"He knows the angels . . . "

"He [God] knows the angels that you need,

and sends them to your side,

to comfort, guard, and guide.

These words from a favorite hymn capture the feeling of how God met me right where I was a couple days ago, and showed me quite vividly what an incredible tool He has given me, in the form of artistic expression.

Sunday afternoon I found myself swamped by some unsettling thoughts. I knew I had to l eave for house church that evening in less than an hour, but I couldn't see how I could pull myself together in time. Right as I reached out in wordless prayer, I heard, "do something arty." Before I had much time to process that, I called my sweet daughter/friend/fellow artist and really wasn't surprised to hear her echo that thought, "Why don't you work on this week's prompt for ThursdaySweetTreat?" The next 30 minutes were amazing.

My hands felt as though they were moving of their own accord, but I know it was the me deep inside, responding to the great Creator, the great Artist. I kneeled on the floor and taped out a message.

Then came drips and drabs of the two colors in my nickname: AquaMaureen. Then came blowing through a straw and the pure fun of seeing how different puffs of air and wiggling the straw to semi-direct the flow made magic happen.

Then the peeling away of the tape.

Ah . . . by me just being me, the me God made me to be, joy is exposed. Joy shows itself to lie underneath all of my life. Joy tells me that God, divine Love, is everpresent.

The alarm goes off--time for church--time to wash my hands and leave my little spot on the floor . . . let the paint dry, but take the newborn joy and sweet serenity with me. Thank You, God of all good, for showing me these ways of turning to You when my world seems upside-down. Thank You for showing me my world in all its upside-up beauty and glory.

Once Again, Ouch

Well, golly darn and gee whiz. I'm in Ouchland again. After my last post, I was intending for the next one to be upbeat. Jolly. Full of joy.

Oops. Didn't quite make it. That's why I put in this oh-so-lovely picture of the last bouquet of California poppies of the season. I'm trying to make myself smile. It's nearly impossible for me to be sad, when I look at these beauties.

Along with some hard work on my house, like ripping up carpet, moving heavy furniture . . . .

. . . and painting walls . . .

I'm also doing some renovation of the soul. Some reconstruction of the heart. And it's hard. I pricked my fingers on some carpet tacks earlier this evening. I can handle that. What really hurts is the follow-up email I just sent in which my bruised heart spoke.

In my half-century so far, I have not accumulated a very good track record with men. I do my best to give honesty and kindness, love and compassion. But so far, that sort of offering has pretty much backfired.

I won't give up. That's just not in me. But I do wish I could learn more of what I'm doing wrong.

In the meantime, I'll pull up some more nasty old carpet.

What are you working on in YOUR life?

Welcome home, Maureen

A new friend just asked me, "How come you haven't done your blog since May 7th?"



That's a question I've asked myself often these past few months. A few blogreaders have even said they've missed me.



Well, I've missed me, too.


And the answer to "Why?" has become clear after much introspection.

[pause here for a floral interlude]

The answer to "Why?" is . . . . . . .

. . . . . . . because.

Yep. That's the long and short of it: because.

I remember when my children were little and traveled frequently on avenues of wonderment and inquiry. These journeys of theirs often set off waves of questions that, in turn, triggered much wonderment inside me. Sometimes what I was thinking and feeling was so large and complex that I couldn't find a way to answer their questions except with a feeble "because."

(Hey . . . something just occurred to me: maybe they didn't want answers from me, so much as a companion on their wonder-full adventures . . . )

Anyway, this current question of why I haven't posted on my blog since May 7th has engendered the same overflow of feelings too big for words, at least for right now.

I went back yesterday and re-read my last post, from May. Honestly, (and hopefully without sounding as if I'm full of myself), I was pretty impressed with that entry. The woman writing it seemed pretty on target with her understanding of crossroads in life, and choices.

For now, what I CAN say, is that that woman made some choices these past few months, some pretty brave and messy and raw and beautiful choices. The road she took then, has led her to this place, now.

She will likely choose, at some point, to share some of her adventures in the Land of Because, because she wants to understand them better, and for her, sharing often brings clarity. Also, because those travels WERE brave and deserve to be honored.

But for now, thanks to encouragement from a very very VERY special fellow-journeyer, that woman is painting again, and can once again see sunlight, even on a cloudy day.

How are you doing, on your journey? I'd love to hear.

Busy busy days

I have really missed having more frequent blog posts here. But the good news is that my lack of frequency is not due to anything (whoa--I just typed "anythong"!!!) negative.

Rather, my level of productivity in creative areas has lept up several notches. I'm 100% current on my WRITE:100 project, having written every day and have accumulated over 13,000 words on my new novel.

Also joined a Poem-a-Day challenge for November and have written and posted each day.

I found some new dancing buddies and have danced 5 of the last 6 days.

I've also painted nearly every day.

My prayers for God's leading and inspiration have deepened to a level I couldn't have imagined previously. He is definitely lifting me up and out of past habits and limits and showing me new directions and abilities.

I am so deeply grateful. Don't get me wrong--this time of elevated activity has still been full of tears, frustrations and doubts . . . but those are melting away in the light and warmth of God's sustaining love.

