Archives for posts with tag: potential

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It really is amazing how many surfaces you rediscover in your home when you declutter in preparation for an art sale! Hubby will be pleased to note that dusting is taking place too (this is the woman who didn’t even nest when pregnant!) so, even though it looks like a bomb has hit the house in certain areas, especially the upstairs spare room, eventually surfaces are being reunited with the light!

I’m having an art sale on Sunday. The shed has need of more space so the paintings must go…. on the dresser, on the walls, on any shelf or protruding nail. It’s only when you have a decade of work samples in front of you that you can see the development of style and visual voice. You can see how one idea led into another, how changing one element opened the door to a new series of work, how particular colours are used and returned to again and again. You also realise how dirty your walls are! Finger prints from toddlers alongside the same child’s sticky fingers years later. A whole history of food consumption could be found by forensic scientists. I actually found tomato pips on one section of wall and I recall exactly when it happened…. We were making a fish dish, me and the kids, they must have been three and five, used scissors  to cut the cherry tomatoes. Genius idea, mmmmm.

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The one thing it does make me want to do is get in the shed and do some work! Which can only be a good thing. I’m currently working on pieces that are so completely not me it’s weird. They’ll probably be white washed so this below becomes a base layer, but I have set myself the challenge and I need to follow through to wherever it ends up. Also painting material again and hoping to stitch into it/create garment with it. Again, no idea where that will take me but actually enjoy going the no knowing. Feel like a kid again. Playing.

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Told you it was unlike me!! But who knows…..

Details of the Art Sale on Sunday 1st October from 12-3.30pm can be found by contacting me. Do drop by if you’re passing 🙂

 

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Revelations 2:17

I have had five encounters with incredible women of God over the last few days, and each time I have been awestruck in how, in each of these cases, the person has had the exact gifts and abilities for that moment.

The first was a wonderful artist friend who, because I couldn’t really move, took time to stop and be still with me. And so we sat and chatted, and out of that came great healing and realisation for both of us that we just don’t stop and seek the face of God often enough. Through my struggling she was encouraged to stop and be still.

The second was one of joy, and laughter and the occasional Lindt chocolate which lifted my spirits and restored my hope; made me feel accepted when I felt tired and removed and isolated.

The third was simple acceptance of me as I am, making my inability disappear as we talked and celebrated the success of others

The fourth spoke truth into my life. She didn’t even need to be near; she just understood and spoke truth over me, removing doubt and fear and guilt that did not need to be.

And the fifth encouraged and loved. She swept in like a practical angel, sorting and aiding before praying beauty and restoration over me, affirming my identity and sense of worth at the exact moment it was being rocked.

To these five incredible women, I thank you, knowing that my journey is smoother and more full, more beautiful because of your intervention and love x

 

It’s been a strange few weeks. It started with lower back pain, nothing really of substance, just a numb dull pain that wouldn’t shift. So I did what I assume everyone else does in these situations and ignored it! By the Thursday the pain was becoming a little troublesome and had started travelling down my leg, so time for a quick trip to the doctors, who were amazing and squeezed me in. An hour or so later and I was Googling ‘sciatica’ to see what was in store. I’d been offered pain killers but hadn’t accepted them as, to be honest it wasn’t hurting that much, but by that evening, my goodness me. My threshold for pain seems to be severely lacking and I was very glad to order some relief through the doctors.

It’s a peculiar thing not to be able to sit down. I can lie flat and still, and that is most comfortable, but moving again afterwards is just excruciating for a good 15-20 minutes until I think I just adapt to the pain and work through it. Once moving, moving is good and constant moving really helps. The danger, I’ve found, is overdoing it in that blissful hour when the medication has kicked in and you feel like you can pull out and hoover behind the sofa, under tables and maybe even consider some gardening. But boy do you feel it later.

In theory the whole thing is mind over matter. It’s a nerve telling you that you are in pain. There actually isn’t anything wrong apart from the trapped nerve sending messages. I remember being told before giving birth to breathe through the pain, to embrace the pain. I think if that person had been in the room when I was giving birth to my girl, not only would she have told in no uncertain terms that her suggestion was boloney but she might have been out cold on the floor! Saying that I have a choice: I can rest in bed and withdraw, wallow a little in self pity and hope that the pain will eventually subside; or I could just keep going, just keep moving and see what I can achieve in my current state. Disappointingly, ironing seems something I can do, as is cooking and cricket (to a very poor level!) I have very much enjoyed watching ‘Miss Potter’ with my girl who I believe could very well be an author one day. I can listen to my friend and provide a hug of encouragement. I can struggle with a maths problem with my boy, offering no help really at all but affirming him that he will get there in the end. I can listen and believe my man as he affirms me with kindness and love.

I think I’ve not only realised my threshold for pain is more than I originally thought but my capacity to help or to be useful through the little, seemingly insignificant things I can do means more to others and holds more value than I thought possible.

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One of the things that never ceases to amaze me is how hard it is to leave my art work in a gallery or in its new home, especially if the pieces represent a personal journey of sorts. I dropped off the five completed pieces at the Emporium, Lichfield on Thursday and it once again took me by surprise, to the point that I had to explain why I was just looking at them and not moving or talking. The five pieces that are currently at Emporium I’ve called ‘tolmàō’.

Greek: tolmáō (from tolma, “bold courage”) – properly, to show daring courage necessary for a valid risk (“putting it all on the line”); courageously venture forward by putting fear behind and embracing the fruit that lies ahead for taking a necessary risk.

IMG_5784I said this on Facebook – I love that there exists a Greek word that needs nineteen English words to explain it!! But it exactly sums up what’s I was trying to say. Have courage. Go for those dreams. Step out from that comfort zone. You are brave. You are enough.

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IMG_5710On returning to these in the spare 30 minutes I had, the backgrounds were not as solid dry as they seemed when wet. Two more layers and some scratched text later, they hopefully will visually seem solid enough when dry. I’ve again added the red round the sides and top and suddenly, just as before, the colours seem to resonate. Pleased that those 30 minutes were spent in the shed.

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IMG_5684For the first time in maybe eight years we had an evening without the children’s and therefore a morning without them too. And so nine o clock this morning found me in the shed, dousing the paintings with white and sharpening them with black. They are becoming different from that I expected, not as calming and more colourful, which is a surprise, but it is only the first few layers so anything could happen.

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The last few days have been really beautiful. As a family we have spent a lot of time together and it shows. All of a sudden we are listening more and understanding more, kinder even. Yesterday the kids and I copied an idea from a New Wine artist, making a cross from barbed wire. Fitted with gloves and armed with paint brushes I was not only humbled by their concentration and focus but also by their conversation. Both of them know Jesus and love Him. Their matter of fact statements, their faith unfaltering, speaks deeply to me. They trust. They have faith in Him.

I am currently rereading ‘A Beautiful Mess’ by Danielle Strickland and in it she makes this observation….. “The trapeze artists are really only free to take the risks they take if they know the catcher is reliable enough to catch them. It’s the trust in the catcher that enables them to be truly free.” This has resonated with me as it links perfectly with the work I’m doing about stepping out, stepping into. And it has occurred to me today, and it is so blindingly obvious, that the more time you spend with someone, the more you know them and the more you know if you can trust them. Blindingly obvious. It’s the same with so many things: family, marriage, church, friends, Jesus. I’ve been challenged today to look at what I invest my time in. In a moment of solitude on this beautiful day I am once again throwing myself into the arms of the Catcher and listening to His reassuring voice as He nudges me in the right direction.