugliness in the world will be cast out. It just won't have a place anymore and will have to leave. Each beautiful thing I create is like turning on a light in a pitch black sky scraper. It seems daunting to fill the entire building with light, but room by room, I have to believe it can be done. Although, maybe some rooms are meant to be left dark. Darkness can be warmth and rest. Renewal. It isn't all oppressive.


When I create art, I feel Love right there with me. Inspiring me, and sometimes guiding me. It's like each thing I create is a mission I've been given, and when I'm done, it's complete and whole, and I feel more complete and whole. It's healing.

I think that everyone has hurt and pain in their past and in their present, and in their future. For me, when I've been hurt, it feels like a small piece of me has been taken away, as if I'm a puzzle. So I'm not whole anymore. When I desire to create something, and I fulfill that desire, it feels like I get one puzzle piece back. I'm one step closer to being whole, or at least you can tell what picture I'm trying to show you, even if some pieces are still missing.

When I paint, each stroke of the brush is like an empty riverbed, opening up a channel for the negative emotions to flow out. When I sew, each stitch that pulls a seam together is also connecting the rational thoughts with the irrational feelings, bringing them together to form sense and clarity. Each piece I glue down, every line or swirl that I draw, each strip of tape, smattering of color, and each word I write. They all flow together to continue in the creation of me. Love formed my soul, the canvas, and then handed me the paint and the brush.