We searched everywhere. Twice. Three times. Four. Logical places, illogical places. No check.
I knew it was likely to reveal itself eventually, at which point its path would make complete sense.
In the moment, though, I knew we were not going to locate that check. We had to let go of searching, we had to embrace not knowing.
We contacted the insurance company; they issued a new check.
Two years later, I went to tidy a small drawer in which we kept the Kodak envelopes that held negatives from photos we'd sent away to have developed (*As I said earlier, this was way back!). In retrospect, I could suddenly see what had happened, even though I had no ability to imagine the scenario at the time. The mail delivery that included the insurance check also included envelopes of photographs. We opened everything, set the stack of mail down, and later brought the Kodak envelopes upstairs to their designated place in the desk drawer in our bedroom, never knowing the stack of envelopes also included the envelope containing the insurance check.
Similarly, my painting process for Finding God only made sense to me retrospectively, after I'd found what I was looking for and could look back.
While creating my painting I was searching, looking everywhere, but couldn't find what I was looking for. Tried this, tried that, did logical things, illogical things. No discovery. Had to let go of searching, had to embrace not knowing.
Then, suddenly, days and weeks later, there it was—a compelling tangle of meadow! I found what I was looking for, and the whole process made sense.
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Want to take a closer look?
For the next few days, I invite you to join me in ignoring the security guard who will surely reprimand us for putting our faces just inches from this painting to find God in the tangle.
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| Finding God in a Tangle of Meadow detail |
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| detail |
9 comments:
ooooh thank you for the close-up! And for holding the security guard back so I could put my nose in this glorious meadow...
Those security guards are pesky, aren't they? hahaha … they can't get closer than six feet so they're not able to yank us away. Stick your nose right into that meadow! Glad you're enjoying the close-ups! Glorious thanks, Jen!
OH those details are SO luscious!I have been able MOST of the time to let go when I don't find something. Recently found a hammer that went on a trip on one of my shelves!
And to add,sometimes when painting I don't what in the world I am looking for.
Carol, thanks for seeing luscious here!
I think sometimes of items I've lost and never reconnected with—they are gone from MY life, but not gone. In this very moment each one of them still exists in some very precise location on this planet. I wonder who is wearing the crocheted beaded bracelet Mary D. made for me years ago that I lost at some juncture one morning 15 years ago as part of exercising at Curves!
Either I don't know what I'm looking for but know I'll recognize it when I find it, or I know precisely what I'm looking for but am not able to find it!
Exactly!😘
Love the little globs of paint, the combing, the marks, the paper bits, the, the, the. I magnified the page and just sat here, buried in pink contentment. :)
PERFECT! I could wish no more than for you to magnify the page and bury yourself in the, the, the, Sheila!
Thank you.
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