Twenty-third Psalm Painting

Psalm 23:4

I mentioned in my March 6th blog the way I paint looks differently now.

I used to paint lots of pet portraits, still life and landscapes. And I still love those subjects and love to paint them, but God has been showing me a different way of painting. I’m not entirely sure how to describe what I see that He’s showing me, but it’s abstract pictures I see in my mind whenever I’m reading scripture or listening to worship music. I shared a little bit about it with my Isaiah 41:13 painting. The Lord has also shown me something when reading the 23rd Psalm — particularly verse four.

This May 16th will be three years since Jim went to be with the Lord. As that date approaches, I have noticed I’m feeing “heavier” for lack of a better description. I started feeling that way back in April — almost a month before the actual anniversary of Jim’s death. I think part of that feeling is the memories from this time three years ago of how horrible Jim’s cancer was — especially during his last days. It was heartbreakingly brutal on him, and devastating for our family to watch. We absolutely walked through the valley of the shadow of death with Jim.

It wasn’t until a few months ago that the Lord began showing me the “valley of the shadow of death” in my mind. Through worship songs and studying His word, I pictured that valley — where hope is lost, dreams are shattered, futures are spoiled. It’s broken and shattered. But you know what? We don’t stay in that valley of death and destruction according to Psalm 23:4. David states in this verse what he knows to be true of the Lord — “even though I walk THROUGH the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil for YOU ARE WITH ME.” Two hopeful promises — we walk THROUGH, which means we don’t live there, and the Lord is WITH us as we go through it.

This brings SO MUCH HOPE. We are not alone even in the very worst times of our lives. In all the heartache I went through, the Lord was walking with me through it all. He is with me, was always with me, will always be with me.

So — the painting. In my mind I saw the valley of the shadow of death — broken, chaotic, dark. But on both sides of this valley there is light because it wasn’t always death and it won’t always be death. The line through the valley from light into the valley back into light is the path — where I walked before, during and after. The metallic gold represents the Holy Spirit who was always with me — even in the worst moment of my life.

The painting depicts hope even in the midst of despair. I hope and pray that you grow deeply in your relationship with the Lord who will never leave you or forsake you — who will always hold your right hand and walk with you THROUGH the darkest valley.

All glory to the Lord who loves me forever and ever.

The Way I Paint Looks Differently Now

Grief has broken me.

Do you know what Kintsugi is? It’s the Japanese art of taking broken tea bowls and piecing them back together with gold. Even though they are broken, their scars are filled with gold making them even more valuable than before.

I feel like this is what I look like now — broken. I look at myself in the mirror and I don’t even look like the same person I was before Jim died. It’s really quite strange. But on the inside, where it counts, Jesus has taken those broken pieces of my life and He is filling them up with Himself to remake me. I am scarred — but the scars show the absolute beautiful love of God who is mending me.

Part of that broken, unrecognizable person I have become has developed a new way of seeing life — and seeing art. It began with a verse on April 20th, 2021, less than a month before Jim passed away. We were laying in bed listening to our nightly devotion before we fell asleep. Jim was on my right and we were holding hands — he was holding my right hand. The verse that night was “For I am the Lord your God who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you.” Isaiah 41:13. When I heard that verse, I squeezed Jim’s hand with my right hand. I knew I wouldn’t have Jim’s hand forever so I held it tightly and committed that feeling to memory. Since he has passed away, every time I hear that verse, I still imagine squeezing Jim’s hand, feeling his hand in mine. But now his hand is gone. 

But God’s hand is there in its place.

At some point not long after Jim’s death in 2021, God showed me an image of that verse in my mind and I made a quick painting of it. The painting is representational of a hand reaching up and God’s hand reaching down. I painted it quickly on a small canvas and painted the verse on the canvas where it could be seen as part of the painting. I held onto that image for a long time and I just kept thinking about it. Then God started showing me other images when I was reading scripture, praying or singing to the Lord. It’s actually been pretty exciting for Him to reveal scripture, hymns and music in this way to me and I’m excited to share more of those paintings with you.