How are all of you doing? Are you leaning toward the difficult things in your life and letting the divine current of God's goodness carry you forward?

Day 100 of 100

Day 100. Here it is.

Yeah, I'll admit: trumpets woulda been nice. Or a little drumroll.

Instead, it's just the sound of me snuffling back tears from a very long, hard day. And the sound of me munching milk-soaked shredded wheat just before midnight, the dinner I forgot to have earlier.

Spent 12 hours helping an elderly relative switch homes. I'm not at all sure she is is capable of living at this current level of independence. Another move might need to be on the horizon. Or maybe I am overtired and not optimistic enough and just really need a good night's sleep.

And maybe underneath, I still ache for someone to share this burden of care with me, and maybe even, sometimes, take care of me.

Well, what I DO know is that these 100 days of playing with watercolors has awakened in me another whole language of expression.


When I woke this morning, struggling against the demands of the day before it ever started, I went to my paints. Dripped and dribbled some splotch of each color in my paint set. Had no idea of some grand overall design. Just knew that Day 100 needed to incorporate EVERY color I had.


Came home some 12 hours later, so far beyond tired, and went to the paints again. Filled in all the white places. Wasn't sure what to do next. Head about to droop onto the wet page as midnight neared. Then I picked up the rigger, dipped it in the aquablue and started outlining.


What came out at the end makes me think of stained glass. So my final piece of this incredible 100-day endeavor uses all the color available; does not limit itself to some photo-realistic expression; and makes me think of church windows, lit with light and lifting thoughts to the heavens.


When all is said and done, I am satisfied, more than satisfied, with this 100 in 100 days project.


Amen.

Day 99 of 100

Had a lovely family picnic scheduled for today, but part of it was going to be hard. Hard emotionally. In my early morning prayers, I turned to a book my dear daughter and son-in-law had given me by Dawna Markova: "Wide Open--On Living with Passion and Purpose."

Found this line: How could you love this day as if you had never been hurt?

I went right over to my watercolors and painted this:

It's me, AquaMaureen, giving and radiating and being wholly me.

Me, not pulling back or allowing myself to harden into something less than myself, due to being wounded in the past by someone else's actions.

Me, staying open and loving and vulnerable.

I'll risk getting hurt again, if that's the price of being fully open to love, fully alive.

Days 96, 97, and 98 of 100

Busy few days. But I'm proud of myself, that I still painted. Actually, I'm sorta at a place where it would be harder NOT to paint, than to paint. I love that.

Here's Day 96.

Extremely random swipes with the wax resist crayon.

And the colors not as vibrant a contrast as I'd hoped.

Day 97.

I knew I had an extremely full day ahead of me, both physically and emotionally.

So this wide open, full sun just begged to be painted.

Now indulge me, folks . . . does anybody "see" a particular shape in this section?

Day 98.

I just felt like pink today :)

Day 95 of 100

Here's today's piece.

Had a wonderful time last evening, finishing up five pieces that I did for ThursdaySweetTreat.

I absolutely loved working on that many at one time.

When I paint, I'm in a place beyond words, where things inside me feel in balance.

I love it.

(I photo'd these while they were still wet--the piece is dry now, but its fresh wetness is captured here in the photo--I like that!)

I can't quite believe that I have painted for nearly 100 days in a row . . . and yet, I DO feel a difference inside me. As if I've learned a new language.

Day 94 of 100

Here's a glimpse of today's offering.

Give yourself a treat and pop over to thursdaysweettreat.blogspot.com sometime Thursday

and you can see the whole piece, plus a whole lot more.

Day 93 of 100

Here's Day 93.

It's my attempt to paint the happy I feel today.

Woke in severe pain during the night. Prayed, as I have all my life. Did not get relief.

Called a friend early in the morning darkness to pray along with me.

Peace and relief came within a half hour.

Freedom from fears.

Freedom from pain.

Human language doesn't have words big enough for the gratitude I feel towards God for His loving tender care of me, and for the priceless support from others, in times of need.

Day 92 of 100

Woohoo! I'm caught up! Here's today's offering, still wet around the edges.

No particular "plan" with this one . . . I just wanted more squiggly colors . . . more of what feels like the landscape of my soul . . . and one of my other favorite color combos called out to me.

Now that I think about it, this piece definitely reflects the joy and gratitude that's overflowing in me today. Emotional life is still hard. Lots of work to do on my aunt's behalf. Complicated relationships. And yet, these "challenges" are invitations to turn to God, more and more and more. And thankfully, I am accepting the invitation, and laying all sense of burden at the feet of my dear Father. What an unspeakable relief.

Day 91 of 100

Still a day behind in posting . . . maybe I'll be able to catch up today. . . I find I really like the results when I take my photos in sunlight. Usually my picture for the day isn't ready until nearly bedtime, so my options are to photograph it under table lamp,

or wait until the bright shiny new day . . .

Here's Day 91's offering, just now photographed on this lovely summer morning:

It's another one that looks like the map of the world of Me . . .

lots of water and sundrenched land masses and luscious green growth.

Day 90 of 100

Here's yesterday's painting.

