The End of Winter and Darkness

Although I grew up with a mother that planted a vast array of flower gardens in every house that we ever lived in, I never inherited the green thumb. I really do try, but I also get distracted. Unfortunately, I forget to water the plants, or I plant them where they receive more or less sun than they actually need. I have grand visions mind you. I’ve used graph paper in the past to map out a spectacular plan and then like a kid in a candy store, I order the flower bulbs. In the end it usually all comes to naught.

Notice I said USUALLY it all comes to naught. I lived in Georgia for about 18 years and had a little bit of land to play in the dirt. I particularly love flowers that are shades of blue and purple. I remembered seeing Grape Hyacinths growing up and they seemed to be some of the first flowers to come up after winter. I also remembered that they were pretty hearty. To my pleasant surprise, I ordered the bulbs, I planted the bulbs, and they came up year after year.

“Grape Hyacinths”, 24” x 24”, Acrylic on Canvas, 2020

This painting “Grape Hyacinths” is one of 8 paintings painted for my “Faithful Thus Far” series. The “Grape Hyacinths” represented my season of living in Georgia. I have so many incredible memories from living there but they are punctuated by very dark gut-wrenching moments. I struggled with major depression that became debilitating at times. This painting was painted to remind me of God’s faithfulness during this time. Although it seemed like winter and darkness would stay forever, up came the fresh chartreuse green shoots and mini grape-colored flowers and out came the sun. Likewise, I was able to push up through the dirt and blossom where God had planted me.

“Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.” Lamentations 3:22-23

Soul in the State of Sorrow

“Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God.” Psalm 42:5

Often times, sorrow visits me when I begin to focus on what other people “might” think. Sorrow comes when I focus on my failures and put on shame as my identity. Sorrow comes when I think about where I think I should be by now personally and professionally, but I’m not. Sorrow comes when I compare myself with others and fail to recognize that my own journey has incredible value. Sorrow comes when I go inward and become absorbed with myself. Sorrow comes when I only think of the losses in my life and not all that I’ve gained. Sorrow comes and makes itself at home like an unwelcome guest. Sorrow only leaves when I’m able to look at my life through God’s lens.

“Soul in the State of Sorrow”, is one of 6 paintings in the “Soul in the State of “series. As I mentioned in a previous post, after “Lifeline”, painted in 1996, sold to my artist friend Caitlin Schmitt, I decided to do 6 more paintings based on the various states of my soul. This particular painting depicts sorrow. It has a very similar composition to “Lifeline” but utilizes a much darker color palette. I did not want to use all black for this painting because even in the midst of sorrow and depression, I’m always able to find my way back to God. I included darker shades of green to show that there is still growth in this state. It’s during these dark times that I typically draw closer to Him for strength and as a result, grow even stronger.

“Soul in the State of Sorrow”, 24”x24”, Oil on Canvas, 2023 Available for Purchase

Cobalt Iris

Painted for my “Faithful Thus Far” series, “Cobalt Iris”, was one of eight canvases that hung December 1st, 2020 through January 31st, 2021 in Gainesville, Ga.

Faithful Thus Far

On October 1st, 2020, I moved into a studio space with artist Theresa P-Tan at the 1703 Collective in Durham, NC. About a week before the move, I was attending NewHope Church in Durham, NC and Pastor Reece Whitehead had preached a sermon titled “Thus Far” from Joshua 4. Moses had passed away, and now Joshua was leading the Israelites out of the wilderness and into the Promised Land. Before they could move forward, they had to cross another body of water, the Jordan River. As the priests took the Ark of the Covenant and carried it to the river’s edge, the waters flowing downstream started to pile up in a heap. The priests were able to cross over on dry ground opposite Jericho. After the entire nation had crossed the river, the Lord told Joshua to have 12 men, 1 from each tribe, take 12 stones from the middle of the river. In the future, when asked about the stones, they would serve as a memorial to the people that God had been faithful to bring them out of the wilderness and into the Promised Land. Pastor Reece brought home the point by giving us an option to go to a station that had been set up with black sharpies and small stones. We were invited to write “Faithful thus far” and the scripture reference.

As I sat there in church that morning, I couldn’t help thinking about my upcoming show. Could I make paintings that were essentially monuments or “stones” representing God’s faithfulness in my life? Could the “stones” take the shape of flowers? Looking back on my life, various flowers could represent different seasons in my life. Could I really just completely switch gears and create a whole new body for my December show? YES. By the time I left church that morning, I had decided yes, this was what I needed to do. Typically an oil painter, I was going to do this series in acrylic to allow for drying time.

