Painting Dreams

Science tells us that we all dream, even if we don’t remember them. We spend such a large part of our lives in the dreamworld. It takes up a solid residency. One could easily imagine that our dreaming lives are every bit as tangible as our waking lives. We live in a duality of experience. One is porous, fluid, and disembodied. The other is rigid, sequential and limited by our physical bodies.

There’s something deeply intriguing about dreams…the phenomenon of waking up knowing you have participated in a storyline, and sometimes remembering only snippets or nothing at all just the vague feeling it leaves you. I always think it’s like some inner sage who is tap tap tapping on the door of my mind trying to tell me some important things. And I feel like I most often miss their memo. There’s confusing elements to dreams also. Confusing how they pay no heed to linear timeframes and socially acceptable conventions. It’s like emblazoned on the dream threshold is the statement: “You are entering into a symbolic space. There are no rules and absolutely nothing will fit neatly in your cognitive boxes”

We would like otherworldly visitations to come as distinct voices with clear instructions, but they may only give small signs in dreams, or as sudden hunches and insights that cannot be denied. They feel more as if they emerge from inside and steer you from within like an inner guardian angel. . . . And, most amazing, it has never forgotten you, although you may have spent most of your life ignoring it. -James Hillman-

Working with dream images

James Hillman has an interesting way of working with dreams. He asks us as dreamers to ‘stay with the image’ and resist analysing it, because in the analysis we reduce it down to a label and void it of it’s transformative power. By viewing the images as sacred in this sense, we are taking our ego, or ‘what it means to us’ out of the equation and just regarding the image in an open-handed, curious way. Rather than a black cat pouncing meaning opposition or manipulation, for instance; we ask how does it feel to have a black cat try to pounce on you? And does the dream image like what you are saying about it? He uses the analogy of going to an art gallery. A painting we are looking at does not want to be compared to another artists work, but rather it wants the viewer to see it in it’s own right. Essentially I think Hillman sees the dream as inhabiting the realm of the soul, the inner person or the depths of who a person is. The parts of ourselves that are so much larger than the ‘facts about us’, the soul is the God-breathed connected self in contrast to the ego self which is covered in these labels, and entered on tasks and one dimensional definitions.

I’m working on a project at the moment where I am recording my dreams as much as possible, and then attempting to draw and paint significant images from them. So far this exercise is adding clarity and depth to my experience within the dream and the possible meaning I am bringing into my awareness. Images automatically carry metaphor and also bring multiple interpretations to the table. These have truly been a wellspring for my creativity, giving me a sense of direction and purpose in my art.

Dreams respond to our intention. The more we pay heed to them, the more they seem to enter into our waking world bringing their treasures to us, showing us that there is much much more to life than what we perceive in our everyday lives.

“Don’t ignore your dreams, in them your soul is awake and you are your true self.”
― Bangambiki Habyarimana

Perhaps in dreams we are our true wise and more larger selves, playing in a landscape that pays no heed to the rules and conventions of the world. We take our place as droplets in the oceanic heart of God, and like weavers we patch up our anxieties and angst and hidden fears, allowing God to wipe our brows and prepare us for the next day.

Studio Days

I have been finding so much joy in creating lately. I have felt a wonderful sense of ‘release’ from worrying about what I create and how it is received by others. This is liberating! I know I still have a long way to go in this regard, but I can see the slight shift, and it feels like putting on comfy clothes after a long day.

Many artists say “I need to loosen up” . There is this dilemma: we have a desire to put our work out into the world, but we also have internalised the idea that we must create to please an imaginary audience. Hence we become tight and controlled. We long to find the space we lived in as very small children when we created out of a carefree curiosity. We search for the magic that we know is inherent in the creative process.

For me, working on disentangling my inner critic is an ongoing journey. Prioritising little ‘warm-up’ activities, and allowing myself to play and experiment with no needed outcomes have become more and more important.

Here is my latest Studio update. A little snippet of what I have been doing in the last few weeks, with my thoughts and various projects. Following the trail of curiosity and letting things unfold.

Another Painting for the Fridge

I’m not liking any of my art at the moment, and that’s a good thing.

It’s good, because it means I have been making art as a process, rather than a final product. I’ve been experimenting and being sloppy. Just putting anything on paper and watching with detached curiosity how I react to these strange clunky drawings.. That said, sometimes later on I see some value in something I have made and actually end up liking it a lot.

I have so little energy that I tend to create in short bursts, and this stops me from overthinking. My inner critic is upstaged by a migraine or just the feeling of deep exhaustion. Whilst chronic illness is no walk in the park, it does tend to whittle away at the superfluous fluff of life. Yes, Ms Perfect begone, you meant well but I have no bandwidth for you now.

It’s easy to fall into the feeling of being somehow ‘blocked’ as an artist when you are not making art that seems ‘good’ in your own eyes. Positive thoughts or kind and generous words from friends does not always assuage the lonely experience of frustration and discouragement.

My theory with artist block is that our footprints in the world are unavoidably tangled with our unconscious, and often discouragement points to something deeper going on. I believe creativity is so very important. Dostoyevsky says in his book, “The Idiot”, “Beauty will save the world”…what an intense and weighty statement. Art, I believe, is a homage to any and every kind of beauty. In our world of industrialisation, capitalism, patriarchy, greed, chaos and deep suffering, beauty and our response to it in the form of art- provides a healing salve.

So it’s no wonder then, that we put such pressure on ourselves as artists- even the label feels a bit lofty. If I say I am an artist I have just labeled myself as something I really don’t think I can live up to. But what’s the alternative? I need to find a way to sit with both the importance in creating art and the expendable quality of it. Like, it’s just paint on canvas. It’s just words strung together. It’s just something you may have put on your mum’s fridge when you were a child. It’s pretty ordinary. It’s also alchemical magic and wonder. Both. That’s probably where the magic is located- in the collision of something so ordinary with the ineffable. We are drawing pictures of God. We are responding to a mysterious reality- one that we may have caught a mere fleeting glimpse, a reality that we were previously unaware of. We sit still just long enough for it to make us gasp, and to have our imaginations filled with a story so vast that we only hear and see little snippets. And the storyteller is not us. We notice something lovely or fascinating we didn’t see before. So, we respond, and in the process, complete the alchemical reaction by creating something from our unique perspective.

I often think of the creative process as akin to dreaming. Ineffable images and symbols come bubbling to the surface, and our only job is to make a little bit of sense to them. This is why it’s often not until we view something we have made later on that we see some of the meaning, or the themes that our unconscious wants to bring to the surface. And yet to really find the sense of satisfaction in making art, I must also take on the attitude:”This is just another painting for the fridge”. No good can come from being overly self-conscious. We end up editing all the interesting stuff out. Probably one of the most crucial tasks we have artists is to be as authentically ourselves as we can be. Crinkles, quirks and all.

We might indeed be saying something important, in our art. But, the unchecked wisdom that comes from the unassuming childlike parts of us are perhaps most precious.

I love this encouragement:

“Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You.”

Dr Seuss

….A good one for your fridge

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.

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” .