Trees – An Enduring Symbol of Life

Trees, trees, trees – I seem to have become obsessed with trees.

A couple of months ago a collector started me on a journey into the life of trees. He had written to inquire about a piece of mine that had been in his family for fifteen years called Into the Woods. Seeing that piece from so long ago made me realize that over the years I have painted and drawn many trees. I decided to explore the tree of life symbol even more fully in my work.

Throughout human history, trees have been powerful symbols. Most all creation stories include a tree of life, which often allude to the mystical concept of the interconnectedness of all life. To me personally, the single tree represents the enduring, cyclical nature of life; woods or forests are symbolic of the mystery of primordial life. Human beings resonate deeply with trees, who like us, reach down to the ground and up to the sky at the same time.

Recently people have commented that many of my tree images look very female or anthropomorphic. Upon reflection, I can see this is true. I spent a couple of days this week down at the Rio Grande drawing the Cottonwood trees in their annual display of golden finery. After five or so hours of staring at, and drawing a tangle of Cottonwoods, I began to see the actual trees as human figures. The almost black trunks became graceful dancers against a backdrop of golds, greens, and blues.

In Sacred Geometry there is a concept called  “squaring the circle” or “the marriage of heaven and earth.”  Here the circle, representing the spiritual, is surrounded by a square, representing the physical.

To me, tree symbolism expresses this same concept.  The roots reach down into the earth, the physical, while the branches and leaves reach up to the sky, the spiritual; heaven and earth are married in the body of the tree.

On the physical level, trees provide us with so much.  They are the lungs of the planet, breathing in carbon dioxide and breathing out oxygen; they provide shelter; they provide food; they provide shade; they provide fuel.   Mystics and cutting edge scientists agree; the physical is a manifestation of the spiritual, the unified field.  We’re all connected.  Perhaps my desire to work with images of trees at this time is a physical manifestation of humanity’s spiritual need to reconnect with the natural world.   At a time when the old paradigm has brought us to the brink of destruction via global climate change, war, and disease, trees are a good reminder of the sacredness of Mother Earth.  Hug a tree; plant a tree; love Mother Earth.

To view more images of my work with trees visit http://judithshawart.com/portfolio/trees-flowers-and-nature

My Heart Opens – A Feminine Perspective on Artmaking

While showing my work at an art festival, a man stopped to look at my painting, My Heart Opens.  He seemed to be taken with the piece and it’s thick texture.  He was very intent on telling me about materials I could use to build up texture before beginning to paint.  No matter how much we talked I couldn’t get him to understand that the texture is a result of my process, created through a  courtship between control and letting go.  A random splatter of paint reveals an eye.   Scratching into the paint with a palette knife defines a hip.  A scumble of light color plays over the splatters and scratches, creating a texture of depth and light.

My Heart Opens, oil on canvas, 36" x 24"

“Who but a woman would think to put red down on top of that lavender?  Certainly not me,” he concluded.

Though he understood that there is something definitely feminine in my work, what he  couldn’t realize is that thought was not the main actor, either in the build-up of texture or the application of red on top of lavender.  Most of my painting decisions are a result of a feeling.  This approach arises from a feminine world-view which acts from feeling and intuition.  He’s cut off from this feminine perspective, not because he’s a man, but because we live in a patriarchal world which demonizes and belittles the feminine.  We are stuck in the rational, mechanical world of our intellect.  Perhaps women can connect with their feminine more easily than a man can, but it’s there within us all.

As our world careens into climatic and economic chaos, now more than ever, we need to reconnect with the feminine nurturing principle, reconnect with the Goddess, in our understanding of the divine. Worshipping only a male God cuts us off from our source, our wholeness.  We have lost our balance as we kneel at the altar of patriarchal rationality and control.

The male principle initiates action and movement; the female principle nurtures and is responsive to those actions and movements. Together and in balance they work together to create a world of compassionate abundance.   Together and in balance they work together to create a world where the divine is both transcendent and immanent, is embodied, is in the small myriad moments of every day.

When painting, instead of asking myself, “What should I do?”,  I find my question is more often “How does this painting want to be?”    And usually the painting is a reflection of how I want to be.  The painting, My Heart Opens, is a perfect example of that.   Though most of my work is textured, this one is extreme.  I feel  this painting took a long time to reach its conclusion because living with an open heart is a lifelong practice shaped like a spiral.  I reach one level of openness and a painting is finished.  With time the curve of the spiral moves up and out.  A new level is sought and a new painting struggles to be born, seeking a balance between the male initiation of action and the female responsiveness to that action.

