Thursday, January 26, 2012

Speaking Art

Why do artists make art? As humans, we each have in us the urge to create in some form or fashion. Whether it's spreadsheets, layouts, solutions, building stuff, story writing, and the list goes on...we all can relate to our Creator God in that way. After all, we are made in His image, and we take the same great satisfaction He did when He saw what He made and that it was good. Now no one can even come close to God's ultimate originality, but we get a small taste of what He must feel when He sees his creation come to life.

We all receive ideas, information, messages so differently. A scientist might say, I don't get what those artists see. A musician might think, how can accountants sit and look at numbers all day? A small child can't grasp the advanced vocabulary of a college professor. A chef is appalled at the busy family who scarfs down fast food each night. We each have our own language, our own expression that gives us life and energy. We are each a unique and equally valuable piece of the puzzle, contributing our distinct gifts, no more, no less. At least that how it should be. But when we think of our gifting, or language, as the only or right way, we rob others of the joy of being their own unique selves. We all need to find someone who can speak our language for encouragement and companionship. We were not made to be alone. But we also need to be willing to learn other languages, in order to see through the eyes of others. Exhibit A, those economics classes I had to take in college did not make me love economics, but it helped me appreciate those blessed folks who do.

I once heard an episcopal priest say, "All art is speaking in tongues", which confirmed something in me that I've been thinking on for a while. Art is a language. It is a way of communicating something that cannot be written, sung, or told. It is spoken by some, interpreted by some, and received by some. Artists are often perceived as social deviants or weirdos that just want to make a statement. Although that may be the case with few, I believe artists have a gift of speaking a visual language that is profoundly powerful. Art's spiritual impact cannot be quantified, but the ripple effect of a moving, life-giving image extends beyond what we can know. I once did a simple painting, a loose interpretation of the star of Bethlehem, which was purchased by a woman who fell in love with it. Years later, that painting appeared to her in a dream that brought about comfort and healing from the tragic loss of her son. I'm so thankful for her sharing this story with me because, as an artist, I don't often see the impact of what I do. You see, I don't just want my art to be pretty pictures. I long for each piece I make to be a source of life, of healing, of restoration. For some unique reason, God has put in me (and many others) the language of art, and so I get the privilege of creating alongside my Creator, and allowing Him to freely make through me something bigger and more amazing than I could ever imagine.

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Bluware Painting

My most recent painting was done in less than 3 hours, start to finish, Saturday night. A friend from college invited me to do a live painting at his company's (Bluware, a technology consulting company)25th anniversary event.

This is the finished product. I was able to do a practice run at home before the event, which made a big difference. The piece will hang in Bluware's offices, so I wanted the feel to be technology related. I also loosely incorporated the company logo. The style of this painting is a deviation from my typical style, a more abstract but structured interpretation of the company's techie environment. It's 30"x48", painted with acrylics.

I have enjoyed painting publicly in the past, because it forces me to push through the times I just want to quit. It challenges me to paint more freely and expressively than when I'm in my studio, where I can carefully plan out each work on my own time. I love sharing my process with others, allowing them to be a part of the painting, from start to finish. As an observer, it's exciting to me watching a blank canvas come alive.