But back to how all this started with Isaiah 41:13. It’s 2024 and I’m just now starting to put this painting - my first painting from the Lord in this way - on canvas. So when I began to paint the image from this verse, I wanted to show it through time-lapse like I’ve done with so many of my paintings because I know people love watching the process. I painted 2 or 3 paintings and it never was coming out right. I would write the scripture on the canvas, then I would paint the background, then add the gold and then represent the arm reaching to the Lord and the Lord reaching down — and it never looked right. I’m reading a lot of Mako Fujimara right now and he talks about how creating art (as a Christian) is sacred. So as I became intentional about entering that sacred space with the Lord before I started another try at this painting, I felt the Lord say you’re trying to show what you’re doing instead of just doing it. So I scrapped the recording idea. And decided to enter the sacred.  Normally when I paint on something smaller and probably when I painted this first original and it looked like I wanted it to, I held it in my hands. I didn’t have it propped up to show off. And it dawned on me how the Lord has held me in His hands to make me into who he wants me to be. 

So that’s how I created this final painting and I believe that sacred process is why it turned out the way it did and why I’m happy with it. To tell you the story of how I made it — underneath is the scripture written in pencil. The background color I mixed to give a soothing, almost cloud-like peaceful heavenly color. I have added a little bit of gold just because the Lord is King and royal. What I’m trying to depict in my marks with my palette knife — I first started with my arm going up to the Lord which starts at the bottom left and kinda comes up. You can see it’s a thin line and it’s kinda weak looking. It’s reaching and you can sort of see where it ends but it’s just a feeble reach. But then I come down with the Lord’s reach that you see on the top right —the strong paint coming down and reaching. It not only comes in contact with me so we’re touching, but it’s reaching as well into all things. The Lord is in my future but he’s in my past too and he’s bringing it all together for His glory. It’s a promise. I see it as a promise from the Lord that I don’t have to be afraid. He will help me and He will continue to help me.

Thank you for letting me share the story of Isaiah 41:13 as seen by me. :)

God Heard Me!

The last week of April 2021 is the final family vacation we took together. My husband Jim and I decided to go on this vacation with our two adult sons, Hayden and Jordan, even though Jim was battling Stage 4 pancreatic cancer. The time there was bittersweet because Jim didn’t feel like doing any of the fun things with us, but in the early evening hours each day, he made a special effort to spend time with us as a family. I will never forget him doing that with us.

One of the mornings while we were there, I had been walking along the beach thinking of how my world was going to come crashing down at some point in the next few months if God didn’t miraculously heal Jim. Trying to imagine a life without Jim was impossible because I had been with him since the 10th grade. I was praying a lot on these lonely sunrise and sunset walks asking God to be with me because I really didn’t know how I was going to keep going without Jim. A few nights before there had been a particularly beautiful sunset and God brought these words from the Psalms to my heart:

“I remain confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.” Psalm 27:13-14

I felt like this was a promise from God in the middle of my despair. Even though Jim was dying, I was still living, and God was telling me I was going to see His goodness if I would wait on Him.

Fast forward to two days later. I was sitting upstairs in the bedroom beside the bed where Jim was laying. I opened my email to find a request for a commission from someone I didn’t know. Many times I have received commission requests from people I don’t know that have turned out to be scams, but there was something different about this request. It intrigued me enough to consider it and ask my family their opinion about responding to it. We agreed that it wouldn’t hurt to respond just to see what could come of it. 

Within a short period of time, I received a reply stating the person who was inquiring about the painting would like to give me a call to talk to me about painting something for his family. The person who wanted to call me was Dayton Moore, who at the time was the General Manager of the Kansas City Royals. I gave his assistant my phone number and she said he would call me later that day.