Reflections on Katrina

This past weekend was the 4 year anniversary of Hurricane Katrina’s catastrophic effect on New Orleans.
In the last days of August, 2005 I watched and listened in horror as the tragic drowning of my hometown took place. My sister called me to give me a link to a New Orleans website which was airing footage of our old neighborhood, close to Lake Pontchatrain . Our family home was less than a block away from where there was a break in the London Avenue Canal. We saw the shots taken from the helicopter of the home we grew up in, with water up to the roof.

Then over the next few days my horror and grief turned to disbelief and anger at our government’s lack of response to the catastrophe. In memory of the lives lost and forever changed due to Katrina and to the increasing and urgent need for change in how we live on the earth, I send out this prayer I wrote to Mother Earth during the unfolding of the tragedy in New Orleans.

Dear Mother Earth,

"Giving Thanks" - this expresses a feeling of supplication to a greater power.

I am so grateful for the abundance you have bestowed on your children for so many millennia. Through the use of your rivers and seas, your minerals, plants and trees, we have lived and died, creating empires and wealth.

I am so very sorry for the arrogance and greed with which we have used and abused your body.

I am so very sorry that we have valued our own comfort over your protection.

I am so very sorry that many of your children have used your wealth to hold power over and to oppress your other children.

And now we see your anger as you rise up. Your rivers, oceans, valleys and mountains are on the move. As you move, seeking a lost balance, you destroy our cities and kill your children, who have abused you for so long.

The pain and destruction, the misery that your children have wrecked upon each other and upon your body, weighs heavy like a stone in my heart. A river of tears washes over me as your waters wash over my hometown, drowning her in a toxic flood, a cataclysm of natural and manmade orders.

We beg for mercy.
Be as gentle as you can as you cleanse your body of the toxins we have stockpiled here.

For those of us who are sacrificed in these times of great change, please accept our bodies back into your deep womb. Nourish and enlighten us to a rebirth into a new way of being and living in harmony with your rhythms.

And for those of us who survive, please provide the means through which our hearts can open to love. Help us to find our way out of the desert of greed and selfishness and into a new dawn of compassion, harmony and peace.

 

Inspired by Nature on the Greek Island of Lesbos

Molivos Seascape

I’ve just returned from 3 ½ weeks on the Greek island of Lesbos. I lived on this island, in the village of Molivos, in the late 80’s and had the opportunity to teach in a creativity workshop there in the late 90’s. This was my first time back in eleven years. Lesbos is a place that always holds a piece of my heart. I have a hard time closing my eyes when there, as I want to drink in the beauty and hold it firmly in my heart. I believe that’s the case not only because of the astounding and dramatic beauty of Lesbos, but also because my first experience of the place was when their agrarian economy was first beginning to change to a mass tourist economy. In the late 80’s we still ate locally and lived by the seasons . There was still a feeling of magic in the land.

In ancient times, when the Goddess was worshipped as the power who represented the web of life, I believe people lived in a sacred connection to the land. No one took vacations to get away from their hectic urban lives. People lived day by day with a feeling of oneness with their environment. Perhaps they didn’t have the physical comforts that we have, but they did have a sense of connection with the Earth, our material source, that we modern people have lost.

The sun sets slightly north of the harbor – red ball sinks behind dark green trees sprouting from the top of the hill. This evening I gaze at the sea encircled by the hills who meet the soft pink band of the sky where it the meets the sea. The sea moves and shifts this way and that way, painting ever moving bands and circles of silver white against deep deep blue. I sense Her presence as I move with Her Oneness. The sea’s movement is like the gentle movement of breath. I feel the back and forth pulling me in and in to the oneness of Her being, as the soft breeze caresses my body. Peace, joy, beauty, surround, engulf me.

Yes, ancient Lesbos, created millions of years ago by a huge volcanic eruption still has the power to hold my modern heart. Then at some later ancient date the sea rushed in, separating Lesbos from the mainland of what is now Turkey. Though the booming tourist economy of the past 20 years has certainly resulted in more building development and destruction of some of the important wetlands on the island, there is still a lot of wild, raw beauty left. I can lie on the stone beach at Eftalou with olive tree covered hills behind me rolling down to the beach and the deep blue Aegean in front of me. As I lie there, I feel the heat from the stones as if the Mother is warming my soul. My eyes gaze out on the same level as the sea and I can see the coast of Turkey only 4 nautical miles off in the distance. These moments are sublime. I feel myself to be one with the earth, sky, sun and sea. I feel myself part of the great circle of life.

