this is not the weimaraner post i was going to write today. i am sitting at the airport - missing a friend and feeling raw and sleepy - so instead you get me, showing up, just as i am in this moment.
i am on my way home from an intuitive painting retreat with chris zydel, something i have wanted to do for a couple of years now. i don't really know what i expected but it was intense and supportive and healing and, i suspect, transformative, in ways that i cannot see just yet.
a couple of weeks ago, i realized that i don't have trouble with the hard and the dark - it feels comfortable and familiar - but i have a great deal of trouble with the light and the bright and the good. not yours - i can see that and celebrate it - but mine.
at the same time, i am getting a sense of where i am heading. not in this moment, maybe not for years, but it feels big. it feels big enough that it scares me. my sense is also that in order to get there, i am going to have to dance with the light.
while working on one particular painting, the idea that had the most energy in one moment was to add glitter. i thought i would just be adding glitter to one small section but it turned out that i had to cover the entire painting with glitter. as i painted on the glitter, i could not stop crying. i kept hearing voices saying that it was too colorful, too sparkly, too much, that no one would like it.
when the painting was completely covered in glitter, the idea that had the most energy was to add large sparkles on top of the glitter. as i painted on the sparkles, i cried even harder. i thought the emotion behind the tears might be fear but when i felt into it, i felt this huge sense of loss. it felt like i had lost something infinitely precious and i didn't know how to get it back. the loss felt very old and very deep.
so that's where i am in this moment. i am reconnecting with the parts of me that knew how to be big and bold and expressive. the parts of me that thought it was natural to be rich and vibrant and colorful. the parts of me that lived and loved with playful abandon. the parts of me that believed i was sparkling and luminescent and powerful.
it feels raw and messy and painful. it also feels very real. and somehow, i feel hopeful.
i feel very vulnerable sharing this, but i offer it up, knowing that i am not the only one who struggles with recognizing and owning and expressing the bright and the light and the good. may we all move closer toward seeing our own beauty and radiance.
p.s. intuitive painting is about the process, not the painting, so no comments on the paintings-in-progress, please. though in truth, two of the photos are of my paint palette.