“Cobalt Iris”, was the first in my “Faithful Thus Far Series” and represented all the times God was faithful while I was at Penn State. It was one of the first paintings that I had finished in my new studio space at the 1703 Collective. For me, the iris represented my season at Penn State University and the color blue was chosen because of the Penn State’s logo being blue. Irises had originally become one of my favorite flowers because my grandmother used to paint them in her free time. Growing up, my mom also included bearded irises in all colors in her flower gardens. While at Penn State in my first oil painting class, I was learning how to create abstract paintings. I had selected the iris as subject matter because of my love for them. Over and over, through out my years there, irises flowed out of my brush and onto canvas and paper. Looking back, I saw God’s faithfulness for me at Penn State as He had provided for me as a single mom living with my parents. While I was at class, my mom helped watch my daughter. I had also been awarded an academic scholarship after my freshman year, so I was able to take 4 more years of classes and graduated with more credits than I needed. Additionally, I had made some amazing friendships that helped strengthen my faith. Just like the rock memorials in Joshua 4, I can use this season in my life as a reminder of God’s faithfulness.

“Cobalt Iris”, 36” x 24”, Acrylic on Canvas, 2020, Private Collection VA

Transcendent Serenity

This abstract oil painting, “Transcendent Serenity”, is especially important to me. In my last year at Penn State University, my first solo show was at an organic food market called Morgan’s Market in downtown, State College. This happened to be one of the pieces. I also had another show that overlapped at the HUB Art Alley Panels. There was an opening reception on March 18, 1997. Unbeknownst to me, my mother’s mother, Marjorie Bonneville Eneroth, was flying down from Grand Marais, Minnesota to surprise me.

My grandmother happened to be a commercial artist for her entire professional career. She was an artist for the Duluth News Tribune in Duluth, MN. Before they used computers, she would hand draw beautiful models in fashion forward outfits, ads for patio furniture, political advertisements, you name it. Then, they would burn metal plates with acid using her illustrations and then run them in the newspaper. I hope I correctly described the process. That was what I understood at the time. If you’ve read some of my earlier blog posts, you read that I lived overseas for the first formative years of my life. My grandmother did visit me in South Africa and we would visit her in America every couple of years. I have memories of her during these visits giving me and my 2 brothers art lessons. My favorite lesson involved colored tissue paper and layers of Elmer’s glue mixed together. Another memory was that the walls in her house were lined with wood paneling and her oil paintings adorned these walls. I decided early on that I would follow in her footsteps and become an artist just like her.

To say I was surprised when she flew in for my art reception is an understatement. I was so proud to show her what I had been working on and how she had inspired that path that I was on. Not only did she attend my art reception at the HUB Art Alley Panels, but she also went to Morgan’s Market to see my solo show. She saw this painting, “Transcendent Serenity”, and bought it. This happened to be the first painting that I had ever sold. In true grandmother fashion, she paid double the asking price. She brought it back to MN and hung it next to my favorite painting of hers, an icy scene of Lake Superior. I was so honored. When she passed away, my aunt Nancy came into possession of it.

“Transcendent Serenity”, 24”x24”, Oil on Canvas, 1996, Private Collection, Morganton NC

Inspiration

“… the peace of God, which transcends all understanding will guard your hearts and mind in Christ Jesus. Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable - if anything is excellent or praiseworthy- think about such things.” Philippians 4:7-8

The composition was influenced by my love for the work of Georgia O’Keefe and my grandmother’s favorite flower, the iris.

Soul in the State of Steady Determination

In, “Lifeline”, my blog post from March 14th, I describe how I was trying to paint something intangible like the soul. The soul was painted in a state of growth using numerous shades of green. When ”Lifeline” sold in 2022, I decided I wanted to paint the soul as a series, in various states.

At a very young age, I believed in a physical world and a world that was unseen. I also started to feel a sense of purpose to create. Even in grade school, if I wasn’t drawing, it felt like I wasn’t living up to my calling. Although, I didn’t have the vocabulary of “purpose “ or “calling” at that time it was just an indescribable knowing. Looking back, that knowing has been with me for years beckoning to me like an inner guide, calling me back to my true self.

“Soul in the State of Steady Determination”, refers to my soul that keeps on persevering in the light of my purpose. I included waves to indicate an ebb and flow. Although I may get distracted at times and get lost out at sea, I remember my calling to create and come back, beginning again with more force than before. This new wave comes in stronger and breaks against the shoreline making its mark. I’ve also included an invisible heavenly realm that symbolizes the strength and guidance my soul needs to stay steady and determined.

