Category: Creativity

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Art Journaling

I had a good day today. I did relax–I worked for a couple of hours in my art journal, which is creative, intuitive, spiritual and sometimes prophetic. The pages soothe my mind and soul when I cannot be outside, and today, though the weather was pretty enough, I felt I needed to just stay put at home. That decision meant I could also do some necessary mundane chores like laundry, and I was also available here if Pete needed me as he began to slowly make sense of the I-have-no-idea-where-anything-is that was his frame shop at the Nags Head gallery. The banner accomplishment for him today was to hook up the computerized mat cutter and determine that it handled the move admirably and is cutting nice straight sharp lines, as a mat cutter should. I know he is relieved about that. Then we sat in our swing for about an hour in late afternoon, just a-swinging. Really a perfect day.

I am always amazed when I sit down with my art journal and just let myself respond to whatever catches my interest. I thumbed back through pages I had collaged over the past couple of years. I tend to combine imagery and words in these pages. Sometimes I know exactly what I mean when I create them, and sometimes I have no idea why THIS should go with THAT. But later, the pattern I chose seemingly at random makes more sense. One thing I spotted on a page today was a pendant with an uplifting word. We wound up ordering something very similar from an American artist when we went to Philadelphia last February! I did not consciously recall putting that image on one of my pages, but it was there to remind me to pay attention to everything that tugs at my attention, however lightly. Whispers can mean as much as shouts, sometimes even more.

You are learning to listen to the Still Small Voice. Sometimes that Voice is My Own Voice, wooing you. And sometimes the voice you hear is your own. You have tended to devalue that voice, many times. But I find it precious. I Am glad you are beginning to listen to yourself and count your own thoughts and words as valid.

Lord, that reminds me. I had another sudden insight several days ago. I was thinking about how we humans do like to rank order. We put ourselves first, or last, or somewhere in the middle. And as I was thinking, I saw in my mind’s eye a vertical line, just a straight line, as if it were made up of humans, as if humanity were arranged in some sort of ladder-fashion. Who would be at the top and bottom? Where would each person fit in? We tend to think in all those terms. But then suddenly I saw instead a horizontal line, as if all of humanity were strung out like that old Cola commercial, holding hands, standing shoulder to shoulder. No rank-ordering. Every single person as important as the next, but each one an individual. And in that instant I realized, that is how You see us. All of us. Each of us and all of us and all at once. Not rank-ordered, but as individuals, and yet essentially a part of the whole, as You said the other day. No missing pieces. It was beautiful, actually, what I saw. 

More and more you are seeing the world as I see it and as it views itself. Which is reality, you wonder. The paradox is, both offer views of humanity that are realistic. Yet only My View is sustainable. The usual world’s view of itself is doomed to failure, sooner or later, because it is not based in Love. Any view not based in Love will eventually lead to an absence of all the other virtues, like Peace or Goodness or Kindness or Justice or Faith. You have the ability to hold both views at once, and to work and pray to help the view I see become truer and truer in your experience of reality. That is really all you can do, and it is hard work at times. But for all those who wish to work for Peace and Love and Justice, holding My View of the world is essential. So the next time you are tempted to become impatient in line, or while on the road driving, remember how I see all of you. No one of you is more important–or less important–in My Eyes. Each of you is fully and completely Loved by Me. That does not mean I Love or Approve of everyone’s individual actions. Far from it! Love demands an honest scrutiny of motive and means, and humanity falls far short of Love most of the time. You see, it is My Love that sustains the Universe. Never mind some don’t accept that reality; that is the truth.

That reminds me suddenly of some old joke, God, or something. How did it go?

What you are trying to remember is this. All humans may not believe in Me, but I believe in all humans. And that is humanity’s grace and your hope.

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Innocence

NOTE: Written intended for the evening of June 4th.

So this is wild. I can open the internet, get on google, whatever. Anywhere, basically, but my wordpress blog site! Frustrating and attention-getting all at once. 

