Thursday, August 30, 2012

When Obsession takes Hold....

This is the last day of my three day “painting retreat.”  I went back to the studio after worship (it was Sunday).  I brought my journal with me.  I sat in front of the painting and took it in.  I moved back to the far wall and sat with my back resting on the wall and journaled for a while.  I wrote stream of consciousness about these paintings, about what was happening in my Soul, about what I was learning, about what I was running into.

When I was done, I decided to commit to the orchid.  I took it down and put glue on it and stuck it up on the painting.  It did not stay.  I put more glue on the painting and the flower and tacked it up.  Slowly, little by little, petal by petal I was able to get it to stick to the painting.  After about 1.5 hours, I was able to take the tacks out and the flower stayed put.

That was all I did to the painting that day.  The obsession happened off the painting on the studio floor.  An image of an orange arrow began to form in the vision.  I sat down, took the left over pieces of my chakra painting and began to form an arrow.  I decided it needed to be a double sided arrow so that it could hang in front of the painting.  I painted it orange. But the darkness of the painting still bled through.  And this is when obsession took hold....

It had to be orange.  I mean it had to be orange, no darkness bleeding through.  I sat and waited.  I moved it in front of the air conditioning vents to dry quicker.  Once I thought it was dry enough, I attempted to paint another layer and it got all tacky.  

So I squeezed a lot of paint on each piece and using a brush very gently escorted the paint around each piece adding more as needed until it was completely orange.  

Once I felt like it was orange enough I began to stare at the painting to figure out where this arrow was going to go.  That is when I became aware of my obsession.  I was obsessed with this arrow.  I had some hold on me that was not good.  There was an uncertainty in my Soul hidden behind the orange of the arrow.

I sat next to the arrow and contemplated it for a while.  I decided not to put it up.  It was way too wet anyway.  I decided to wait until Wednesday when I would be back to paint again.  Let it settle in my Soul.  Maybe that uncertainty and obsession would dissipate.  So I packed up my stuff.  I took pictures.  I cleaned up the studio.  And I left.

I went back to my friend’s house and began to prepare for my upcoming week of travel and craziness.  But that arrow would not leave me alone....

After dinner I found myself running errands and driving way out of the way past the studio.  I pulled into the parking lot on automatic pilot.  I put my car in park and sat there.  I gave in.  I gave in to this obsessive need to complete the arrow.  

I went back into the studio.  The paint was 90% dry.  I picked up the glue and glued the arrow together.  I knew I would not sleep if I did not complete this task.  Once it was glue together, that obsession began to dissipate.  The agitation I had been experiencing all day lessened.  I did not find a sense of peacefulness, but more of a sigh.

The arrow was not asking to be put up on the painting.  It was just asking to form completely.  That was enough.  I could continue the conversation next time...

Tuesday, August 28, 2012

Can I fail at this? the wresting continues....

I awoke the next morning with an image in my head as where to start painting.  By now I should know better.  I should know that is a trap, a trap that will take me down fast!

The image was a circle (purple) echoing in a way out from the blood red circle, sort of like this:

But that is not what happened!  No.  My “echoing” circle ended up looking like half a heart echoing out from the blood red circle.  And I found myself in a ball of tears on the floor.

Not the way I wanted to start my morning of painting!!!

My broken heart up on my painting.  Ugh!

It had to appear.  It is the reason I was there on a “painting retreat” for the weekend.  I was there to work out some of my broken-heartedness and find peace in the midst of all these transitions.  So I sat with it and cried for awhile.  I cried myself out.

Then I got up, picked up the blue paint and began to form the purple broken heart into a purple circle, taking deep breathes and releasing all my tears as they bubbled up and out of my Shadow and Soul.

Then I turned my focus to the space under the red and purple circles.  A vine wanted to grow there.  I could see a beautiful flower blossoming out of the top of the painting, off the vine that snaked its way up the left side of the painting.  I began to paint the vine meandering its way up the painting.  I took the vine to the edge of the painting.  I allowed the “leaves” to spiral themselves into each circle.  The vine wanted more space.  I took a break to make sure and turned my attention to the flower.

I had my first three chakras painting with me.  I opened it up and began to arrange the paper into a format that would allow me to create a flower. I knew that the flower would birth itself from these chakras.  I began with a blood red circle in the middle.  Then I added white to make the circle mauve.  Then I began to add a purple of my own mixing to form the petals.  The flower ended up being huge.  I mean huge.  As I cut it out I began to wonder how it would go on the painting.  I began to find myself in my mind, nervous, not trusting my intuition.  I could not imagine it up on the wall.

