Painting the Feminine - Destruction and Rebirth

The journey we took together through Painting the Feminine, led by the huge hearted, vibrant and honest Connie at Dirty Footprints Studio officially ended this past Monday, February 2. But truly, when she offers it again, I highly recommend you take it, even if you don't think you can draw because art skills and techniques DO NOT matter. They really, truly don't. I have thoughts and feelings on what this whole journey meant to me and look forward to continuing the exploration on my own (with the safe space to continue to share my work and discoveries here on the blog and with my sisters in paint on our community page) but I will share those once I've finished sharing my art journal pages. Which will hopefully resume next week. My scanner has been giving me some trouble and photos of the journal just don't capture the essence of each image as well as I'd like. But I think I've finally gotten it sorted out, so I'll be on a scanning marathon this weekend!

In the meantime, one of the prompts that I haven't shared yet touched me so deeply and so heavily that I worked with it not only in my journal, but on to the canvas.

The prompt was The Fierce Feminine... in particular, the power of Destruction. Harnessing our Kali and Destroyer energies in such a way so they don't burn us out, but are beneficial rather than simply destructive for destruction's sake.

You all may remember this painting I shared a while back:

Some of you will be horrified to know that I mindfully and intentionally destroyed this piece, smothering her with gesso and modeling paste until the canvas was blank and textured; new and reborn. All 80+ hours of work and hands down my masterpiece painting, gone in a few hours time. Let me share why I did so, as recorded in the writing journal that's accompanied this journey through the feminine:

Destruction and closure came to me in a very different way than just in the art journal this week. It came in the form of a bottle of Gesso and the edge of one of those faux credit cards you get in the junk mail (who needs a palette knife?).

The painting is one that took me almost 100 hours to complete. It is filled with sweat, tears and so much raw anger, hurt and frustration. She tore from my gut and my heart like an avenging angel, filled with fire and poison, ready to smite and to kill after one of the most emotionally draining and painful periods this soul has encountered in its 30 years on this Earth; my longest and most difficult battle with depression, lasting over 6 months and nearly costing me every single loved one in my life. She sucked the last vestiges of the lingering feelings from that time out of me, like a great vacuum and left me feeling cleansed, renewed and refreshed when I had finished.

It was a year ago this weekend that she was created and it was this weekend that she has been cleansed, wiped clean. I was so proud of her when I finished her; she was both a technical and emotional masterpiece for me... the single greatest work I've ever achieved. But we both knew that I couldn't fully heal with the energy leaking from her and from me; that the old wounds were merely scabbed over and not yet scars. Looking at her was a painful reminder of that terrible time, not one that uplifted me and said "I made it!" but one that reminded me of all that I had felt. So I sealed that time and those feelings behind layers and layers of Gesso; I sent her off with ritual - with incense and with more tears, this time of the cleansing variety. The surface of the canvas has been cleansed and reborn and is now waiting to reveal something new to me when the time is right.

This was one of the most difficult things I've ever done; to in essence destroy something in to which I'd breathed life. But from destruction, so often comes birth and I know that something beautiful will emerge from her proverbial ashes.

***

And something already has. I've been working on a new painting on this canvas since our circle closed, keeping my painting practice alive in a different form... taking the time and space each day to connect with the Feminine and paint. I've been enjoying this new painting, singing and dancing while I break in new paintbrushes from the husband on it. This is the polar opposite of my time painting The Lady, where most days I dragged myself unwillingly to the canvas almost as an act of penance... painting this new one has been an act of pure joy and light heartedness. Going to the canvas isn't a chore, but rather something to look forward to each day.

Taking that brave step, harnessing the strength of the fierce Feminine to destroy something that I had created (which I have never, ever, ever done before) was an amazingly freeing and healing experience. Without that happening, I may never have fully gotten over that time or the fear of relapse. Now, without her constant gaze reminding me of it from the studio floor (I never hung her up but rather left her in the corner) I feel no fear or shame.

Here's a sneak peek at the rebirth, the Phoenix rising from the destruction:

Painting the Feminine - The Noble Path

This one gets real heavy. Fair warning.

The talk about the Noble Path of women being to hold space in this world and the subsequent painting unlocked something deep for me. The painting and reactionary journaling took me less than 45 minutes, but they were intensely emotional minutes as both the painting and words were more or less torn from me. I'll share what I wrote along with the painting, it's sort of stream of consciousness and very emotional.

The Noble Path - This piece tore out of me with such speed, lucidity and emotion, the idea of holding space within us being the Noble Path struck such a deep chord in me. That the womb isn't JUST to make life & isn't the only thing that this function isn't the only thing that defines us as women... but rather that it sits empty inside of us as a reminder of our calling as sacred space holders - to hold sacred, safe, nourishing space for ourselves and others.

Such a strong message for me, who always felt contention, anger and shame towards my womb. Me, the one with debilitating cramps, cysts and endometriosis - who hardened her heart and turned emotions to stone over the thought of reproducing... who was told numerous times my issues probably wouldn't allow for it to happen. I who made myself poisoned against having a child, who poisoned herself against her traitorous body - useless fucking painful organs! Tired of pain, wishing only to never suffer from the emotional pain of disappointment after so much physical duress.

I felt less than feminine, less than woman. Worthless. Why even try? Why put myself out there? Why set myself up to be the fallguy for further fucking pain? It took so long to trust, to break that wall down stone - by -stone. No one understood really, because I didn't share my shame... burying it under anger and lashing out whenever people querried when I might have a child. Fuck you. Just fuck you. But I did it, and I tried and I was the lucky one... I was SO GODS DAMNED LUCKY. Because, after that pain, that path of ruthless tearing down to claw back to trust, I'm blessed to have something growing inside of that womb of mine.