A view of the village from the harbor.

Now my head is bursting with images longing to fling themselves out onto canvas. My jet lag is almost over and I’ll get to work in my studio very soon.

Lessons in Patience

“Have patience with all things, but chiefly have patience with yourself. Do not lose courage in considering your own imperfections but instantly set about remedying them – every day begin the task anew.”
Saint Francis de Sales (1567 – 1622)

With each passing year our lives seem to move faster and faster and thoughts on practicing patience have become almost quaint. Having spent the past year teaching art and graphic design to 9th and 10th grade students, the concept of patience has entered my mind frequently. I’ve never considered myself a very patient person. I’m a Gemini and thus by nature move quickly from thing to thing. Ideas fly into and out of my mind quicker than I can ever act on them. And for the ideas I do act on, I always expect them to be brought to completion much more quickly than realistically possible. Though I did raise a son and certainly had lessons in patience with that experience, a full year of teaching teenagers raised the bar on my ability to practice patience.

Both the tree and the spiral seem to emmanate the essence of patience to me.

This quote on patience expresses very well an attitude I tried to impress on my students. “If I have ever made any valuable discoveries, it has been owing more to patient attention, than to any other talent.” Isaac Newton (1642 – 1727). With almost every project I gave the students, many of them would whip a few lines onto the paper and them proclaim “Miss, I’m finished”. They soon came to hate my response, “That’s a wonderful beginning!” I worked hard to help them be able to see, both the world around us and the potential in their drawings. I offered suggestions helping them to see how with more “patient attention” to their artwork they could turn it into a unique and wonderful piece. For myself, the process of creating art is the one place I have always practiced patience. But my students resisted my attempts to convince them that their works required more “patient attention”. At times I felt despair, wondering why I even attempted in view of their vocal and somewhat teenage style obnoxious resistance to my suggestions.

As the school year drew to a close I was amazed and proud to see the beautiful, well-developed art produced by both the drawing and design students. I learned that my feelings of despair were silly and something I could have avoided had I understood that with patience one can wait for life to unfold at its own pace. Small seeds were planted in my class day by day; seeds of belief in the creativity of each person: seeds of belief in themselves; seeds of the knowledge that each one has their own unique vision. Next year I’ll understand better and have more patience as I wait for the seeds to sprout and blossom in their own ways.

Tribal Self Portrait - Sandra Tucker depicts herself as an Egyptian.

Sandra is an amazing young artist who aspires to be a graphic novelist.   She definitely has her own style going but is open to learning.

Reflections on Darkness and the Light

Last Sunday was a gorgeous day here in Albuquerque.  So with a huge case of spring fever I took a long bike ride along the Rio Grande.  There’s a spot on the trail which meets a large street, so the bikers and hikers go under the road and thru a tunnel.  As I coasted down the trail, reveling in the breeze and the sun, I noticed the huge change when I entered the tunnel.  All of a sudden I was in darkness and, though it was cool and refreshing, the bright light and colors shining through at the other end drew me on.   It seemed like such a physical reminder, a metaphor for the lightness and darkness we experience in life.

Light and dark are the original pair in the duality of this physical world.  “And God said , ‘Let there be light.’”  We fear the darkness and yearn for the light.  But the two forces work together, creating the tension of our universe of duality, creating the experiences necessary for growth.  All of this is created by the One Source from which we come.

Timing is a very important part in the dance of life.  Spring, follows winter; birth leads to death and back to rebirth; difficult, dark periods of life lead to revelations and transformations.  The light and the dark forces move together in the world, regulating and holding the timing of life events .

Many ancient Goddesses are known at “dark Goddesses”.  These Goddesses, such as the Indian Kali Ma, the Irish Morrigan, the Sumerian Erishgikal,  and the Greek Hekate represent the forces of death, destruction, war and chaos.