Something in me still wondered if this was truly real or if it was someone pretending to be a person I had heard of. I didn’t think much more about it. We had lunch, then the boys and I went out to the beach while Jim rested. 

I spent so much time on the beach praying for Jim’s healing, praying for the awful journey we were going through, praying for strength to make it day to day that I totally missed the phone call from Mr. Moore. I’m not usually a bold person, but when I saw on my phone that I missed a call from him, God gave me the boldness to call him right back, and he answered.

I apologized that I missed his call and told him what was going on. We talked for a bit and I could tell he was a man of God and that God had orchestrated this conversation between us. We talked about what he wanted me to paint and agreed to follow up all details with his wife, who is a precious woman of God and someone I have gotten to know better throughout the painting of the commission.

The Moores commissioned a painting of their son Robert, who at the time played second base for the Arkansas Razorbacks baseball team. One night earlier that year he had hit for the cycle — meaning in one game he hit a single, a double, a triple, and a home run. This is quite an accomplishment and the Moores wanted me to capture that in a painting. As big Razorback fans, of course my family and I had seen this game and we were so excited to be part of this wonderful moment in their lives.  Jim was incredibly excited for me! Unfortunately, Jim never saw the completed painting as I delivered the painting to the Moores after Jim passed away. However, he was able to witness in very real ways how God would take care of me after he was gone.

I was in contact with Marianne Moore throughout the painting process but when I went to deliver the painting, Marianne and Dayton were both there. I had been curious why, out of all the people Dayton could have asked to paint such a monumental moment in their son’s baseball career, why they asked me to paint for them. I’ll never forget Dayton telling me that he actually found me on Twitter because I commented on one of Robert’s baseball posts, and he saw that I was a Christian and an artist and thought I would be the right person to paint for them.

And there it was again —“I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.” God was showing up. My Heavenly Father saw my desperate cry as I was losing the love of me life and all the fear and uncertainty that came with that. He saw me and He assured me that He was still with me and would continue to be with me. He assured me that I could trust Him with all things and that He would never leave me or forsake me.

All glory to God forever and ever!

Contemplating Always

“Contemplating Always” - finished painting

Last October I had the opportunity to attend a workshop of one of my favorite oil painters - Anne Blair Brown. I started following her work several years ago, took an online class of hers, and finally had the chance to take a workshop taught by her last October at her beautiful Bluebird Hill Farmhouse in Tennessee. The workshop fell during the time I was in the thick of painting Holy Spirit Doves to raise money for the Wesley Ministry and taking commissions for Christmas gifts, so I didn’t have a chance to practice all the amazing things I learned from her until a couple weeks ago.

What I love so much about her painting style is her expressive brushstrokes, use of color and value, and ability to tell a story without painting every little fussy detail. Her paintings draw me in.

I want to share with you the complete process of my painting: drawing simple shapes, drawing with values, notan, distinct colors with gouache, practice in small oil, then finished product.

Above is my finished painting “Contemplating Always” painted in oil on 8x8 linen panel.

Simple shapes of the two small objects on a small plate on a small table

More detailed drawing of values and notes of specifics highlights and colors

Notan - Japanese technique of drawing the balance between dark and light in the subject matter

Gouache sketch figuring out some colors/values

Oil sketch playing with color and values

True HOPE during COVID-19

COVID-19.

As I search for a sentence to follow that, I’m blank. What do I say?

Everyone is talking about it or trying to forget about it. It’s all over social media. At times, I find myself wanting to practice social distance from everything vying for my attention on all media outlets, especially now. BUT, I have noticed a ribbon of hope in some messages out there. it’s this:

“I pray that God, the source of HOPE, will fill you completely with joy and peace because you trust in Him. Then you will overflow with confident HOPE through the power of the Holy Spirit.” Romans 15:13

Last summer when I was considering my next painting series, God put this verse on my heart. It’s actually a verse my husband Jim prayed for me and our boys. I wanted to pray this verse and paint a dove as a representation of the Holy Spirit. I knew I was taking a risk with something that was more overtly Christian than the hearts I painted last year; however, I felt like God placed that verse on my heart.

