God speaks to me through the roar of an ocean and the wind's whisper in a forest.  It's a message that rings true in my heart and mind.  Know that I am God.

As I stand at the edge of the land and sea, I find comfort in His never changing ways. With every crashing wave, He declares His authority- and it's good and merciful.

This is the message that I've known all my life.  I cling to its power and truth when I feel the world's darkness and grief surround me. 

As a pastor's wife, I am constantly encountering stories of heartbreak and suffering.  Abusive relationships, neglected children, addictions, cronic illnesses, and more.  It's a side of my life that's never shared on the blog, yet it's such a significant part of my life.

He only is my rock and my salvation, my fortress; I shall not be shaken. 

Life is messy, and through my faith and art, I try to find clarity, order, and hope.  Often times it's the simple things in life, like watching a sunset, that reminds us of our Maker and His faithfulness to us. 

maybe it's a sign

Beach Sky, acylic and gouache on panel, 6 x 12 inches.

Still Lake, mixed media on birch panel, 10 x 10 inches. Sides have been stained and sealed.

Oceanside, mixed media on birch panel, 8 x 10 inches.

Canyon River, mixed media on panel, 12 x 16 inches.

Four new paintings of mine just arrived in London for Lilk Gallery's May show.  Three of the works are inspired by places I've visited.  Oceanside, for example, is named after a small beach town in Oregon.  Canyon River is unique from the others, because it came from my imagination rather than an experience.  I had this image in my head of a canyon with red walls and a clear river cutting through it.  It stood out to me because I usually paint scenes from the pacific northwest. 

I've been to the southwest a few times, but this imagery didn't emerge from a memory.  The colors and even the slope of the rock walls are different from the canyons I've explored.   

I created this painting before planning a trip to Arizona, so maybe it's a sign.  I am headed to Sedona, which is famously known for red rock formations.  It's also considered a very spiritual place.  My friend mentioned there are several different "vortex" sites- places where the earth's energy is greater.  I guess some folks have had some very moving experiences in these places.

I'm not sure what I think about this vortex stuff, but I don't doubt that people have spiritual encounters in nature.  When you are surrounded by grand, sweeping landscapes- and man had nothing to do with its creation- it seems only natural that one would reflect on things that transcend us.  I definitely feel closer to God when I am in nature.

new work

new print, Destiny

I finished a new painting this week.  I initially wanted to call it Journey Home and then my husband said that it sounded like a movie about a lost dog and cat.  So Destiny it is. 

Whenever I paint a mountain in a scene, I typically imagine myself on a trail coming towards it . . . as if I'm being called to it.  Mountains have a deeper meaning for me than just mighty forces of nature.  They are a representation of God and His mighty nature.  I believe that God is all around us, but there's something about being on a mountaintop that does make me feel closer to Him.  And I don't think it's by coincidence that God reveals Himself and His plan for His people on mountains. It was on a mountain, after all, where God tested Abraham, spoke to Moses, and where Jesus was transfigured.

mini-painting, night radiance

work in progress

Although mountains are a favorite subject of mine to paint, I took a break from it one day this week and started this ocean scene.  Painting the ocean can be intimidating, or maybe that's just how I feel when I'm standing in front of it.  A mountain is still, whereas the ocean is constantly in motion.

I'm happy that this painting has come along rather smoothly.  I think I'll continue with the ocean theme with the next wood panel piece.

Starting in April, my art will be on display in Grand Central Bakery on Hawthorne.  So this new painting will be part of the show. 

living in a broken world

The tears flowed down my face when I heard there was another school shooting.  Like any other parent watching Friday's tragedy unfold, I thought of my own children.  And on the heels of a Portland mall shooting just three days prior, it's hard not to fall into a dark place of hopelessness.
 
The recent devestating news reminds me of a similar tragedy- the school shooting at Thurston High School in May of 1998.  I was a high school art teacher at the time, but at a school across town from Thurston High.  There was a district-wide lockdown, and I spent the five hours in a locked classroom helping students process a gamut of emotions.   

A year later, there was a mass shooting at Columbine High in Colorado.  My husband's friend happened to be in the school's cafeteria that day.  He helped get kids to safety.

Thurston, Littleton, Newtown- these are small communities, yet so many of us have been personally impacted by their tragic stories.  I want to believe that we've seen the last of these senseless killings, but we live in a broken world.  So I turn to God for hope, for He brings light into a dark world.  In fact, He willingly entered a dark world to love it and save it. 

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.  John 1:5 

Rembrandt, Adoration of the Shepherds, oil on canvas, 1646. National Gallery London.

 

in the little details

My brain is on constant overdrive.  Sometimes it thinks so loudly my husband tells me to turn it off.  Being out in nature is actually one of the few things that relaxes me.  There's something about the roar of the ocean or the sound of the wind in the trees that subdues my mind.

In His created beauty, God calls out to me to be still.  And I listen so that I can see.  I see all the wondrous ways He created this earth, and it's a reminder of how much He cares for me.  The tiniest pebble on a beach can have beautiful markings.  If He cares about these little details, I know that even the most insignificant things in my life matter to Him.   

a new beginning

Caldera, mixed media, 18 x 18 inches, 2012

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us.

A Tale of Two Cities, Charles Dickens

Originally penned to describe pre-French Revolutionary times, Dickens' words are poignant today.  Just browse the daily headlines to find stirring stories depicting our precarious times. Thanks to fiber optics, within moments I can go from complete elation to utter disgust and hopelessness.

Sometimes, the insanities of this world are too much for me to handle, and I feel an overwhelming sense of despair and sadness.  I don't lament very often for my own hurt, but my heart weeps for the world every day.

I hold my girls tightly and look to my husband for reassurance.  But, often times, this isn't enough.  So I pray, and I paint in silence. 

Painting has become a time for me to connect with God, and I turn to Him for inspiration, peace, and purpose.  Like the majestic mountains and vast seas around me, God is my constant.  And knowing this is what grounds me.

    A voice says, “Cry!”
        And I said, “What shall I cry?”
    All flesh is grass,
        and all its beauty is like the flower of the field.
    The grass withers, the flower fades
        when the breath of the LORD blows on it;
        surely the people are grass.
    The grass withers, the flower fades,
        but the word of our God will stand forever.

                                                                                                 - Isaiah 40:6-8

People have described my art as calm, mysterious, and bold, and these are all qualities I would use to describe God.  Recently, I had a revelation about my art.  My landscapes are not just pictures of scenic mountains and waters- they are a portrait of God's character.

A new year is beginning, and, frankly, I expect the headlines of 2012 to look no different than the years before.  This can be a defeating thought if it weren't for my faith in a Creator.  This year, in quiet moments of creating, my hope is that God will continue to transform my heart and use my art to impact those around me.

I'm not one to make new year's resolutions, but if I were to choose one for the blog, it would be for more transparency.  It's fun to look at pretty things, but art is definitely more than just aesthetics.  Often times the creative process is a time of personal and spiritual reflection.  Even as I write this, there is a tinge of discomfort at the thought of being more transparent, but I recognize the value of openness and genuineness in an avatar driven virtual reality that we call the internet.

Thanks to all who have supported my creative journey the past couple of years. Your steady readership and comments have been a huge source of encouragement!  I enjoy meeting followers of this blog, so if you have yet to comment, feel free to just say hello from wherever you are : ) 

Many blessings to you and yours in the upcoming year,

Cathy