In recent decades there has been a resurrgence of interest in the Black Madonna, the Christian version of the dark Goddess.  The Black Madonna calls us to embrace the darkness.  The rational western world created by the “Enlightenment” is one which has feared the darkness.  But before the light was the dark.  The ground of our souls is in the darkness, the deep well from which we spring forth, the dark womb which precedes life.  To avoid the darkness is to avoid the essence of who we are, condemning us to a superficial life.  Andrew Harvey says, “The Black Madonna is the transcendent Kali-Mother, the black womb of light out of which all of the worlds are always arising and into which they fall, the presence behind all things, the darkness of love and the loving unknowing into which the child of the Mother goes when his or her illumination is perfect.”  She is, “ “the blackness of divine mystery”.

The Black Madonna and all the dark Goddesses help us to honor the Earth and all the physicality inherent in the Earth.  The Dark Goddess helps us to understand that all endings lead to new beginnings.  She helps us to maintain a balance between the desire for transendence and a recognition of the beauty of this physical life.  Like the lotus whose roots spread out in the dark mud and whose flower blossoms beautifully into the light, the human experience must embrace the dark and the light in order to be whole.

Here’s a quick drawing I did after my bike ride which sparked these thoughts on darkness and light.  If you know any interesting links that show artwork dealing with light and dark

The Light Draws Me On

please post them in the comment area.   Thanks!

Why is Creative Expression Important to the Human Soul?

While facilitating a workshop this past weekend, I had a chance to reflect on the importance of the amazing stream of creativity which flows from the human soul.

We were a small group, 2 other women and myself, fluctuating between easy conversation and deep concentration.  The table was full of many jars of different colors of paint, assorted brushes, small palettes and paper.  After about 2.5 hours of painting, someone realized the time and was shocked that the class was almost over.   It seemed as if we’d just started painting, as if no time had passed at all.

The place of no time is one of the greatest gifts of the creative process.  The more we live in the moment (no time) the more connected we are to our authentic selves.  This connection, this living in the moment, leads to a sense of peace and well-being.

Sandi's Painting - she said she felt very, very peaceful by the end of the workshop

Sometimes that flowing in no time gets blocked by small negative voices telling us our art isn’t good enough. This can be difficult or painful but it is important to recognize these voices about your art as the same voices can surface in other areas of your life.  This recognition is the first step in quieting those voices forever.

Creative expression can help us to see the world in a new way.  One can get to a point with a painting or drawing in which you kind of like it but not really. In order to arrive at the jewels of your vision you must look at your artwork differently; you have to let go of what is there.  In a similar fashion, life often calls us to let go of habits and situations which are kind of ok but not really.  Regular creative practice requires a certain kind of courage which can spill over into your daily life allowing you to move from fear to fearlessness.

Getting lost in the flow of creativity can lead to a greater appreciation of the beauty of life which surrounds us.  Since like attracts like, being in the positive consciousness of appreciation attracts positive events into your life.

Creativity is an exploration of our inner selves.  More important than the products we produce are the insights we receive about ourselves.  Creative expression keeps us in touch with our intuition.  The better our intuition is, the easier it is to make correct decisions and move with the flow of life.  The  objects, which are a result of our creative expression, are beautiful by-products of that exploration of our inner selves.

Jose Arguelles, co-founder of Earth Day and author of  “The Mayan Factor, Path Beyond Technology”, calls for a world in which  “Time is Art”.  I don’t know about you but I’m ready to let go of the concept of “Time is Money” in favor of the concept “Time is Art”.

"Spontaneous Seed of Life" from my series of small daily drawings

.

Pierre Bonnard – Visions of Transcendence in the Domestic Life

While in New York in late March I had the opportunity to see the exhibit at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, Pierre Bonnard, The Late Interiors. When I first walked into the room I was overwhelmed by his incandescent use of color. The golds, burnt oranges and fuchsias of his paintings cast a warm glow which drew me into his world. I felt a sense of transcendence through the day-to-day ordinary details of life; a bowl of fruit, a view through the window to the gardens outside, a table piled with books, a cat and a dog and often hovering on the edges of the paintings, almost non-existent in their translucence, are the figures. I was in awe of his mastery of color and his ability to express the spiritual nature of physical existence. Being with his work is like a meditation which helps to quiet the mind and connect one with the moment.

Dining Room on the Garden

The notes accompanying the show emphasize the fact that Bonnard worked from memory. There was a small room which displayed volumes of his journals and sketches. Bonnard’s still lifes are more than still lifes of reality, they are his memories, his reflections on the passage of human life through what we call time. All of the elements of his work from this show indicate to me an artist who, on some level, was expressing the interconnectedness of life, the journey to transcendence in which we find ourselves and the indescribable beauty of spirit’s manifestation into this physical world.