I was going to write, I cherish the Quiet and it is not quiet right now. But all is well. Moving machinery today went well, thank You for that and for all the help we have had. Between OBX Movers and Pete’s daughters MaryAnn and Faith, and his son Pete coming for benches and tool boxes, all the large, heavy stuff is home now. What is left we can handle ourselves. What a relief! I worked on a new lyric today, inspired by Reckless Love by Cory Asbury. I like the way the lyric is coming along but the melody needs more work. 

So, back to the internet. I try again. Nope, it’s stuck. So unless it resolves in the next hour or so, I can’t upload a blog. Hmm. 

I spent about half an hour early this morning before I got up, trying to picture the scene You described, the mirroring river. What I saw was more like a whole country, bucolic, pastoral, beautiful, and everyone there was living in pure love, innocent, trusting. It was like a glimpse of the earth if Eden had persisted. It was amazing, actually, like watching some fantasy movie of some other planet, some other earth. I kept thinking, this is what You intended. This is what You created us, all of us, the whole planet of us, the whole universe for. That sense of innocence and freedom. Everyone was smiling. 

I didn’t see a figure that looked like You, I mean like the movies or visual artists have portrayed You, but it was more as if You were everywhere present, Your Spirit making the water sparkle and glinting off the trees in the sunlight. There was something palpable in the very feel of the place. I wanted to go there for real, and for always. I wanted to live there somehow. I am honestly not sure if I was being given a glimpse of what might have been, of what is on some other physical planet in the present, or of our future mode of existence in a heavenly state. Writing that, I have the sense of yes, yes, and yes. As if all three of those possible scenarios were happening at once. Hmmm.

You see, already your writer is engaged in a different way. You saw in your mind’s eye, as you like to say, and what you saw you are trying to describe, to put into words. The healing we have spoken of, the restoration, is already beginning. Remember not to try too hard and just flow with the feelings you have.

Well, the feelings I had, have, are pretty wonderful, I can tell You that!

Good. That was the idea. Remember that I told you, this doesn’t have to be hard.

So, what did I see? Was it real?

Try not to worry too much at this stage about real versus imagination. I Am trying to spark and inspire your imagination. You had a real vision from Me, yes. What you do with that vision is yours to shape, as a writer. See how this works? What do you want this to be? You get to make that choice. You get to decide if what you saw is Eden, is some parallel-universe reality, is heaven. As a writer, you are a co-creator. You know this; you have been greatly inspired by C.S. Lewis, and J. R. R. Tolkien, and others. You know the power of imagination on younger and older minds and hearts. So don’t analyze! Flow. Just flow.

So I just spent a good hour going through images to post with this entry. I finally found something that will work, but I didn’t find exactly what I was looking for.

And why do you think that is?

I have a feeling You are going to tell me.

You tell Me.

Because what I saw is meant for me to write first. IF I ever see the place in “real life” here on planet Earth, it will be after the words. Not before. My description in words will come first.

Yes, exactly. See? You are catching on quickly. Didn’t I tell you this was going to be fun?

So you want me to write about…

I want you to write about Innocence.

 

 

 

 

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Oh Very Young

Tonight I drew in my gratitude journal instead of writing out my list; I had so many gratitudes, and suddenly I didn’t want to rank-order or even number them. So I drew them as balloons. Fun. Somehow that little exercise just enhanced the feelings I was having, not only of gratitude, but of joy and of hope, too. So here is a question. It’s a life question, but also (for me) a business kind of question too. I view art, artistry, creative expression as essential. And when I say essential, Lord, I mean absolutely necessary for a full life. Just as our bodies have to have air, and have to have water, and have to have nourishment, and in that order, I think our souls have to have artistry. And not just our own expressions, but appreciation of others’ artistry too. Is that why drawing out the balloons made me feel more deeply?

