“It’s not impossible. I used to bullseye womp rats in my T-16 back home, they’re not much bigger than two meters.” - Luke Skywalker
In the months following me destroying a perfectly good painting I knew I needed some help sorting myself out, so I sought out a new counselor. Finding him was Providential, too. The work we did, the guidance he provided, was impeccably helpful and restorative. And not just to my mind and soul, but to my understanding and imagination. By the end of our nearly two year journey I had the tools and knowledge I needed to shift my perspective about my life and livelihood.
I was finally able to see more clearly how much my Heavenly Father loved me and how deeply the gift to make art, and to make it the way I do, is powerful and liberating. Sure, it's primarily for me, as I make art I want to see, but by the end of this stint of my counseling journey my counselor expressed how much he appreciated the beauty and power of imagination I brought to our sessions. It fueled the flame kindling in my heart.
Not long after starting counseling, I joined the Created to Thrive Mastery Program with Matt Tommey. I was already in the Mentoring Program his team provided, and the internal work I’d done before counseling was done through this program, but the joining the mastery level was like a dream come true. Not only was I part of an encouraging and serious community of fellow Christian professional artists, this was another confirmation to continue this endeavor. My wife and I had been praying for the opportunity to grow more deeply and skillfully in my professional career, and I’d mentioned wanting to join this mastery program specifically before receiving the call to join. In that first year of the mastery program I learned a great deal about running an art business, how to adjust my priorities, and how to accept and appreciate my creative proclivities as a professional artist. Again, the image of the campfire in the hazy glade with glowing embers came to mind. The painting was more than a painting for me, and this time I knew I wasn’t in danger of becoming a grumble, nor was I grumbling as much as before. The embers of a grateful heart were glowing more steadily than ever before.
Simplified vision with more natural colors. Not what I envisioned, but this version was great practice.
And it’s those same embers burning beneath the ashes that I saw back in 2023, but this time I’ve got a renewed vision and focus. During those months I resolved to restart the painting “Till the Whole Pile Glows Red and Clear”, so I got cracking on it again. I stretched and primed a new canvas over the same stretcher - it had survived my previous assault - and got back to work. Not long after I began this second attempt I noticed that the same dissatisfaction as the previous attempt peaked its head. This time, however, I remembered my training and accepted that the piece wasn’t going the way I’d envisioned. I also knew that this wasn’t one of those “let the piece tell you what it is” moments either, so I scraped off what wet paint remained and reprimed the surface for the third - and, God willing - final time!
Closer…but still not quite what I wanted.
This past summer - gosh, can I already say that? - Daniela and I took our four children to Guelph, On, Canada to visit my wife’s family. While we visited with everyone from Colombia, Spain, Canada, and Texas we got to enjoy the natural beauty in the city. For that entire trip I had very little time to paint or even sketch, but I was able to process my work mentally as I took in the sights and collected as many photos as I could while enjoying our immediate and extended family. The richest of these ongoing mental excursions was a growing association between the discipline of Surrender and the textures and colors of this painted vision. I tried to keep this painting out of mind, but I kept hearing the word “surrender” in my head and heart; each time the word became more beautiful, more powerful. And my response became more tearful.
This meditative experience was such a timely, sweet succor and consolation. And the inverse started to occur as well, each time I thought about which brushes and colors I’d need to create the strokes I now envisioned, I would hear, “Surrender”. So I brought that experience back home with me, secured in the most precious container I have, and into my studio. Approaching the canvas this time, I had a new mindset. A new perspective. I trusted the Spirit leading me, and I got to work with a restored approach.
Understanding that the things I see - through observation and imagination - are not only acceptable means to make paintings, but are necessary components of my art-making process. It’s a part of who I am and how I’ve been woven together. And on top of that,the understanding that I’m not making my art for God. I’m making it with Him, in spirit and in truth, through study and growth, in failure and excellence. My worth isn’t incumbent upon my ability to paint, thank God, but my ability and desire to paint was knitted into my being by the One who gives me worth.
While this newest iteration (pictured below) isn’t complete, it has been a great joy painting this version of this painting. I’ve been more intentional with my brushwork - paying slow, close attention to textures and stroke variations - and my color choices. I am more surrendered to the full scope of my process and in taking the steps necessary to create my work. I am more committed to the process than the product. And arriving to this place has awakened something else - scenes depicting my journey to discovering new pathways while drawing more directly upon local North Texas landscapes, making my practice more genuine and approachable - and I am thoroughly excited to explore and paint. “You’re all clear kid! Now let’s blow this thing and go home!”