So, I turned my attention back to the wall, back to the vine.  It did want to grow more.  I added paper and used blue to create the background.  Then I painted the vine up to the top corner of the painting and right off the edge.  I spiraled one more leaf at the top.

Then I added another sheet on the bottom of the painting, creating the blue background.  One more spiral to bring it all together.  Now the painting felt like it was ready to receive the flower....

But the flower did not seem ready to go up on the painting.  It needed something.  It needed to pop out, be 3-D.  So I went to work.  I began to crease the flower, fold it and tape it to form a more three dimensional flower.

Then I bravely tacked it up on the painting where I felt the invitation to do so.  And wow, my Critic kicked in: that was bad.  It took over the entire painting.  It covered the purple circle.  It stuck out way too much.  It was not right!

But I had put it up.  You can not remove something once it is up.  (Although I had tacked it up unsure I really wanted it there.)  But I followed the process.  I went and made lunch and ate lunch, came back and it was no better.  I rearranged my teacher’s paints organizing them by color, neatening them up.  Still no better!

It got worse, instead of better.  I sat and cried.  Worse.

So, I got up and painted a spiral in the middle of the flower.  Maybe that would make it better?

Nope!  Much worse.

Now when I look at it, I don’t think it is too bad.  It is kind of cool.  But in the moment I couldn’t stand it!  It had to go!

I broke all the “rules” to intuitive painting and took it down.  I sat it on the floor in front of me and cried and cried and cried.

Then, I looked up and saw an orchid staring at me.  Without thinking I began to cut up the purple flower and create orchid leaves. Then I painted it bright pink, the same color as the path.

I took a break.  I sat and read.  I emailed.  I uploaded my photos and posted them on Facebook.  I played.

Then, after the orchid had mostly dried, I picked it up and headed toward my painting.  I thought it was going up in the corner where the other flower was, but it ended up in the bottom corner directly over the purple star.

I tacked it up and left for a while.  I went and ran errands, got out of the studio and breathed some fresh air.

When I got back I loved where it was.  My heart was full of peace.   The painting seemed to be coming together.  I put a second coat of pink on the orchid to brighten it up.  I “fixed” the top corner so that the vine spiraled itself at its top.  And I called it a day!

I’m still pondering that purple flower and my reaction to it.  It was a strong reaction.  Something huge had bubbled up out of my Shadow.  This time, instead of accepting it and releasing it, I stuffed it back down deep into my Shadow to keep me safe.

Did I fail at my task for the day?  Part of me feels yes, I failed.  

Part of me is saying, “Be gentle with yourself.  You dealt with as much as you could in the moment.  It will return and you can deal with the rest of it then.”  I think this part is right.

I did not fail.  I can not fail at this process.  I can run into bumps.  I can run away from something hard.  I can ignore stuff.  But I can not fail.  That I have learned.

Here is why:  it will present itself again for me to deal with.  The unconscious will bubble that same thing up (maybe in a different form) again in the future.  There is no escaping that.  When ready, I will deal with it.  I will accept it as part of myself and release it into the Universe.  

I am learning that sometimes, however, it takes companionship and support to find the courage and strength do that.

Sunday, August 26, 2012

Wrestling with the Holy....

I am in major transition in my life.  

I am between careers and Callings.  I just ended one and am awaiting for the next Call to show up.

I am between relationships.  

I am between geographic locations, living out of my car and on sleeping friend’s beds.

I am living in the in-between

as Jacob was when he wrestled with the angels at the river Jordan -- half in Canaan and half outside.

That night, Jacob slept on the non-Canaan side of the river.  Jacob’s household slept in Canaan.  An angel of God arrived and wrestled with Jacob until morning...leaving him with a wounded hip, a mark of their struggle.

I stood in the in-between, borrowing my friend’s studio to paint for the weekend, knowing deep in my Soul that I was going to wrestle with the Holy as Jacob wrestled with God.  Earlier that day, I was asked by the Spiritual Direction program I am about to enter to talk about my connection to God.  My answer, “I am Jacob wrestling with the angel.  God is the angel.”

I brought all of my chakra paintings:  the first three layered one on top of each other, my heart, and my throat chakra.  My hope was to come away from this wrestling with one whole integrated painting...

