Sometimes being alright with being alone is the beginning of getting to know yourself. Painting is often called a lonely task, but I don’t sense that when I paint. For me a painting or drawing seems to almost take on a life of its own. It is more like a dance. Sometimes it is like a pleasant Viennese waltz or a steamy Flamenco of Andalusia. I am never really alone when I paint. Sometimes working with a painting is like entering a sparing match or better, mortal combat. I ask my self why I am doing this. It is thrilling, terrifying, yet dreadfully separate from my humanity that breathes.
If I truly want to be alone, without the struggle, the dance, the sparing match, I must be outside digging my toes in the sand or feeling the breeze on my cheek. I must be in God’s garden for me. There I can rest, think and re-navigate my path. There I find that I am never really alone. The weariness of the fight fades away into oblivion.
This draw to the field, the trees, reaching into the sky has been true for me since I was a young girl. Such solace! Perhaps that is why I have naturally fallen into being a landscape painter; it is a meditation on His loveliness flowing out of His creative power.
This I know about what is important to me. I am at my best when I am able to experience the sounds and smells and caress of the air of nature. Even the crispiest day of winter rails of power and glory that sweeps away the boredom of central heating and air conditioning. So ultimately I am least alone when I am most alone in raw creation.
In my new life this reality about who I am must be recognized. It is central to who I am. It is a non-verbal prayer and a communication that is received and returned a thousand fold. It stills all controversy.