Painting the Feeling of a Place

I watched a Youtube video featuring the wonderful, iconic artist Ken Done. One thing he said really struck a chord with me. In reference to one of his famous beach scenes, he mused, “I’m trying to paint the feeling of what it is like to be at the beach” . This idea of painting the ‘feeling’ of something is so captivating to me. It invites me in to a way of painting that is playful, immediate and unassuming. It’s about fully appreciating a moment in time, allowing for emotions and nostalgia to surface. Abstraction vs realism becomes irrelevant, because it’s all just about subjective experience.

It’s freeing and exciting to lean into the endless possibilities of the imagination, and to trust that our own unique perspectives are both valid and steeped in meaning.

This led me to ponder how my artwork has really documented my life thus far. Even when it is unintentional, art holds up a kind of mirror, often revealing things that go beyond the surface level of the everyday. Pictures show a deeper, more mysterious interior world.. It’s like the process of creating in and of itself has it’s own inherent wisdom.

Art exposes our shadows, reveals hopes, fears and often magnifies the things we love. Many times, I have looked back on older artworks and noticed so many archetypal and symbolic elements to them. They give me a very real sense of where I was at during that particular time. For me, pictures are even more revealing than the written form.

Contemplative teacher James Finley talks a lot about the frustration we can feel that we are ‘skating over the surface of our own lives’. We long for depth, meaning and purpose that transcends beyond ourselves. In the act of creating, we make manifest who we are as image-bearers of God. Perhaps this is why allowing ourselves to slow down and paint or create from our feelings is such a beautiful way to honour the mysterious and wonder-filled act we all innately participate in- the act of making things, and delighting in the process of it.

The Beauty of “Unknowing”

“We sometimes tend to think we know all we need to know to answer these kinds of questions—but sometimes our humble hearts can help us more than our proud minds. We never really know enough until we recognize that God alone knows it all.”

1 Corinthians 8:1 MSG

I get overwhelmed by the amount of useless information there is floating around in the ether. At the moment it makes me feel like plugging my ears against the cacophony of voices, cocooning myself in a cave and fashioning a bubble of silence. It comes to us in many forms, but at the moment I am particularly thinking of the ‘wellness gurus’. This is a corner of the internet I come across regularly as person who is dealing with a largely misunderstood chronic illness. The information is delivered as ‘the answer’ by people who exude that smug confidence, bequeathing some cutting edge knowledge- and now you should follow their programme/diet/intervention to the letter. In fact, to achieve wellness you have a moral obligation to do so! The implied message is often one of blame for what you have or haven’t done. Taglines range from the overly dramatic “Biggest food lies…” to “10 steps to recovery…” and “Are you doing this right?”….ad nauseum.

Going down the rabbit hole of seeking answers has made me realise how little we know collectively of the world, our bodies and how our mind and soul works. This endless tirade of ‘knowledge’ is not limited to wellness. It comes into spirituality, politics and all manner of human rights topics, dividing humanity into arbitrary groups and labels.


Why are we so drawn towards black and white answers to everything? Author and psychologist Ian McGilchrist would argue that it’s the left hemisphere of our brains. Its function is much like a secretary. Organising, filing things, reducing complexities to simple forms, analysing and categorising…a useful road map, but one with a limited function. The right hemisphere in contrast, will take the world in holistically. It can hold two seemingly opposite phenomena at the same time. According to McGilchrist, the right hemisphere is intuitive, and as such connects with metaphor and story because it can hold a deeper truth than just a linear sequence of events. It seems the right hemisphere of our brains are more comfortable with dualities and unanswered questions. Our culture is dominated by the left-hemisphere values of absolutes, details and sequence, giving a utilitarian anti-human feel to the world (this is why art and beauty are so important but that’s a whole other topic!). Perhaps this is partly linked to the vague sense of purposelessness I feel from time to time. The world can feel one-dimensional and unsatisfying. Can you relate? It’s no wonder so many of us are plagued with various addictions – which at the root are linked with a lack of meaning and connection.


Getting back to the pursuit of endless knowledge, which is the cornerstone of this age of information. The idea of mystery seems to be diminished as lazy thinking, or at best, simple-minded naivety. To me, this couldn’t be further from the truth. Being realistic about what we can and can’t change requires wisdom and humility. We only have to look at the past, to see that not only does history repeat itself (war, dictatorships for instance); but at the same time we do not know how things will unfold in the future. There is a tension between being subject to the opposite forces of predictable cycles and random events. It’s clear that there is something much larger going on.


How freeing would it be to embrace the unknowing, the mystery with a sense of wonder and adventure. To me, we all get caught up in this vacuum of pursuing knowledge. But we are searching within the confines of our limitations. It’s like trying to fly by jumping off a roof and flapping our arms.