“Therefore, we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So, we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.” 2 Corinthians 4:16-18

“Soul In the State of Steady Determination”, 24”x24”, Oil on Canvas, 2023

Lifeline

“Lifeline” was one of my earliest abstracts painted in 1996. I had become obsessed with the idea of the soul, and I desperately wanted to try to picture it, sketch it, and define it. The soul seemed so intangible, something that couldn’t be seen or touched even though it felt like the very essence of who I was. I needed something from my physical surroundings to act as an allegory, so I turned to the landscape and abstract painting to address the intangible in a tangible way. “Lifeline” acts as a snapshot of what I envisioned my soul would look like if it were a landscape.

I chose shades of green to represent my soul in a state of growth, while the spaces in the composition showed that was more room to explore within. Not all elements of the soul are fully realized, some parts remain hidden for a later time. There are aspects that are solid while others are vaporous and ethereal. The soul is in constant flux, the snapshot will never look the same. There is a thin red line that I used to remind the viewer that the soul is tied to the body while here on earth. For me, it also represented the blood of Christ that has brought my soul new life and new growth.

It’s worth noting that I had many influences while creating this painting, art is rarely created in a vacuum. In high school I was exposed to the work of Georgia O’Keeffe and instantly fell in love with her use of flowers. In my own way, I abstracted the iris flower to create the composition. At this time in 1996 I was studying Rococo Art and was influenced by Fragonard’s use of green in his landscapes. In addition, while working on a preliminary watercolor sketch for this painting, I happened to be watching the movie Twister. There is a detail in this painting that resembles a tornado on its side.

“Lifeline”, 24'“x24”, Oil on Canvas, 1996, Private Collection Durham, NC

Paintings Find Their Owners, Even If It Takes Years.

Ironically, this painting of my soul was with me for more than 25 years. It felt like it had become a part of the fabric of who I was. It travelled with me in all of my moves and adorned the walls in multiple homes. “Lifeline” was also included in many of my exhibits and became a conversation piece. So many people were intrigued by it, but it never found a buyer. Finally, in 2022, I was part of a studio called the 1703 Collective in Durham and “Lifeline” was hanging in my studio there. We had a new artist that joined us. One night she told me that this painting really resonated with her and wanted to know the story. Immediately, she connected with it. This artist, Caitlin Schmitt, also addresses the soul in her paintings and does massage and bodywork as a profession. It was a perfect fit. “Lifeline” had finally found its forever home.

Lilies of the Field

“See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor and spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these…Do not worry about your life…Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying, can add a single hour to your life?” Selected verses from Matthew 6:25-34

If you’ve read a few of my earlier blog posts already, you may have noticed a recurring theme in my life. Worry. Fear. Anxiety.

It’s taken years of reflection to try to get at the source of the insecurity that has plagued me throughout most of my life. I can’t say that I have ever really pinpointed a moment, but lots of little moments that have accumulated. When I was 11 months old, my American parents moved us to South Africa. My earliest memories were of being painfully shy. I also recognized the feeling of not belonging when I started in nursery school. I was very aware that even though all I really knew was this life, I was a foreigner. This observation was only strengthened when I went on to grade school.

Paradoxically, when I was at home and around my family, I felt very safe and secure. My church taught me about the sovereignty of God and I took comfort in this. I also have unforgettable memories of trips to Kruger Park to see the animals, and to the breathtaking Drakensberg mountains with my brothers and parents. We went swimming in the Indian Ocean and also stayed in a historical place called Pilgrims Rest. Family life was good. The country itself was very beautiful in stark contrast to the ugliness of apartheid and the injustice I saw around me.

At 7, almost 8 years old, though, it was apparent that we would be moving back to America permanently. On the surface, I was thrilled to be moving closer to grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. Oh, let’s not forget Disney World, candy vending machines and Saturday morning cartoons as well. Underneath my consciousness though, there was a current that was threatening to take me under. During the move, we made some stops in England, Germany and Portugal to see friends. As the plane to Portugal started its descent, we realized that we couldn’t land as expected. The plane proceeded to circle, and circle, and circle which felt like hours. I remember my first panic attack creeping up on that flight. The worry grew into a fear that left a metallic taste in my mouth, and nausea in my gut.

Somewhere along the way, I heard these words in Matthew that Jesus preached to His followers. I wish I could say that reading them was like a pill that I swallowed once, and it made all of my anxieties go away. Unfortunately, I would forget and succumb to these fears. Then, as if snapping out of amnesia, this passage would be called to mind. I proceeded to pull out Matthew 6:25-34, write it out on an index card and carry it around with me. I replaced the specific worries with the knowledge that my Heavenly was in control and that He cares for me.