I began by allowing the Universe to select where I was to paint.  I took my teacher’s basket of numbers and picked.  Thankfully I picked the large open wall.  I said a prayer of thanksgiving to the Universe and breathed a deep breathe of relief. Finally, it felt like the Universe was taking care of me....

I took my heart chakra and put it up on that wall.  Then I hung my throat chakra next to it.  I stood back and took it in.  It felt right so I taped them together and started my afternoon and evening of painting.

Those pink pieces of paper were haunting me.  But they were a part of the painting.  I left them alone.  I busied myself instead with integrating the two paintings together.  I began to use the different shades of blue and integrate the backgrounds of the throat and heart chakras into one chakra expression.  Then the flame began to migrate its base into the throat chakra painting. 

Then, I grabbed the blood red and “wiped” the slate clean.  I painted over the pink pieces of paper.  I worked at the flame some more, painting over the pink pieces of paper also.  When done, I stood back and took in the painting so far.

The background came together nicely.  I was shocked that I had not wiped out the star at the bottom, but had carefully and lovingly left it there...untouched.  I had been extremely careful to not touch the pink path as I worked on the flame and blood red circle.

Now, I felt like I was ready to address the flame and the “issue” of the pink pieces of paper.  They had to go somewhere.  And this would be my lesson for the night.  Accept what the painting wants, not what I want on the painting.  Accept what the paint wants to do, not what I want the paint to do.  Accept my life as it is, not how I wish my life had gone.

So, I forced the pink pieces of paper.  I put them in a spiral like I had wanted to the night before.  This time I consciously did not allow my unconscious to take over.  I did what I wanted to do with those pink pieces of paper.

And they formed a halo of the angel I was wrestling.  When I was done, I couldn’t get out of my head the fact that they looked similar to the brain-shaped labyrinths.  I found it funny how my unconscious still found a way to speak to me, to bubble up, to resist my resistance of it.

Apparently, I was not going to get away with ignoring my unconscious.  I was not going to get away from doing the work.  This fire, this circle, these pink pieces of paper had something to teach me.

Accept life for what it is.  Accept.

I’m reading this book on Centering Prayer.  The author writes this as she describes the process of letting go of thoughts in prayer:

“A surrender method is even simpler.  One does not even watch or label the thought as it comes up, takes form, and dissipates.  As soon as it emerges into consciousness, one simply lets it go.  The power of this form of meditation does not reside in a particular clarity of the mind or even in presence, but entirely in the gesture of release itself.....Letting go of a thought is a small but powerful symbol of our willingness in a larger sense to let go of our own stuff and return to that open attending upon God.”  (Cynthia Bourgeault, Center Prayer and Inner Awakening, p 20 and 26) 

The author then goes on to talk about how by freely releasing our thoughts as they arise in Centering Prayer, we are bringing our attention back to the Holy and allowing the Holy to reorder our innermost sacred self.  If we hold onto a thought or wrestle with something, we are holding the Holy at bay, keeping that moment of healing and transformation from happening.

This day of painting was about learning this physically through paint and paper.  The more I wrestled with wanting that flame on that paper, the more agitated I became.  I found myself pacing the studio.  I found tears coming up.  I found myself becoming angry, frustrated, unsettled.  I was pushing the Holy away.  I was not accepting that blood red circle for what it was.  I was masking it with a flame and pink pieces of paper.

I finally grabbed the blood red and painted over the pink pieces of paper and the flame.  I grabbed the blue and began painting over the base of the flame.  I took all “my conscious needs” off the painting.  I allowed the painting to be as it wanted to be, as deep down in the depth of my soul I knew intuitively it needed to be.

For days, I had been working at hiding that blood red circle.  I had tried to cover it up with purple.  I had put a flame over it.  I had put different configurations of pink paper over it.  But it needed to stand alone.  A big blood red circle in the middle of my painting.

It felt right.  And it felt unsettling.

This is the way I left it for the night.  Unsettled.  Simple.

A weight had been lifted.  I felt a deep inner sense that the blood red circle needed to stand alone, by itself.  That lifted a weight that I had been wrestling with.  I had finally consented to the Holy, accepted this as part of myself.

Yet, it haunted me.  I knew it was not done teaching me.  This blood red circle had more to disclose to me, more to bubble up out of my Shadow, more for me to accept and let go of.