But how can I embrace the unknowing? I’m wired for judging and analysing things and my mind wants to put everything into small neat boxes. Yet there is the ‘Still Small Voice’ who invites me to find rest. She whispers: ‘There is a God and it’s not you’. Sometimes I can hear it, sometimes not. Whether I can hear it or not there is a deep communion between the Spirit that dwells within and God that will eventually bring me to freedom and wholeness, a wholeness that has nothing to do with figuring it all out. In fact, God works most efficiently in my messes and failures. In the brain fog and self sabotage. 


“My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness…when I am weak, then I am strong”
(2 Corinthians 12 9-10)
Our weaknesses are the very parts of us that are fertile ground for the Spirit to work in most profoundly. We find God in our shadow. According to Jung, our ‘shadow’ is the aspects of ourselves that we cannot see and cannot accept in our conscious mind. We have an innate tendency, as humans, to reject anything that is weak and needy, whether in ourselves or others. God is not the one who condemns and judges- it is our own selves. We all have that brutal inner critic. A call to accept ourselves as ‘Not-God’ is an invitation toward self-compassion. It is only in this context we can see ourselves as we are: hopelessly flawed and fragile yet deeply and unconditionally loved. Self-compassion embodies the heart of God for us, and inevitably overflows to those around us.


Dwelling amongst our shadowy subconscious is the True Light, the author of life, the All. Separate from us, but at the same time in complete divine union with us. God is ever inviting us into greater realms of freedom to ‘live, move and have our being’ in them. Hence, there is a deep knowing within us all that transcends the surface of our analytical brains. It’s such an amazing thought, that the ‘Light shines in the darkness, but the darkness could not comprehend it’ (John 1:4)


I pray for us all that we can experience and understand this wide open space of love that invites us to life, despite the mystery that surrounds us.

Holy Week

Today is Good Friday. I love Easter, I love the way the world has the opportunity to stop and take notice of the ineffable beauty of the death and resurrection of Christ. To reflect on the mysterious way God’s love has been made manifest in our world.

Psalm 22 is a poetic, heart wrenching portrayal of the crucifixion. When Jesus cried out in anguish “My God, my God why have you forsaken me?” He was not, as many of us were taught, experiencing the horror of abandonment by God. Rather he was pointing to the whole psalm- much like when you sing the first line of a song we can sing along with the rest of the melody. The psalmist pours out his heartache and suffering to God, and declares in verse 24:

” For he as not despised my cries of deep despair. He’s my first responder to my sufferings, and when I was in pain, he was there all the time and heard the cries of the afflicted”

Psalm 22:24 Passion Translation

God did not abandon Jesus on the cross, and he does not abandon us, either. “God was in Christ reconciling the world to himself, not counting our sins against us”. Jesus and the Father are one, who can separate them? And nobody is outside of God. The world-all of us-move and live and have our being in God. Breath by breath, beat by beat.

‘God formed man from the dust of the ground, breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul’

Genesis 2:7

When it comes to Christianity, I guess I would have to identify with the ‘deconstruction’ movement. At one time I was very evangelical in my beliefs, however over the course of my life, particularly when my son died certain things just didn’t add up.

The idea that God would give us one chance to say a sinners prayer and if we fail to, we are destined to an eternity of separation where we experience divine wrath. It just doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t make sense because the very air we breathe is given to us by God. ‘Ruach’ is the Hebrew word in the Torah which means ‘breath’ or ‘spirit’. when we inhale, we breathe God in. In our exhale, God breathes us in…Every breath we breathe is given to us by God.

A beautiful passage in Ephesians joyfully describes how God knew us ‘before the foundation of the world’ (Ephesians 1:4). If we are alive, we are pre-destined, cherished and loved. It breaks my heart that the love of the Father is constantly maligned…”Yes he is love, But….” To me there is no ‘but’. God is in essence love, and what good parent would abandon their child? No, the Father will go to the ends of the earth to bring us to himself, and I truly believe that the love of God is irresistible. In the end, ‘he will draw all people unto himself.’

Deconstructing my beliefs allowed me to blow out the cobwebs of things that I thought or did based on my insecurities or feelings of lack- or just the hinderances in my own soul that led me to believe that love has strings attached. I have found profound comfort in the ancient mystics. Both Christian and from other religions. They all speak about this love affair we have with God. A two way joyful and honest dialogue which openly welcomes unanswered questions and unknowing.

What captures me today is the drama and sorrow over the way Jesus’ body was broken open, so much so that it was unrecognisable…But really it must be so, when you consider the brokenness of humanity. Even the most privileged among us experience heartbreaking loss and grief. It seems the only course of action for a God who is All Loving is to break open and in so doing pour out this immense solidarity and incomprehensible salvation.

And this is for all. “Gather up all the fragments” said Jesus “Let nothing be wasted” .