For as long as I can remember I've loved tracing my body, other bodies, body shapes in general. As much as I am over troubled by crime shows or horror flicks I have always enjoyed a good chalk outline on the ground.
My grandma used to go to the local newspaper when we were kids and buy rolls of newsprint (or maybe it was the meat plant and buy butcher paper). I just remember fondly pulling out those huge rolls and unfurling them on the ground. Tracing my siblings and cousins and them tracing me. The elation of the crisp line capturing my body.
PROOF! Proof of my existence here on earth.
For as long as I can remember I've loved tactile things. Texture or temperature. Anything I could touch. The matelasse blankets in our house. The velour cushions on my grandparents love seats. The nails that used to pop up under feet on their deck. Fresh snow on bare feet.
I can remember painting as a 5 year old with chocolate pudding in summer rec. Sewing with needle and thread enjoying a light prick of the finger now and again. Running baths so hot nobody understood how I could soak in them!
PROOF! Proof of the boundary they call skin.
For as long as I can remember I've loved to make marks. Crayons on the backs of old documents at my mom's office. Chalk on the sidewalks when we moved to town. Pencil or paint on paper. Brush mark or carving on clay.
I remember some one of the first times I painted something that was sold then hung on a wall. One second paper, next a painting then suddenly cash.
PROOF! Proof I am a creator.
This past June all of these things came together late one night. I sat down at my kitchen table to work on a Story Circle. I knew I wanted love at the center.
I drafted and drew.
- A perfect circle- unity, wholeness.
- At the center a heart- at its simplest, universal love.
I suddenly placed my hands on the page, tracing one then the next. I suddenly realized, this was me.
- Stars on the left wrist, I am of the heavens.
- Vines sprung on the right, I am of the earth.
- In my hands at the center of the heart, 4 smaller hearts. My husband, myself, our children- my everything's.
- A sky behind it all, the exquisite spaciousness that nature offers us.
- Clouds floating in areas, the inevitable storms.
- Raindrops as water giving life, tears as release of sorrow.
On and on I worked with no breaks until it was finished.
I remember that night tingling upon its completion. So many lessons revealed. I remember snapping a picture to share on social media but not fully understanding what the experience while making the painting meant. I removed all color with a filter and shared it late that night with the comment "Sometimes I need to step back and look at the experience in black and white." I tucked it away and haven't shared it since.
Something magical happened that evening that brought me the same elation body tracings and texture and realization of my ability to create. Looking back now I realize it was the same joy of proof I experienced in all of the instances mentioned above.
PROOF! Proof art connects me to me. A me I didn't know existed.
PROOF! Proof art connects me to spirit. The spirit coursing inside this boundary they call skin.
PROOF! Proof I am spirit!
I will share that I think we're all connected. I think you're spirit too!
Bringing us right back to the beginning, a perfect circle. Unity.