But I was exhausted from wrestling for 3.5 hours.  I cleaned up and sat and took in the painting as it was.  I struggled with accepting the emptiness of the space the flame inhabited.  

I decided to trust the process.  After all, the process had not led me astray yet....

Friday, August 24, 2012

Struggling with flow of my throat chakra

As I mentioned in a previous blog, I had thought I would be painting all my chakra layered one on top of the other.  But that was not to be the case.  The previous week, I picked up new paper for my heart chakra.  This week, I choose new paper for my throat chakra.  My heart was no where near complete.  I had a great deal of work to do with that piece, so I could not paint over it, adding the throat chakra as a new layer.

So, I grabbed two pieces of paper and taped them end to end forming a long blank canvas to paint on.  It felt like the energy of my the throat chakra was more vertical than horizontal energy; like it flowed up and down my body more than out into the world at the moment.  That makes sense.  I am still re-rooting after tremendous endings.  I am still unsettled, unsure, foggy in my next steps in life.  So up and down it is!

What is interesting to me is that I did not stop during my painting to take pictures of my process.  I had begun a practice of doing that.  But for the last two weeks, I did not.  I resisted documenting the progression and process of these paintings.  It makes it hard to blog on after a period of time.  What it brings forth is the struggle and wrestling that went on between me and the paint and the paper and my resistance to what was bubbling up from my Shadow.

My teacher took some pictures of the process.  This is the first one she took.  As I look at it, I can feel the struggle and wrestling that went on in the first part of this painting.

I really wrestled with the flow of the painting.  I began by flaming upwards green.  Then moved into circles.  Then finally moved into a waterfall of blue downwards with a purple circle.  The purple circle started out very distinct then became more and more muted until it integrated itself into the fluidity of the painting.

Then black lines appeared distinguishing between the different flows in the painting.  I spent time working on each different “section” getting each one to flow well.

I added blue glitter glue to the middle blue section.  I worked the purple and blue together more in the top section.  

And then the black lines began to bother me.  They felt like they were separating out the flow of the painting, separating different parts of my Soul.  I decided to use white circles to attempt to bring the painting’s flow back.

I carefully and systematically added a white chain of circles all along the black lines from the bottom to the top.  I stood back.  It was okay.  But it was lacking something.  

I stayed there and stared at that painting for a long time.  I took it in.  The white “chain” was not working for me. The black was separating all the flow of the painting.  The painting was disjointed.  Something needed to changed.  So I took my fingers and rubbed them across the black and white and blurred the line into the painting a bit more, attempting to work more flow into the painting itself, to alleviate the separation that was there.

It did not really work.  I stared at the painting.  I stared at the paint shelves.  I stared back at the painting.

I grabbed a huge round plastic platter and rolled black paint all over the edges and put a huge circle on the top right corner and another one on the bottom left corner.  Then I preceded to create the purple star in the bottom circle.

The idea was great until it was done.  When I stepped back, I hated it.  It struck me strongly and negatively.  I dug out the spiral next in a desperate attempt to “make it better.”  As I expected it did not work.  It made it worse.
The next attempt to make it better was to put more large circles down the painting bringing together to two large black circles.  I started with a light purple and moved shades darker then back toward light purple. It had a pretty cool affect, but it did not take away that star and it did not bring the painting together.
That star.  It was to stay.  Time had run out.  Once up, there is no taking it down.  I was stuck with it, literally.
That star and I had to become friends before it would go.  I had to accept it unconditionally into my body and life, accept it as part of me, then it went on its way -- though not in the way I expected...  (More to come on that in future blog entries.)

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Lesson Two from the Obstacle....

My teacher sends us pictures of the painting so we can sit with it and reflect upon it for the week before coming back to paint the next chakra.  I had hoped she would neglect that ritual this time.  I did not want to see that painting each day.  I did not want to reflect upon it.  So when the pictures arrived in my email, I added them to my iPhoto and did not look.  Days went by, and I did not look.  I left them.

When I did finally look, I had a strong reaction -- revulsion -- to the painting.  I hated it!!  And I mean hated.

I know where that feeling comes from.  And the thing I have learned about this creative process is that the only way through that feeling is through paint and paper.  I knew I had to tackle Heart Chakra day #2.  I was not looking forward to that at all.  

I did not want to deal with that beam again.  So, I was overly happy when I arrived and the painting was down and folded up!  Yeah!!!  I would not have to tackle that beam.  But the Universe has a sense of humor and put me back in that same spot, literally, to paint that day.  Apparently the Universe thought I had not quite learned my lesson.