You were more aware of your feelings, drawing them, because writing comes more naturally to you. As a writer and as a speaker/storyteller, you turn to words first and often. Drawing is not your natural first means of expression, so you were actually paying more attention drawing than you might have paid, writing.

But it wasn’t artsy, Lord — more cartoonish than anything. Like a very young child might do.

Exactly! “Like a very young child might do.” That is the whole point for you now, to connect with Eve-as-very-young-child. You are unlearning much from those years, and we will be replacing your unlearning with new learning, and new freedoms of expression you may not have enjoyed when very young. When did you quit drawing?

Gosh, I started to quit in early grade school. My pictures weren’t good enough. They were graded poorly–I mean, I got poor grades on them. I either didn’t fill up the paper or the proportions were all wrong. I learned early that I couldn’t draw, that I couldn’t be an artist. Then when I was just a little older, but still elementary school, I tried to paint the birds in my favorite bird book, and my mom’s art teacher found a lot to criticize in them. And she was partly correct; I mean, looking back at them later, I saw right away the flaws she had pointed out to my mother. But I never heard how to fix those flaws and pretty soon I just gave up. It was about that time that words took over, I think. I began to write more and eventually I never drew again, not really. 

Until…

Until I tried, at various times in adulthood, sometimes on my own, sometimes under the guidance of real artists! What I finally realized is that if I wanted to truly hone my skills at drawing, I could. I did have some innate ability, but what I lacked at that point was time. Rather than spending time learning how to draw, and then beyond that, perhaps to learn how to paint, I chose to spend that time, or that percentage of time let’s say, outside, camera in hand. I don’t regret that choice. I love the outdoors and photography gives me the means to get out there. 

But despite the evidence from your adulthood that you can, in fact, learn to draw and that you do, in fact, have some ability in that area, you still see yourself and name yourself as someone who can’t draw. The picture we form of ourselves as young children often persists despite evidence, sometimes overwhelming evidence, to the contrary.

Lord, why are You so interested in these vignettes from my childhood? Why do we keep going back there?

Because your stress, anxiety and fear responses all have roots there. You think you are reacting to stimuli in your present, but I tell you, you are responding to old, old triggers. If you can let Me gently remove the layers hiding those old triggers, they will, one by one, lose their power in your life.

Gosh, God, that would be wonderful. Even though the thought is just a little scary.

Don’t be afraid. That is why I said “gently.” We will never move at a pace beyond what you can absorb and find healing. The idea here is restoration and renewal, and in some cases, transformation, not more stress or anxiety. We will only move as fast as healing allows. So be patient with the process and patient with yourself. And let yourself have fun with this, as you did tonight, drawing out your gratitudes. Pay attention to every prompt or impulse, no matter how small it may seem–or how silly. This is actually going to be a wonderful and wondrous journey for you. And the end result will free your Storyteller, too. Ah, that made you smile!

Good grief, yes. I would love that. So my Storyteller is constricted by…

How can you write for children when you won’t let yourself play? Think about that a while. I have so much still I long to show you. Wonder will be the Door.

Thank You, Lord. Again.

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Autumn Lessons

Lord, what is my fall lesson, my West lesson, on the wheel? I remember West stands for introspection. Isn’t that exactly what I am doing?

Remember the wheel is about balance. Think about what your friend wrote to you about the balance of a bicycle wheel. What is the first thing you think about when you hear the word “west”?

I think of the opposite of Looks-Within, actually–which reminds me visually of a cave. I think of wide open spaces, big skies, big mountains, huge canyons. I think of Big, period. Expansiveness. It is shorthand for huge, and abundance. And You know how I feel when I am there, as if anything is possible. I wake up differently there. I have all these creative ideas, visual ideas. Being west gives me this infusion of creative energy.

West feeds your soul, your inner self, in a different way than any other landscape does. And what comes pouring out of you from the west is different as well.

Music lives here in me I think, though I never equated the two before. But west is the seat of hearing, isn’t it?