During Bonnard’s life he was maligned by some of his more famous contemporaries. While Bonnard was focusing on the intense beauty of life his contemporaries were taking art apart and inventing cubism. They did not approve of Bonnard’s sensibility. “That is not painting, what he does,” Pablo Picasso said of Bonnard’s work, calling it “a potpourri of indecision.” Interestingly, although Picasso attacked him, Matisse admired and befriended him.

In his own way, Bonnard was a visionary painter, re-visioning reality. His compositions are as much abstract creations as are the works of his contemporaries Paul Klee or Joan Miro. But his views of domestic interiors have an emotional quality which convey the deep connection human life has to the sacred source from which we all come. Perhaps the fact that a world class museum like the Met put on this show indicates that the art world is beginning to let up on its obsession with form and concept over beauty and content.

The Joy of Spring

Tomorrow, March 20, is the first day of spring! I am always so happy when spring arrives. With the arrival of spring, I feel what humans have felt since the beginning of time; the joy of rebirth and a sense of awe and wonder at the return of the light.

Spring, of course, follows winter. The winter solstice, usually December 21, is the point in our earthly seasons when the sun is at it’s lowest point in the southern sky. It remains stationary for 3 more days. The nights are long and we huddle around the fires praying for the return of the light. At this time throughout the northern hemisphere, celebrations abound as we come together to reassure ourselves that life will renew again. Then on December 25 the sun begins its slow movement north, slowly giving us longer days and more light. Winter is a time for us to go inward, to deepen and to experience the mystery of the underworld. The seeds we plant germinate.

After that long season of internal work we get our reward. At the Spring Equinox we experience the resurrection, the rebirth of the light and joy bursts forth from our hearts. Flowers are starting to bloom, birds are back and singing their songs, and gentle breezes caress our souls. I even saw my first butterfly of the season today!

Garden of Light 2

Inanna’s Descent and Return – an ancient story of transformation

Continuing my musings on transformation, I’ve been thinking of all of the art that has been created over the ages by all of the different artists. Much has lost it’s meaning to us, but some continues to speak to the human experience. Some are so much a part of us that we forget their was a time when they didn’t exist. A saying like “A rose by any other name would smell as sweet”, or a painting like “The Mona Lisa”, seem to be part of who we are. They are the timeless works of art that transforms us and at the same time express our transformations. As the eons roll on, we live our lives going through many individual and cultural transformations. Every moment the cells of our bodies are dying and being reborn. In this world of opposites, transformation is constant. The universe is constantly creating itself anew through the process of birth and death and rebirth. Stars live billions of years and butterflies live a few days. Matter, which is formed from energy, dies, but energy lives and is reborn into new matter.

The many cycles of death and rebirth are played out in the mythical realm of archetypes. This realm is a visually rich field of symbols from which to draw inspiration for art. I was and continue to be intrigued by the Sumerian Goddess, Inanna. One of the things that I love about the Inanna story is that she is the Goddess who encompasses all of the transformations of a woman’s experience. Unlike the later Goddesses who are fragmented, Inanna guides us through all aspects of our lives; daughter, maiden, lover, mother, queen, holy priestess. Inanna’s underworld sojourn is courageous and triumphant. Hearing the call of the Underworld, hearing Her Sister’s cries, Inanna voluntarily descends into the Underworld, the world of death and dissolution.

The two paintings posted here are part of my Inanna series. The first one, “Inanna Descending” depicts the beginning point of Her descent into the Underworld.

No one can enter the realm of the Underworld dressed in their worldly attire. This paintings shows Her at the first of seven gates through which

Inanna's Descent

She must pass. At each gate the gatekeeper removes part of Her clothing. Finally, naked and bowed low She enters the throne room of Erishgikal, Her sister, Queen of the Underworld. Erishgikal passes judgement on Her, decrees She must die.

But Inanna is rescued and She is allowed to return to Her life in Sumer. The second painting, “Inanna’s Return” shows the first moment that She emerges from the Underworld. But no one returns unscathed from the Underworld. She is accompanied by the Galla. They are with Inanna to find Her replacement, someone to take Her place in the Underworld,. In order to transform, to reach the next level in our development, we must let go of something. Something must die to make way for the new.

Inanna's Return

In this world of dualities we are only aware of the light because of the darkness. Have you had an experience with the “dark night of the soul”? What jewels of light have been the result of that experience?