There was a difference though.  The spot next to me was full.  I could not hang the painting over the obstacle.  I had to keep it totally in my station.  That meant I had to change the orientation of the painting.  This was a cool idea to me.   I laid the painting on the floor and began to pace around it standing at one end then the other then back until I came to a place of which end was the top and which was the bottom.  Ready, I picked it up and pinned it on the wall.  It was a little too wide to fit in the space.  It went over into the window well and part of the window cill caused a bit of the painting to stick out.  I had to be gentle there when painting so as not to tear it.

I began with gold and put a gold circle in the top corner.  I added yellow to that circle to brighten it up. 

Then I turned to blue, many different shades of blue.  I went over the entire painting with the various shades of blue integrating them with each other, covering over the old blue, the grey (making an effort to not cover over the colored paper I had put there before)...creating a blue backdrop for the painting.  

Then my attention was drawn to the purple circle in the middle of the painting.  It had haunted me since the week before. 

I still felt that brokenness in my heart and wanted to express it.  The purple circle seemed like my heart.  I began to tear paper and make different colors and glue them to the circle.  The objective was to show brokenness and healing all at the same time.  But it was not working.  Things were getting all jumbled together on the paper, in my Soul.  Tears were rising.  I was going down, down, down.  Frustration was coming up.  This was not doing what I wanted it to do (which I realize is usually the case and the place where I learn a lesson).  

I had a “moment.”  By moment, I mean I lost it.  I got so ugh!-ed at my painting that I grabbed the blood red and covered over the entire purple circle and paper pieces and all.  Everything gone!!!  Frustration, anger, everything out of me... 

As I covered over the paper and purple I began to see where the torn up pieces belonged.  They belonged between the two circles, between the blood red and gold circles.  A spiral path started to form in my vision.... bright pink.  I grabbed the bright pink and began to create the path, painting and gluing each piece to the painting.  As I worked, I found peace.  I found direction.  I found inner silence.

Once the spiral was formed I began to take the path down toward the bottom of the painting.  The path was curving around the red circle when a green circle formed.  I stopped working on the path and followed the invitation to create the green circle.  I choose dark green and then lightened it up some with a greenish white.  Once done, the path meandered its way to the bottom of the painting, following the curve of the green circle.

I laid down and stared at the painting.  I took it in for the longest time wondering what was next.

My teacher joined me after I had been laying down for too long.  She checked in with me.  I was stuck with what to do next.  The only thing that came to me was fire; a flame of some sort.  Red.  In the bottom left corner.

Flames had been showing up in other work I had been doing lately.  Numerous flames.  I have learned that images migrate from one piece to the next until they work themselves out of me, until somehow I release their energy into the Universe and wish them well.  (I have not figured out how that happens, but it does.)

I grabbed a crayon and drew the flame on the painting, then I began to paint it in red.  It came up from the base, touched the blood red circle and wound around like a wave.  I ended up adding orange to it to bring more of a flame experience to it.

Then I began to feel the presence of those pink pieces of paper again.  I felt this invitation to create another spiral path from the tip of the flame, following the blood red circle, spiraling into the center.  So I started painting and gluing the pieces of paper onto the painting.  The paper did not spiral as I thought.  My unconscious had a different idea.  It burned upward in various lines of smoke from the tip to the top of the circle.

This is where I ended the night.  Those small pieces of pink paper unsettled me.  I had peace and inner silence until I began to work with the flame, blood red circle and those small pieces of pink paper.  The inner silence was gone.  And I was left feeling haunted...

I knew I would be back the next day, and the next day after that.  I had decided to spend the weekend painting my way through all the Shadow and pain that came with the endings in my life.  

So I ended for the night, trusting the creative process, knowing that I had just begun my work...

Monday, August 20, 2012

Lessons from the Obstacles in Life...

I had covenanted with myself to layer all my chakras on the same painting when I began the second round of painting my chakras.  However, the Universe did not want me to do this the way I wanted.  I arrived to paint and my teacher had taken down and folded up my sacral chakra painting.  I took this as a sign that the Universe wanted me to open my heart to new paper.

So when it became time to paint, I found myself putting together 4 sheets of paper.  Then I realized where I was to paint.  (My teacher believes in allowing the Universe to select where we paint.  She puts numbers in a basket and we all pick.) I picked a tight spot that really would not hold the size painting I put together to paint.  So, I choose to put my painting across two different “stations” and over an obstacle (a beam).  And thus began my heart chakra painting experience that took me down, down, down....

