Wobbling

My craving for art has returned in full force. I find myself experimenting, throwing caution to the wind on a canvas, and then resurrecting an old piece and carefully correcting what I now see as problems. Activity in my studio changes with each day: depending upon my mood and with my bank account. Oh to have enough money to simply paint all the time! Yet the reality for the need of a steady income sits at my doorstep with it's insistent knocking.

I've stood up again to take the journey, and I feel new life soothing my spirit. It has begun with tenuous steps. I think at one point I expected I should be able to hop up and run. Delusional. Nothing in life works that way. One may never lose the ability to ride a bike, but they might not soar quite as fast, and there's certain to be an embarrassing wobble at times.

So I wobble...with joy and confidence that the God who gave me this gift is also The One in charge of resurrections.

Loud Silence

I've started painting again...pulled out an old canvas that I thought needed reworking. How can I describe what it was like to put paint to brush once more after such a long hiatus? It was like going to the gym every day for a year, then stopping for a year and returning. Urrrghhh. I don't have the same endurance or skill. There is all this knowledge in my head that won't come out through my hand!

The acid test came when I friend visited my studio. I warned him that I was not happy with my current painting. He stood in the middle of the room, and asked "Is that what you're painting." (The only piece on the easel, but I resisted any sarcasm and simply replied "Yes.") Silence. Loud, loud silence. He left the room and that was that. Okay. I can do this. Let me rephrase that--God can do this.

Lord, help me at least show up. I wanted adventure. I wanted a new life...well, here it is, with all it's road rash reality.