the art of being

Today I am pushing at the edges.

It takes most of the evening to get a few images to load and some things dusted off and rearranged in cyberspace over in my art studio.

Oh yes, I have an art studio.  By the way…  It’s called Talking Walls.  Because walls should speak.

They should speak the dreams of a generation, the promise of tomorrow, the faithfulness of yesterday and all that is good, all the gifts counted up and offered back to Him, a celebration of now being the present from eternity that it is.

What do our walls speak about us?  Because they do speak.  Our facebook walls, our virtual pinboards, our literal hallways where we showcase our priorities, our hopes, our successes maybe even more than we intend to say or show, somehow what is in our heart seeps through.  But didn’t Jesus say it would?

I am in the middle of starting to story-board a children’s book that has laid dormant and dust-covered in my heart since it was originally penned in high school.  It’s a story about becoming who you really are.  That is where all real art is found.  In being the original masterpiece we are created to be. It’s a story somehow I am still learning.  Still learning this art of being loved by Him.  His Beloved.  Be the loved so I can love and fly and dream. 

Art.  It is the second person present indicative form of the verb to be. {Thanks Ann for teaching me that! And for writing one of the best posts on creativity I have ever read.}  Art comes from being.  I need to be more.  Breathe more. Stop more.  See more.

For the last few years there has been a growing desire to study art more formally.  Over the weekend in the space of the quiet hours when our internet was somehow fast enough to load a few extra pages, I did it.  I took the leap and enrolled in a distance program from the London Art College.  A year long diploma course in Children’s Book Illustration.  Why that?  It felt right.  I felt His pleasure in it.

Many have asked if I illustrate because apparently my style is “illustrative”.  Deep down part of me pushed back at that idea, as if illustration was somehow less art, less being, than the formal kind found on gallery walls.  And don’t we all want to do the great things that scream success?  

But again what is success–reallyWhat if success is doing the little things with great love?  What if success leads far from stage platforms, spotlights and applause to create in secret places images that might mold a generation?

If I am truly honest with myself, all expectations aside.  Nothing but my heart being, beating before Him, laid bare, exposed.  And He comes and asks:  What do you ENJOY?  What puts you IN JOY?  Really.  In you could do anything… anything at all… {because we can do what gives us joy, what He created us for.}

And I realize.  I ENJOY creating and sharing stories to be hung in hearts maybe even more than potential masterpieces to be hung in galleries.  After all the only gallery walls that are eternal are inside of us.  Shouldn’t I paint my images there?  In this season, I am learning how to listen to my own heart as it is held by His BEING, His beauty, His art not succumbing to the pressure of a grand outside vision apart from what just doing He is doing in the moment. This moment, the present gift that it is.

THAT is where the greatest art is found, in the place of being.  Being loved, being free, being His.

Walls should–and do– speak.  What do you want yours to say?

Maybe take a trip over to my art studio where I am practicing being. Waiting.  {Especially given our internet speeds here. 😉 }