The Creative Spirit

I'd passed the sign for a month, and every time, Asherel would tell me I ought to bring my paintings to that new gallery opening soon.
"I should," I agreed, since my book is still in the hands of the agent and no action seems imminent on that creative venture.
So while on my way to errands, I almost plowed over an old lady as I did a sharp right turn into the parking lot on a sudden inspirational whim.
I didn't have my paintings with me, but it seemed I was being tugged to the art gallery.

I saw they had indeed opened. A lone woman sat behind her computer, but greeted me warmly as I walked in.
"So you have opened!" I said.
"Yes, last night we had our opening reception," she said, "I am dead on my feet today!"
"Well congratulations. I have been driving by for a month and keep meaning to drop by. I am an artist....and I do work that is similar in a way to these....."  Glancing around I saw some paintings that struck me as having a similar gestural quality as my work.
"Those are really beautiful, by the way, " I added, stopping to look more closely.
"Thank you," she said, "Those are mine."
I just love it when I unwittingly give encouragement to others!

"Well I have an attic full of work and wondered if you would be interested in looking at it?"
"Our artists are all award winning artists," she said, not snobbishly, just stating the obvious. The work in the gallery was stupendous. "Have you won awards of any kind?"
I laughed, "I won 'best highschool artist'.....does that count?"
I think I won best artist in my middle school too, and designed the winning yearbook cover. I suspect it wasn't that kind of award she was referring to.
"Truthfully," I said, "I have won honorable mention in a couple of shows, but I don't enter many. Haven't in years. However, I suspect I am the world's most prolific iPod artist."
She tilted her head, peering at me.
"I do a daily blog and I draw on my iPod every day to illustrate it."
She pulled my blog up on her computer, and told me I should do greeting cards. People have told me that for years. She offered to market them for me if I got some ready. I may just do that, but for now, I needed to clean my attic.

"I would be happy to look at your work next week, before we open here," she said. So we set up a time, and then she took me on a gallery tour, describing each artist's intent behind some of the main pieces. Her own work ranged from detailed realism to broad, gestural splashes of paint.
"You have so many styles," I said, "My professor in art school told me that I had too many styles. He told me that I had to settle on one distinctive style, so anyone looking at my work would know it was mine. I never could settle on one."
She nodded vigorously and pointed at me, "That is just what they told me! And I refused."
"There are so many styles, so much to explore," I said, "How could I limit myself?"
"Exactly!" she cried, "Though I really enjoy the broader more simplified approach like this one."
"Do you know the Matisse sculpture?" I asked her, "I think it is called 'Woman'. It is a series of bas relief sculptures of the back of a woman. The first one is very detailed, very realistic, and each successive one is of the same pose increasingly simplified. The last one is of only 2 or 3 lines that give the essence of Woman.That is what I think art should attempt to achieve."
We talked an hour. When I finally left to hurry home to take Asherel to her first guitar recital, I realized I had just had a soul encounter. I haven't connected in my art spirit with anyone in years like I had connected with that artist. And I hadn't realized til then how much I had missed it.

Asherel had been practicing her song for the recital in her room for a month behind closed doors. I was anxious to hear her. Arvo had rarely heard her play her guitar. She has only taken lessons for 9 months and  we always finish practice long before he is home. I set my camera on my lap as we settled in the center front row.
"What's that?" asked Asherel, looking apprehensively at my camera.
"I am videotaping you, and that is that," I said, heading off the argument I knew was to follow.
She opened her mouth to speak, but I was quicker than even her photophobic diatribe.
"I told Aunt Amy, poor Aunt Amy in the hospital who almost died that I would videotape you for her."
Asherel closed her mouth around her protests, and slouched back in her seat.
When they called her up, she went on stage, and removed her guitar from her case. The case was outlined in duct tape, and a lovely duct tape rose adorned the top of it. She settled calmly on the center stage, like she had done this a thousand times, and played "Blackbird", by her beloved Beatles. It was so beautiful I would have cried, had I not been so anxious to catch it all on videotape.
Later I sent the video to Matt, my gifted guitarist son in his own right, and he wrote back, "She is amazing! May I post this on my facebook page?"  He told me if she continues in this vein, she could have a career in music.

As we returned home I got a text message from Jim, sister Amy's sainted husband.
"They discharged Amy. We are headed home!" Amy texted me a picture of her wearing the duct tape rose barrette Asherel had sent her.

I have often thought about what it means to mirror God, to become more like Him each day, which is my goal when all is said and done. We are, after all, made in His image. And I realized as I felt my soul sing in chorus with the gallery owner and then listen in delight to the skillful strumming of my daughter on her guitar that our God is a creative God, the author of Creation. Is it no wonder that our spirits sing when we yield to our own creative spirit?  I thought of the duct tape rose adorning the case of her beloved guitar, and the duct tape rose adorning the hair of her beloved Aunt and reveled in the beauty of praising God by using His gifts, like this daughter of my own heart.


Jeremiah 3:13
¹⁵ Then I will give you shepherds after my own heart, who will lead you with knowledge and understanding.