Yes, West, the inner sanctum space in some cultures, is where you connect at your core with My Voice and with your own, and for you this connection thrives in spaces that mirror expansive thinking, and experiences of grandeur, grand vistas.

Lord, it feels like fireworks going off! I have ideas and energy! So why, how can I phrase this, why am I not feeling this now? I mean, I realize I MISS the west, literally. I have always had this sense of missing since my first visit in 1993. Pete and I were last there in 2011–seems so very long ago. But from a spiritual perspective, why am I not feeling what the West imparts?

Because you are viewing the West–which is also a metaphor for your autumn years, the years you are living now–as a closed, dark, constricted space rather than as a broad, wide, bright expansive place. Sunset can be as vibrant as sunrise–and can reach all across the sky as you have experienced. The harvest of your life experience now, at this stage, is brimming over with fruit, but you have been so focused on giving to others you have forgotten to partake yourself.

Lord, just thinking about “the West” I felt a surge of energy. The same surge I feel photographically when the light is magic. But that is just adrenalin, right? I mean, it is not sustainable.

It can be. If you can shift your focus up and out from the macro world you have been living in, of checklists and chores, and re-inhabit the larger world all around you, just waiting for you to notice and be present, you will have much more energy and enthusiasm even for those mundane chores. They will get done faster, leaving you with more creative time, which is what you crave.

Ok, Lord. Thank You. 

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Coin of the Realm

Lord, I can’t seem to get quiet inside. My thoughts are bouncing off tasks like pinballs.

 

The Coin of the Realm.

Okay, what does that mean?

If your coin is like a Peace Shield, whose likeness is on the coin?

Uh, Yours is, right? Some artist’s interpretation of You?

So you are an artist. You are interpreting My Kingdom, My realm, which for you is the peaceful connection, the call and response. The counterpoint.

Right…

So the coin of the realm for you is what you offer from those connections. You do give-away. Your blog is a huge give-away. You give-away your heart, your best self, in every encounter. There is a coin of the realm, and it is okay to receive this world’s coin in exchange for the treasure from My realm that you provide. You could, right now, be living a fully-connected heavenly life–but I need you, on earth. I need you to live that life on earth, where you are. I need you to be willing to barter, this earth’s food, this earth’s shelter, this earth’s technology, in order to sustain your physical life and health so you can share your spiritual and emotional life and health. And your venue is creativity because it is a gentle, still, small voice. It is not the loudest voice in the room. But it is very, very powerful. When you “share” the implication is that there is enough for you and for someone else to be nourished, to receive. Your sharing doesn’t mean giving all away. It is not a call to sacrifice. It is an invitation to others to come feast with you, to share the abundance of life with you.

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Angels

Lord, I’m here at the page to hear. Nothing really to say. Time is flowing and I’m just here. I have been working in the house, sorting clothes for Kings Daughters, and that sort of task, tackling a messy closet, always discourages me for some reason. I make progress but never quite finish, and every job done just spotlights how much remains. I told someone recently, I need fresh. There is something in my personality that likes fresh. Is that ok?

How is it you are asking again after all these weeks and months and years if your personality is ok? No, it is not ok. It is magnificent! You laugh—but I mean it. Fresh is My Great Idea. Fresh Manna. “Behold I will do a new thing.” “Behold, I make all things new.” It’s the Imaginer in you. Every poem, every song, every story is an attempt to say something fresh, or say something familiar in a fresh way. The opposite of that trait in you is not contentment as you suppose. It is lethargy. It is a sign, not of laziness, but of not feeling well, a sign of fatigue.

Ok, I can see that actually. Gosh, I am just remembering an old scripture, Record the vision, write it on tablets, that the one who reads it may run. I always thought that was for me the writer, but I didn’t know what the vision was.

