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This is the view from my studio, looking out the bay window at the historic Phoenix Firehouse Tower in downtown Chillicothe. I love the evening sky, in fact I love the sky at any time of day and no matter the weather! It's also a great place to watch the moon, which goes for a ride arcing over the tower as it rises.
Have you ever tried painting or drawing in the dark? It's like drawing blindfolded, except I can see the object I'm trying to draw, even if I can't see what kind of marks I'm making!
Sometimes we go through life with blinders on, or feel blindsided - the reality is that we are missing something. How do we improve our peripheral vision of reality? Try drawing in the dark, or without looking at the paper. See what happens. It forces you to think more about what you are seeing, what you can't see, and what your hand is doing, using sensations we normally don't pay attention to.
I have to admit - I was both blindsided and blind to the obvious recently, much to my dismay. Being blind is a disadvantage, and I can hardly take solace in the fact that I was helping someone in the process, because it was at my expense. But what if I hurt someone without intending to, because of my blindness? I would surely hope to be able to make amends. How do we overcome blindness? I don't like being in the dark, feeling lost, like a night traveler without a moon to cast any light on the path.
That's what life without faith is like. There's no way we can possibly see and know everything. We have to have faith. And so I will paint in the dark, and look for the light.
I will post my paintings by the light of the moon...soon!
~ellen.
Illustration: "Studio View", Photo by Ellen Doerres © 2009.
Today is Easter Sunday. A time for new beginnings and hope, a time for forgiveness and love, and a time for gratitude and grace.
How can nature instantly transport us and change our emotions, and our lives? I consider that one of God's blessings, and I have to smile and say "Thank you!" The beauty of nature is just waiting for me or anyone to experience its powerful healing properties.
During a transitional (very hard) time of my life, I was fortunate enough to have an unexpected opportunity to go to the beach, and one day was walking through the Virginia Dare Gardens on Roanoke Island, losing my troubles on the soft sandy paths. One path took me to a quiet hidden place on the edge of a precipice above the water. I came upon this view suddenly; it took my breath away, and at the same time an intense sense of awe and peace washed over me. I can still feel the wind off the waves wrapping new strength around me.
Several years later, I drew it. Recently I wrote prose to accompany it, and entered it into an open art competition, called "Doors to the Imagination", and was thrilled when it took third place. Perhaps that's because, at least this is what I'd like to think, the healing nature of what I saw and experienced that day in the gardens in one moment and breath, transcends the illustration and continues to be shared with others.
"Horizon II" (3x5, Pen & Ink, Prismacolor Pencil)
From a secure standpoint on high ground,
Looking through the branches of a weathered pine,
You wonder...what lies beyond the waves?
It remains to be seen, left to the imagination.
Obstacles and the unknown can obscure vision,
Creating fear or summoning courage.
The Door to the Imagination is on the Horizon…
...Believe.
That is what I'd like to share with you today. Have a Blessed Easter. ~ellen.
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