Had yet one more intensely full day, facing some long-ignored needs in my house, and continuing the work of getting my aunt into another living situation. Found the courage to write what felt like a difficult email and waited for a response.

In that period of waiting, I painted the picture for Day 90. Once again, that inscrutable "writing" came out. Once again, I have no idea what was "said," only that I was left with a sense that deep down, I knew what was good and right. Deep down, I trusted all would be well.

This was yet another time when words failed me, and painting spoke my heart.

Days 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, and 28 of 100

[I just realized that I posted these two "catch-up" days in reverse order. You might want to scroll to the NEXT post and see Days 15-20, and THEN these. ]

Here's the final catch-up of the time I was in California in June. After a week of totally free time, spent in incredibly beautiful locations at Big Sur, I moved to Asilomar, located right on the beach in the middle of the stretch of ocean labeled Big Sur.

My days would be full from dawn until nearly midnight, with Bible study and fellowship with likeminded searchers for Truth. I don't have words to describe the uplift and inspiration that permeated the days and nights.

In my 2nd story room, which overlooked the ocean, I left my paints and pads set up, spread over desk and spare bed. Whenever I was in my room, with a few minutes here and there, I'd pick up a brush and just swoop and sploosh as the Spirit moved me.

Day 21--often I'd go back to that sampler I made from the "kids" colors, and find a color combo that excited me and then play with that.

Day 22--colors crisscrossing themselves.

ay 23--squiggles of oceanblue

Day 24--swirls of inspiration, feelings I couldn't find words big enough for.

Day 25--a mix of straight and curved, and more colors that called out to be next to each other.

Day 26--a rainbow in unexpected colors.

Day 27--this is the day I would travel home. Can't remember right now whether I painted this in CA before I left . . . pretty sure I did. So much swirling inside me, filling my heart and soul and mind with inspiration and hope. But it wasn't too much. It was huge, but not too much.

Day 28--the day I was supposed to be home, but was in Denver instead. Agreed to give up my plane seat so someone else could fly. Earned a night in Denver and a free ticket. The painting was done while my pant legs were still rolled up, damp from my last walk in the ocean. I painted all I felt of my love for the sea; my tears over the broken lines in my life; my joy at seeing many of those lines as crosses--challenges I was called on to face. In doing so with prayer and surrender, I'd been brought so close to my Father, God.

The next day I was home, and that's where my daily blogs picked up, with Day 29.

Days 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, and 20 of 100

Since Final Day 100 is swooping in fast, I thought I'd grab a few moments and catch up by posting the paintings I did while in California. Oddly sweet and tender to re-visit those days, so early in the 100 in 100 Challenge.

I fulfilled a years-long dream by taking my paints to the sea shore and being brave enough to attempt to paint at water's edge.

[For some reason, all my photos turn the image a quarter turn. Usually I would "correct" this so you could see the image as I'd painted it. But something tells me to just leave this batch of paintings turned on their keisters.]

Day 15--Arrived late in Monterey, CA, just as sun was setting. Curled up in my hotel room and played with the teeny little travel set of watercolors I'd just purchased back home.

Day 16--Next day, during a supply run to the local WalMart, I was led down a particular aisle. A "children's" art product caught my eye. HAD to have it. Sat in my rental car, at one of my favorite beach spots (where I saw a sea otter being birthed on Mother's Day several years ago.) Wind was pretty fierce, so I set up shop in the car. Broke open my NEWEST set of watercolors and couldn't contain myself. First project was to try all the colors, just as I'd done the night before with the OTHER, "adult" set of colors. Interesting now to look back and see how the shapes I laid down differed so. Of course, the first one (Day 15) was also done in the sterility of a motel room, while THIS sampler was painted as I breathed in sea air and let wind and wave crash around me. (The 9x9 pad was scarcely big enough to fit in all the joy, despite being substantially bigger than my 5X7 100 pad)

And this is the official Day 16:



Day 17--I actually bit the bullet and "made" myself be brave enough to set up shop ON the beach, i.e. in the sand, full sun overhead, no shelter or "safe place" to hide. Discovered quickly what it's like to manage natural elements in the midst of painting. Had to move swiftly at one point to avoid incoming waves. Quickest way to "save" drippingly wet painting was to toss sand on it. If you could run your hand over today's piece, you'd feel Big Sur sand . . .





Day 18--more painting at water's edge. Much wind today. Was painting in the 100 journal plus two others, letting each dry or set up, rotating between them all. Had to use my body very inventively to keep pages and paints and cups of rinse water upright. Realized at one point that I was in my "birthing" position, one I remembered well from my three home births. I sat upright, legs outspread, knees akimbo, wet and newly birthed paintings safe between my knees.


This painting was one of several I did, using my fingers to swipe off paint that had spilled out of the trays, and then applying it as fingerprints to the page. Then aquamaureenwaterblue splooshed over them.




Day 19--experimented with brush squiggles. Loved the complementary blue and brown.





Day 20--pure ocean colors. The bleeds are from salt water (from the ocean this time, and not my tears!!)
That was the end of my time just at the beach. Tomorow I would pack up and move to the resort ON the beach, where my Bible conference would begin.