Peace for Pangaea is the vision. Connection is the Vision. Effervescent Bubbles, that’s the vision. My Sweet Life—that’s the vision. All of these—paintings, photographs, songs—are fresh ways to express My Great Idea: God With You. And what that means. Not, God-Far Who needs to be Invoked, or Pleased, or Appeased. God-Near Who Loves You.

I look up and out into the most glorious light! Dark slate blue western sky and the sun must have found a hole, a path, and the entire backyard was awash for a few seconds with that light I associate with angels, with angels singing. Are they co-creators with You too? Like You’ve called us to be?

Everything I have created is creative. My Nature is within all I have made and am making. Absolutely angels are creative. You never thought of this before? Ah, a fresh idea! See? You’ve thought of angels like yourself, as a messenger, as a secretary taking dictation. I don’t need to read an exact copy of My Words. I Am more like a teacher Who is giving out prompts. Writing prompts, loving prompts, prompts to go here or there, to come and see. I Am the One always asking, What If? How About?

Lord, what do angels create, then? I mean, I can look around at nature, say, and see You. I can look at art or listen to music or read something, say, and see the outflow of people’s creativity or my own, even, and sometimes, when it is so beautiful, I can see the partnership, You and the artist. What do angels do, or make?

Angels make connections. Angels bring Point A to meet Point 7. Angels help engineer what you call coincidence. And angels sing. There are frequencies your ears don’t hear that angels sing. There are colors your eyes can’t see—like infrared and way beyond—that angels use to enhance your world. It’s what you feel when you step into a special place; you feel the beauty underlying and overglazing that My angels have put there, in My Name and for My purpose.

Gosh, I never thought of that.

There is a lot you never thought of, dear heart. A lot I have to reveal to you. Why you? Because you will share. Gently, gently, these magnificent ideas will leak and seep into your world.

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Pray for New Things

Lord, You keep talking to me about change, and about fresh. But Ecclesiastes says there is nothing new under the sun. Right?

What about “His mercies are new every morning” in the Psalms? What about Isaiah’s “Behold I am doing a new thing?” What about the “I make all things new” as a final promise in scripture? What about those?

You have to discern who is talking when you read sacred words or words that purport to be sacred. “A tree is known by its fruit,” remember? There is a fatalistic cynicism that masquerades as religion. Some of the tenets of that belief system are that human actions are pointless, that everything that happens is pre-arranged and that humans are merely puppets in some Divine morality play. That belief system bears fruits of despair, apathy, helplessness, and hopelessness. Does that sound like a tree of My planting?

How about this? Every human born has limitless potential to be unique and to offer the world a fresh perspective on life, on love, on joy. Every expression of personality, every latent talent, every overt impulse to creativity are all gifts of the Divine ensconced in humanity. The great challenge for every human born is to become. To become the best self possible.

Lord, then what about tragedies? What about kids born in poverty? Born in abuse? Born into the drug culture? Born in war-torn villages? Born sick from day one? What about them?

Do you think My Love for these, for those the world would term “the least of them” is less than My Love for those born into wealth? Into health? Into loving, caring homes? Do you think I rank-order by circumstance?

No, of course not. But I think so many have the odds against them before they even start out. And it’s not fair. I’m sorry to say it that way. But take me—I was born late, to a family that very much wanted a child. I was loved, cherished, taken care of. I had so many advantages even in being born to older parents. And I had difficulties too, like no grandparents because of that. But my folks really wanted me, and I have carried that knowledge, and their telling me I was special, all these years. So I had a head start over so many others.

And you have felt guilty for your advantages. Isn’t that true? You have felt ashamed of having such love, and over being gifted in the areas you are. Listen to Me. Every child is gifted. Every child born is loved by Me. But I don’t wave some magic wand and send a child into hell on earth or heaven on earth. Children are conceived naturally, and not everyone who conceives is an ideal parent. Inherent in that conception is a spark of divinity that includes creativity, personality, and the capacity to give and receive love. Some have those gifts cut short before they can even be opened. You have heard there is great joy among angels when someone decides to change their path for good, for the better. Well, there is also great sorrow among angels for every injustice, for every life cut short before its potential is realized. Eventually, on humanity’s last day, there will be no more tears. That is the day of rejoicing that is coming, for all of creation.

