speaking surrender

I was offered the opportunity to decorate a rock with oil-based paint markers after commenting on one made by an art therapist whose work I admire. She explained to me how relaxing it is I’m sure in response to my fluctuating energy that was bouncing all over the office; the supplies occupied a spot on my desk for weeks. During one of my Thursday classes, a long suppressed meditation place resurrected itself from a subconscious burial site. With it came feelings of surrender. The next day I walked into

my office, turned on the computer, checked email then phone messages, and picked up the rock as if it was part of my everyday morning routine. Before I knew it, that meditation rested in my palm.

I don’t think of myself as a big animal person so when a dolphin leapt into my meditative vision one class morning, I took note surrendering to what it wanted to tell me. Dolphins then began to appear in various messages for several consecutive days inspiring an investigational dive into their symbolism. Several nouns popped up on the screen but only one, resurrection, seemed to bring clarity. While editing a photo weeks after the dolphin swam into my thoughts, there before me was a very abstract version of this mammal surfacing from forces beyond the camera or computer.

In a previous post, I mentioned and included a picture of a vision board I designed. What I didn’t say was this -- before I was able to put the board together, a collage goddess wanted to come to life and she was persistent just like her 69 predecessors! My eyes and hands surrendered working in unison with that unknown force that takes over when I collage as my mind chased behind wondering who was on the way. goddess in a bottle rose up big and bold with unmistakable power to honor the wishes of her maker and any other who gazes upon her.

This past Thursday, I hosted an open studio and while I enthusiastically encouraged those in attendance to explore the variety of media available to them, I had no idea what I was going to do once I got them started. Resorting to my comfort zone, I collected a huge stack of magazines. With each step towards my table, they began to feel like a burdensome load of bricks; no collage of any kind would be on the way. Momentary panic began to rise thankfully meeting up with an inner voice that encouraged me to open myself to new possibilities. I surrendered, got so into a flow. As I announced to the group that we had 30 minutes left, I hastened to complete just one more watercolor square.

I truly had lost myself to the freedom that an open studio offers and plan to go back as a participant to paint once again in the company of surrender.

My creative voice is speaking in many tongues. It will be heard so…

keep your peepers open!®