So I wrote that verse on every dove painting before I painted it and prayed that verse for the people who would receive it — all 75 of them.

When you write something and pray something that many times, you begin to internalize it. And I did. I began writing it from memory, pretty early on. I wrote it and prayed it in a cadence like this:

I pray that God,

the source of HOPE,

will fill you completely with

JOY and PEACE

because you trust in HIM.

THEN you will overflow with

CONFIDENT HOPE

through the power of the

HOLY SPIRIT.

I underlined “because you trust in HIM” and I circled “THEN.” I wanted to really study this verse to see our part — trusting Him — and what happened as a result of our trusting — overflowing with confident hope.

My prayer is that you will memorize and pray this verse, or another verse that God lays on your heart, during this time of social distancing and that you keep up that practice when things return to normal. Break it down, look at what it all means. Read it in context. Let God, through the Holy Spirit, speak to you through his Word. Don’t let any of this isolation or destruction be wasted on things that don’t matter but instead seek God and spend time with Him, growing in your relationship with Him, so that you may share the Good News of Christ to a world that so desperately needs it.

*** Please know, before I wrote this blog, I prayed for all of you who would read it. ***

Do you struggle with self doubt too?

I don’t have a lot of self confidence — never have. When I was younger, I loved to draw just for sake of drawing. I don’t remember being worried about whether or not my drawings were any good but just how much I enjoyed creating them. As I grew older, this (and many parts of the rest of my life) turned into a competition....and that’s partly on me and partly on the outside world. It’s easy to compare my work to others’ and see how mine doesn’t measure up to theirs, and this has been confirmed on several occasions where I entered art contests and exhibits only to get the dreaded rejection letter from the expert. Couple that with a perfectionist personality who never feels like I’m quite good enough and you have a recipe for failure mentality.

All of these thoughts were swimming in my head as the day approached for me to paint live at an event. Could I present a good painting? Could I complete it in a few hours? Could I handle the watchful eyes and comments? How would I handle the amount (if any) it brought in the auction?

I know in the grand scheme of life these are small things, but for me last Friday they were kinda big and new and scary. 

I had a realization a few months ago that me making art was more than just learning to paint better and sell more and all the things that go into having a successful art business. I realized God was using me and my art in ways for His glory that I’m still trying to figure out. My relationship with Him has grown a lot the past couple of years so it’s natural for me to include Him in all things pertaining to my art as well as the rest of my life. One of the ways I include Him is by praying, which I did a lot Friday,  and asked others to pray for me as well.

As I was telling some folks how I would like for them to pray, I said something God put on my heart and it helped me tremendously. I asked God to help me not equate my worth to how little or how much the painting went for. It would be so easy for me to think I was a complete failure if the painting did poorly and brought little to no money. But I realized something else: I would have thought in some ways I was the real deal and pretty awesome if it sold for a lot. But in that prayer request was the truth:   My worth in God’s eyes has absolutely nothing to do with what people think of my paintings — whether they think they are amazing or if they walk by them and never give them a second look.

God does not equate my worth with what I do. He loves me for me.

That prayer sank into me and I could feel true peace from God. And when the live event and auction were over, I can see how God’s hand was on me in everything that happened that night relating to me and the painting. 

I shared this pretty vulnerable story about myself because I bet I am not the only one who struggles with self doubt and feelings of low self worth. I hope my story reminds you of your true self worth in Christ if you are a Christian. And if you are not, I’d love to share what my faith means to me with you.

Ephesians 2:10

Painting a little differently

My latest horse painting is a departure of the way I have painted in the past with multiple, bright colors, lots of brush strokes, and the thickness of paint with the palette knife. I don’t know why the way I painted this horse changed. I wasn’t looking for it to change. But maybe it changed because of my return to the love of drawing horses and wanting to create something a little different than all the other things.

