We must be willing to get rid of the life we’ve planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us.
- Joseph Campbell
We are no doubt still living through historic times. In Spring of 2020 Cautiously staying indoors for two weeks to “flatten the curve” while it was grey and rainy outside anyway was not a challenge for me. Nor in truth, any significant change from how I often spend two weeks at a time. There was also an air of drama to those initial weeks that I believe filled the void of purpose that would soon become more pronounced.
The challenge was adjusting to the prolonged, drip-by-drip reality of the situation. It slowly became clear that this circumstance would indefinitely continue. The big plans I had assiduously carved out for 2020 dissolved; multiple tours of my artwork and spiritual storytelling events I'd spent months coordinating ... were not going to happen.
Though I was disappointed about this, the hardest part was simply the wrestling match between what I had planned and what was.
“The Adventurer”. The one artwork I created in April 2020.
After overcoming an initial halting fear - not of illness or death, but of loss of life; freedom, autonomy, possibility, and livelihood - my first instinct was to try to stay a step ahead. In some respects, It was maintaining an illusion of control. I sublimated my public speaking energy into a myriad of online initiatives. All of which I am glad I created, but this constant online activity was at a cost. First, of a deep and grounded acceptance of the reality of the situation, and the actual creation of my own artwork. Though we all suddenly had "time" I was spinning too fast to settle down long enough to make any art.
My wake-up call came in the form of an innocent and encouraging line from a musician friend (as wake-up calls often do). While he was quarantining in the recording studio he said he hoped I was making the most of the gift of time we'd all been given to work on my “beautiful art”.
Listening to Donovan, and The Verve’s “Butterfly” while sketching ideas for “The Adventurer”, April 2020.
That was my shift. I felt very humbled and exposed by God. I saw how my fear was a lack of trust. I realized through this exchange that instead of worrying about survival and running myself ragged trying to stay ahead of ever-shifting tides, I would honor this time, embrace the creative isolation and as an act of trust step into the arena of the unknown. This is what art making is for me. This is my life's work, where I find meaning and feel inner confirmation that I am engaged in the work I was born to do.
So I stepped into the arena. I brought my children's book into the world, and made a leap in the development of my painting style and body of artwork. My paintings are evolving. There is more expressive detail and variation in color and texture. I notice the work is becoming more feminine. As my life unfolds I'm progressing from straight lines and solids swaths of color to more curves and fluidity.
Two distinct themes emerged in my paintings this year: expansive visions of travel, and pure, mythic imagination. The following titles are hyperlinks: West Texas, Desert Moon, The House in Mesilla, and Vast and Spacious Land reflect longing for travel. (No surprise, passing my first 12 months in one place in over seven years.) Mermaid Rising represents pure, mythic imagination. The themes intertwine in Moonlit River and Forest of Eternal Light, both of which convey a strong sense of place as well as enchantment. Providence, New Beginnings and Celebration reveal mysterious energies of hope.
I have likewise observed a positive change in my friends, audience, clients and collectors. In the midst of the social forces of fear, confusion and antagonism, there is a palpable openness to spirituality; a hunger to shake off the oppression of division and conflict to claim personal spiritual power. This is a requisite to tapping the collective potential of true unity.
My artwork is shared as an invitation to awaken to our shared spiritual reality. As people are spending more time at home, they are realizing the value of a living space that resonates with their spirits. A couple I interviewed for an article last April said it best: they want their home to "reflect their trajectory, and inspire possibility”. Handmade art that touches the soul is one of the most effective ways to achieve this.
One day (please God!) this Covid chapter will be far behind us. The artwork made during this time will increasingly carry a special value and significance, as both a transcendence, and a fruit of this period. Ever more so, the choices we make today will define how the greater story (of which Covid is just a part) unfolds.
-J
How have you evolved throughout the days of Covid?
Can you relate to the frenetic online activity to make up for in person interaction?
Are there ways you can (or have) shift(ed) from being merely active to productive in a meaningful way?
Post your replies in the comments!