But what about now? What do we do about now?

Follow your heart. Follow your path. You love to pray—pray for newborns, pray for foster families, pray for communities where drugs and gangs have taken over. Pray for peace. And don’t buy into the cynicism that says nothing can change, or that there is no possibility of newness in these homes, in these families, in these communities, in these villages, in these nations. Pray for New Things to increase and abound. Pray for a spreading ripple of grace and mercy, of kindness and compassion. Pray for hearts to rule hands and heads. Ask, and watch how you receive. For your very act of asking can change the flow of events, can alter circumstances, can reveal choices to others that might otherwise go unnoticed and unheeded. Pray for miracles of enlightenment. Pray for aha moments all over the globe. What do you have to lose? Try praying instead of lamenting, and see what happens.

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Play

I’m feeling a little better. Phone has dinged. I need to skeedaddle. Lord?

See how playful a word “skeedaddle” is? See how differently you feel, writing skeedaddle instead of “hustle” or “rush” or “dash”? What if you found playful ways to express your day? Your life? Puppies are all about play—it is how they learn in the world. This puppy will restore your sense of playful adventure within your “ordinary days.” And you need that. True creativity is pure play. You need to play more—a lot more. You spent weeks watching your fox kits play. Remember? Let this puppy infuse you, infuse your life, with playful joy. Get ready to laugh and smile more than you have in a long time. Life doesn’t have to be so serious.

But Lord, there are serious things happening!

And what did you learn when serious things were happening with your parents and their health? “The joy of the Lord is your strength.” I just said, creativity is play. You want to make a serious impact in the lives of those around you? Then spread more joy. Give joy like bread. Bake up a loaf of joy and peace and watch what happens as you pass that around. Mercy with cheerfulness, remember? You have to carry a life preserver with you if you jump in to save someone drowning; otherwise, you will drown, too. And the life preserver is My Joy. So get ready to play! It will do you—and those around you—so much good.

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In the Moment

Being creative takes time. Shucks, even coming here to the page takes time. It gets harder, not easier. I feel I’m straining and rushing. My phone keeps dinging. Distractions. Sorry.

Eve, this is your life. You don’t have great swathes of time. But, please, listen. Neither does anyone else. No one in your field of impact does. That is exactly what makes you—and your work—so impactful, so special. You don’t have weeks and months to write in. You have moments. You don’t have days on end to photograph: you have moments. You don’t have weeks to retreat to put together an album: you have moments. You find Me in the Moments, in the In-Betweens. That is your life and that is your impact. That is your calling: to live a full-on connected life in the midst. Moments in the Midst, the photographer’s way, the writer’s way, the composer’s way. That’s it. That is the “it” you have found so elusive. You have thought you had to wait—to publish, to write polished essays and stories and lyrics, to create a photo book—until you could carve out great expanses of time. But your strength is in the moment. Spontaneity is your strength. Call, and having wildlife respond, is your strength.

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List What You Love

I have some time-space in my days. What should I be doing? I keep putting on the brakes and trying to accelerate simultaneously. All this does is rev the engine, waste gas, and create a rut! Or should I just put it in park, take it out of gear? That’s a choice.

What time did I say it is?

You said not to ever doubt my purpose. And when the tide turns…which to me implies the light changing and time to take the foot off the brake, or the car out of park.

You can take your foot off the brake and coast, or drift. That is not the same as driving. And you need to steer as you drive. You need to stay on course. Stay on your main road. This isn’t a race. This is a journey. This is a road trip. You love adventure, you love new places, you love new experiences. You’ve been putting the brakes—for a long time—on what you love. You’re afraid you will only be disappointed. Why don’t you list what you love, starting with close to home.