I experimented a little with another painting a few days ago — the painting of the face of the black horse. I like how it turned out: the way the paint was thinned and how the thinning of the paint gave the painting values (lights and darks). I LOVE good values in a painting.

When I painted that black horse, it reminded me a little of my underpaintings, or first layers of my finished oil paintings. I love underpaintings. That is where I establish my lights and darks. If the underpainting values don’t read correctly as far as light and shadow, then when the color comes in on top, the painting won’t look quite right.

Many times when I’m painting the underpainting I have stopped and appreciated what I see that no one else will ever see because I will paint another layer on top and cover it all up.

Which brings me to the way I painted this Blue horse. I painted the horse in one color (well, two — a mixture of Prussian Blue and Payne’s Gray). I left the paint at full strength for the places I wanted dark and I thinned out the paint (and even used paper towels dipped in thinner to wipe off color) for the places I wanted light. I wanted to see if I could take one color and make it work for the whole animal. And I did. I love the way it turned out.

If you have any questions about my process or have done something like this yourself, I would love for you to share it with me.

I wonder what color horse I will paint next…..

Rediscovering a childhood love

It took a trip back to Kentucky and a visit to the Kentucky Horse Park to remind me of a long lost love…

Horses.

When I was little, from as early as I can remember drawing, I remember drawing horses. Part of this could have been the fault of my older sister Susan who lived and breathed and rode and drew horses. But I loved them on my own, always looking for them in pastures, tv shows, horses races (on tv) and books. My favorite stories were always ones with horses, from C. W. Anderson’s Blaze series to Walter Farley’s Black Stallion books. And I loved when I made a new friend and discovered she loved horses too.

I drew them and drew them and drew them. And when I took oil painting lessons in the 5th grade at the Sherwood Rec Center and finally got to pick out the subject matter I wanted to paint, it was the Black Stallion from Farley’s book.

I lived and breathed horses and even though I didn’t have one, that didn’t keep me from imagining I did. I pretended to ride around on my imaginary horse and we had amazing adventures together. When I was in the 7th or 8th grade, my parents made my dream come true and they purchased a beautiful half Arabian/half Quarter Horse mare named Tyka for me. I loved her so much. I rode her, brushed her, played with her, and even got to enjoy the sweet little 3/4 Arab filly she had. 

Not long after that, as I was getting well into my teenage years, my interests began changing and I had less time for my sweet horses. My parents sold the little filly to a hippotherapy place in Sherwood (these were not as common back then) and sold Tyka to some folks north of town. I missed my horses, but I was developing other interests.

Life came along. I grew up. Went to college. Got married. Had children. These are all beautiful and wonderful things in the story that is my life. With all of this busyness going on, I completely forgot about horses and forgot about art.

When I started painting again (seriously), I had the privilege of spending some time with Laurie Justus Pace. I loved her artwork because she painted with a palette knife (which was so cool to me) AND she painted horses! I remember her telling me at one point (and actually on more than one occasion) that I needed to find my “thing” that I painted and was known for. For some reason I got it in my head that because she painted horses, that was her thing and couldn’t be my thing. She never said that to me. That was just a voice in my head telling me a lie.

So I have painted things I love: dogs and cats, hearts, lighthouses, landscapes, and doors. I truly love these things or I never would have painted them. But it always felt like something was missing — like it wasn’t really me.

And then I went to the Kentucky Horse Park July 24, 2019. And that changed everything.

It reawakened that love for horses I had so long ago. I guess I thought that horse-lover part of me was no longer there, but it absolutely is. And it’s exciting and hopeful. I wondered if I could even draw a horse anymore because I haven’t in probably at least 35 years, but I picked up my pencil and after a few tries, there it was….and maybe even better than before because I know a little more about composition, values, proportion, etc. 

It’s like it all came back. And I am incredibly excited about it.