I started with a black line across the painting with a large brush.  Then added some circles in black and some black x’s.  Then the heart appeared.  Blood red.  Then I broke it, because that is how my heart was in the moment, broken, sad.  I used white which made the blood red a mauve color.  

Green came next.  Three different colors. The grass green along the bottom.  The dark green wanted to go with the black.  Then the light green wanted to go in the top corner.  

It was challenging to paint.  The obstacle, that beam in the middle of my painting, made it very difficult  to paint the way I normally paint, with my hands.  I could not put much pressure on the paper or it would tear.  The paper would not stay where it was, so making movement or shapes was challenging because I did not know how it would come out.  I could not get paint to meld together.  It just was not working.  I was getting very very frustrated and angry and short-tempered!!

What color is frustration, anger, short-tempered? my teacher asked. Blue!  So I started putting blue all over the right side of the painting.  It was not working.  I could not get the various shades of blue to come together.  I could not get the paint to smear and move on the paper.  The painting kept coming off the wall because I would put too much pressure. 


I moved to the other side and attempted the same thing.  And, of course, it did not work.  I ran into the same problems.  I also could not get the colors to come together in the middle.  I got so frustrated that I grabbed the black paint brush and painted the left half black and left the right half blue.  

It felt like I was painting two different paintings.  So I made it look like I was painting two different paintings.  Then I flopped on the floor in frustration and anger and tears came and I was stuck flat on the floor (literally).

My teacher reminded me not to be attached to the story.  She asked me what I could do.  I told her paint the whole damn thing black!  She thought that was not the best idea,  it was a cope out.  And it was.  I was battling my obstacle.  

When I finally moved off the floor it was purple that I grabbed.  I made the heart into a purple circle.  I covered it over.  It was hard to make a circle.  The paper kept giving me a challenging time.  It kept coming off the wall.  I couldn’t get the circle in the middle of the paper.  I couldn’t get it to look round.  Frustration again!!!

Finally I just gave in.  I gave in to the fact that this obstacle was not allowing me to take my normal route.  I had to be creative and paint a different way.  Ah, the lesson....

Once I did that, once I breathed that awareness in; something changed.  

I learned that putting a massive amount of paint on and gently guiding the paint where it wanted to go worked.  The circle formed.

I then wanted the black gone.  I grabbed the white and just put massive amounts of white over the black creating grey.  

I wanted color.  I wanted a reflection of this new learning:  that I need to open my heart to a new creative way of being in the world.  So I grabbed paper.  I began tearing it into pieces.  I smeared it in my pallet and smacked that paper on the painting.  It did indeed bring color.  I did not try to stop the drips.  They were bringing additional color.  I just allowed it to do what it wanted.  I allowed the paper to tear the way it wanted.  I allowed the color to mix on the paper the way it wanted.  I gave in to the paint, paper, and process.  I released my anger and frustration.  I let go....  finally....

When I was done, I stepped back.  I have to say I was unhappy with this painting.  I did not like it.  I strongly disliked it.  It was horrible, my Critic said.

It was not horrible.  It was still split in two.  And half of it was torn into pieces.  I had indeed painted my heart in the moment.  

That morning, I had moved out of my apartment completely. The life I had known for the past 10 years has ended.  The partnership ended.  I became homeless living between friend’s houses.  I gave up my dog, my adventuring companion.  I am alone. 

Part of me had already processed a great deal of this movement in my life, had processed the death of it.  Hope was there.  Color was there.  Transformation was beginning.  A new Call has been experienced.

But a huge part of my heart had not quite realized what leaving, really truly leaving would be like.  That day when I closed the door to my old apartment, keys and pup inside, me outside my heart broke like it had never broken before.  I sat on the steps and sobbed.  The pup laid on the other side of the door and whined.  I cried harder and harder and harder.

As I look at this painting today, reflecting back upon the night I painted it, I captured the moment, the sadness, the brokenness, the tearing.  All of it, through paint and paper.  

I learned that to overcome this obstacle of brokenness I needed to be open to transforming the way I am in the world.  If I do not want to manifest the same thing a third time, I have to go about it a different way.  If I want to move into Future Me, I need to open myself to creative ways of being, creating, healing, living, manifesting in this world.

So be it!  Lesson learned....