One of my out-of-town art collectors took advantage of my 12 Days of heART promotion, buying several new pieces. Yay! (Today’s the last day! See below.) As a thank you to that client, I decided to create a miniature of one of the paintings they purchased. I’ve never done that
before, but it was so much fun and it taught me a few things about art and life.
I have tried previously to copy some of my paintings. It never works, though, because each painting has its own journey and final destination. Though I may try to start in one direction, invariably something interesting happens that redirects my intention for that piece.
Besides the intuitive nature of painting that takes over, it’s also difficult to duplicate one of my paintings exactly, because of the layering and "accidents" that happen. Each painting I create is a culmination of layers and strokes that worked, over layers and strokes that didn’t work, plus elements that were added just for texture.
Each brushstroke, whether seen or hidden upon completion, is a significant part of the work and contributes to the value of what remains visible in the end.
On this tiny 5”x5” canvas, I couldn’t use many of the tools that I normally use to create depth, but I found other ways to build it up to give the appearance of multiple dimensions. To me, the hints and suggestions of what’s underneath are just as interesting as the top layer of color and composition.
Frequently, in my own impatience to get to the final layer, I forget how important the entire process of “becoming” is. Without a strong foundation, the surface of anything is just that, a surface. It's one-dimensional and lacking depth.
While I am freshly reminded of the importance of an underpainting in my art, I’m also remembering to appreciate all the layers of my life, everything that brought me to today.
I have often been so results-oriented that I rush through things to get to the desired outcomes. I lament having to spend time on the actions that no one will see, or on gaining experience to become more knowledgeable. It’s tempting to resist allowing time for practice of a skill, instead of trying to shortcut my way to mastery. But the becoming process is necessary and time well-spent.
Today, I can look back over my life and see all the things that may not show on the surface, yet are still adding value to my life in unique ways. Every experience, every circumstance, each relationship, every skill I’ve developed, every talent I’ve nurtured, all the hard conversations I’ve had, the tough times, the numerous failures and dashed hopes—they all contribute to the beauty that is me, that is my life. I am confident that each of you can look back and say the same. We wouldn't be
all of who we've become, without all of those things. That's our underpainting!
Your real beauty is not the package you’re in. Real beauty cannot be measured in values of color and size, but in years and lines, in lives well-lived and lives touched.
Your beauty is the sum total of what you bring to this very moment. To each conversation. To your work and your play. It’s wrapped up in your courage to try new things, your perseverance through hard times, in what you’ve learned, what you’ve chosen to forget, and what you’re letting yourself remember that you knew all along.
If we took all of the past away, the only thing that would be left is the surface of you and the shell of me. Personally, I’m not presently that interesting, without the rest of me and my beautiful baggage.
Gratitude feels appropriate in this awareness and I am thankful for all the “tools” that shaped me into me.
I often write sentiments, prayers, quotes and scriptures on a canvas as a dedication before starting a painting, and then I dive in trying to get to the surface as fast as possible. With this new awareness, I’m going to slow down and start infusing extra love and care in the first few layers of paint and texture, honoring how important they are and will always be, even when they get covered up.
Today, let’s think about our own "underpaintings." What foundational pieces of your life are contributing to your beauty as a whole, even if they’ve long been covered up? What layers added grit and interesting texture that still serve you today? What foundational “brushstrokes” ignited your passions along the way? What are the marks that enhanced your depth?
Be thankful for it all because all of it makes you the beautiful masterpiece you are today. And of course, keep going! If you’re reading this, there’s more to the body of work that is you.
I’ll end with two of my favorite art quotes that transfer to art of living:
"A painting is never finished - it simply stops in interesting places." Paul Gardner
“Life is the art of drawing without an eraser.” John W. Gardner
PS
See below about an upcoming .99 eBook promotion! And, if you didn't sign up for my invitation-only art promotion, it's not too late!
Click here to receive the special offers!