“Lilies of the Field”, 48”x48”, Oil on Canvas, 2011, Private Collection, Cary NC

In 2011, my brother and his wife commissioned me to do a painting for their home and they specifically asked for a field of flowers. My mother grew flowers wherever we lived and I could just imagine the smell of the yellow pollen and the cool velvety texture of the white petals. When they asked for a field of flowers, I knew exactly what to paint. The image of this field of lilies serves as a peaceful reminder not to worry.

Rest In the Shadows

“He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High, will rest in the shadow of the Almighty” Psalm 91:1

It’s hard to type this verse without singing it. I’m really dating myself, but I used to have a cassette tape that had several Psalms set to music. I found that it was easier to memorize scripture if it had a melody.

In the winter of 1997, when I painted this, my graduation from Penn State University was fast approaching. It was both exciting and terrifying. Years earlier, when I entered as a freshman, I was already a single mom with a 1-year-old daughter. My parents had decided that it would be best for our whole family if my dad transferred offices and move our entire family from Pittsburgh to State College, Pa. As I write this, I am still amazed and filled with gratitude. The years in State College were like living in a safe bubble, it was truly Happy Valley. Not only was my daughter able to get to know her grandparents and her uncles, but she also tagged along and went to museums and art openings with me. As a student I thrived, I craved learning, I knew what my role was. As graduation approached, I couldn’t even imagine what the future would look like. I really needed to be reminded that if I put my trust in God, I didn’t have to have all of the answers right away. I could find rest.

“Rest In the Shadows”, 48”x48”, Oil on Canvas, 1997, Private Collection, Chicago, IL

Symbolism Decoded

“Rest In the Shadows” was one of six paintings that I hung at the Penn State HUB art galleries in 1997. As I described in an earlier post, I was trying to formulate a symbolic visual vocabulary. I included both the sun and the moon, referring to Psalm 1, meditating on God’s word day and night. As for the composition, I used the bearded iris again to organize the space. The overlapping and crisscrossing shapes represented a life that is complex. In the center, I created a safe “shelter” that is hidden in the shadows, referring to the Most High and Almighty. In the foreground, the iris petal is symbolic of protective angel wings.

Field of Wheat

March 2020 started off as a month of infinite possibilities. I had been living in Durham, NC for almost a year at this point after completely uprooting my life and starting over. I was maintaining a daily rhythm of walking 5-6 miles a day in the morning followed by hours of painting. At night I would listen to audio books or TED Talks about neuroscience while building 1000-piece jigsaw puzzles. Socially, I was involved in a book club, a women’s Bible study, an art journaling meetup, and a newly formed artists support group. I was also about to have a painting displayed in the Durham Art Guild Gallery “Swing into Spring” Exhibit. I was thriving mentally, socially, physically and my professional life seemed hopeful.

One Saturday evening after I attended book club, I stopped by the grocery store, and it seemed strangely surreal. Shelves were starting to empty as it appeared that people were starting to hoard certain items. When I arrived home, I turned on the news and saw that a virus had started to shut down schools and many local events were being cancelled. I was in shock, along with the rest of the world.

“Feild of Wheat”, was birthed out of this new world. My “Artists Supporting Artists” group pivoted and we started meeting over zoom to paint. I began in my art journal and scribbled in pencil, the words from the verse John 12:24, “Unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains by itself. But if it dies, it produces a large crop.” I then proceeded to cover up the words in thin layers of acrylic paint and collage. A field of wheat in brushy marks was created during that zoom and it inspired this oil painting featured below, among several others.

“Field Of Wheat”, 9”x12”, Oil on Canvas, 2020, Private Collection, Cary NC

Interpretation

As with many themes in my work, this theme seemed to appear out of nowhere. Once it had my attention though, it was like a song that I couldn’t stop humming. I grappled with the meaning of this verse, especially in light of the pandemic. Ultimately, I thought about Jesus’ death and how it brought eternal life to many through His resurrection. On a more personal level, I identified with that grain of wheat. I decided to lay down my preconceived notions about what I thought the future held. I decided to let these ideas die and see what harvest would come out of being open to new possibilities.

Intrinsic Desire and All Consuming Fire

“Intrinsic Desire and All Consuming Fire” speaks to the internal spirit in which I create art. For as long as I can remember, I have been observing the world around me through the lense of drawing and painting. It’s been a way to process my thoughts and make connections, like visual map making, to make sense of my environment. There have been a few stretches of time, that if I wasn’t at least drawing, I felt mentally off or unbalanced. Not grounded. There was a feeling of not being ready to encounter the world. In this painting, I chose a flame to represent the intensity of this need to make art. The intrinsic desire smolders and burns, it’s hot. It’s based in my spirit, built into who I was created to be. Sometimes it feels like angst. It consumes me.

“Intrinsic Desire”, Oil on Canvas, Private Collection, Atlanta Ga