But that's not the end of this path, not the end of the healing of my feminine & womb energies... but that trust, that willpower to stand back up knowing I could get knocked down... that's a step. This child is a step. A step to being kinder to myself, to my body. To letting go of that shame and anger... that feeling somehow, like the pain - these issues aren't a ludicrous hateful curse.

This painting holds this space for that healing process- for coming to terms with that shame, that pain, the conditions the shock and awe I feel at having a spirit inside of me. The utter terror I sometimes have at that feeling; that I'll wake up and it will all have been a horrible cruel dream. The amazement that there's someone growing in that space I was told would most likely always remain empty... in that sacred, empty space inside each of us.

Painting the Feminine - Let Go

The Feminine constantly asks us to let go... in both little and big ways. It asks us to let go of perceptions, notions, stories, fear, relationships, comfort, jobs... and to simply trust.

For this prompt we "let go" in a smaller way, by painting with our non-dominant hands. For me this is my lefty.

The painting started with big bold shapes and strokes of color, easy to get the feel of with lefty. At first, I was squeezing paints in to the palette, washing brushes and handing them to my left hand with my right hand and all I was focused on was how uncomfortable I was. My shoulder felt jacked up, my wrist was uncomfortable.. my body was at a weird angle. I was fighting letting go by trying to paint with my left hand while everything on the table was still set up for the ease of use of my right hand! Duh, lightbulb! No wonder I was achy!

As I shifted position, I felt my inner comfort level shift and the painting followed suit. Finer lines appeared and shapes made themselves known and were more clearly defined. The finished piece calls to me with a LOT of energy, as if telling me to no longer cut off the parts of me that I view as lesser (my left hand, my achy knees, (as I'll shamefacedly admit) my inner lady bits which I've viewed for so long as a curse) and to recognize that all of my parts are enough. That by cutting off or viewing any of them as lesser, I'm only lessening myself.

Painting the Feminine - The Journey

I was fully integrated in the process of creating this piece, "The Journey". I kept thoughts at bay by focusing my mind on the sensations of the brush held in my fingers, the feel of the paint as it swept along the paper.

The painting surprised me, with its lack of female figure - with its bright green "tombstones" and great gnarly purple tree. This painting was 100% intuitive, I let it guide me from the get go - not pondering or meditating what the prompt "the journey" meant to me, but rather letting things unfold organically; putting things on the paper as they were whispered in to my heart. When I heard "crows!", I added them. When I heard "Lotuses", I added them. I didn't think about it; which takes a lot of effort for me.

To me this painting manages to symbolize how I feel about our journeys here through life:

This whole life, the whole cycle of birth, life, death and rebirth... it's all one big cosmic journey. There is no beginning and no end, it's an endless spiral or an unbroken circle; the walking of which right now is the entire point, not the future and not where we came from. Our purpose is the journey, not the destination.

***

This course is unlocking and unearthing more for me than I ever imagined it would. Not only is it reconnecting me with feminine energies be realigning how I grew up feeling about womanhood and healing age old wounds, but it is taking me deeper in to my spiritual path and understanding. It's incredible, really.

Painting the Feminine - Mary

The other morning, Connie talked to us about paintings that energetically attract us and how sometimes people really want to lay hands on those pieces. This really stuck with me throughout the day. As I got in the shower I was thinking about how often I got in to trouble at the Metropolitan Museum of Art when I was stilling living in NJ and visited frequently... because I'm an incredibly tactile person. When something touches me energetically, I HAVE to run my fingers over it. HAVE to. No ifs and or buts about it.

The prompt for our painting that day was to build a relationship with one of our previous works; to see which one energetically touched us in the same way as we spoke about that morning. To spend time with that painting, not fixing it, but working with it to further deepen our connection. And as I flipped through my journal and spent time with each page trying to determine who wanted to have a relationship with me, someone who I used to get in trouble for touching ALL the time kept nudging me... Mary. Whenever I went to the Met, I'd get caught up in the big Medieval galleries (one of my favorite periods) gazing at the tapestries and paintings... but I'd ALWAYS get caught up under the watchful gazes of the carvings of Mary holding her child that surrounded the big room. (Since rearranged, so I've been told) I could spend hours in there looking at each one, I must have a gazillion pictures of them all from different angles and I got in trouble frequently for touching them. I'm surprised they didn't have my photo hanging up outside the gallery saying "This girl's a handsy one! Don't let her near Mary, or she'll touch her."

But it didn't end there, because when they had the beautiful Byzantine art exhibit, I was drawn to her there too. I didn't touch those ones though; too many guards in traveling exhibitions. ;-)

Having had no Christian upbringing, I have always found this connection to Mary to be a bit bizarre, but I've gone with it. She's been appearing to me and I've been drawn to her since I was a little girl. Whenever she shows up in my life, I pay attention and always feel comforted by her presence. I enjoy her in all of her iconography and names; The Virgin Mother, Queen of Heaven, Guadalupe... but the one image of her that I've always been especially drawn to is Mary with the snake. In most icons, she's stepping on the snake which I've always felt a little weird about even knowing what the serpent represents in her mythos.

So, when she kept nudging me the other day, it was she who ended up in the pages of my journal... with one very obvious difference, the snake was carried by her rather than trampled upon. That Queen of Heaven; lady of comfort and nurture and hope working along with the ancient snake; herald of transformation, healing and rebirth.

When I finished I had a real lightbulb moment there in my heart in the story of my relationship with this particular goddess (because that's how I see her); When this Divine Mother Goddess is paired with the Snake it throws back to ancient goddesses, who were often depicted holding or wearing snakes, It brings the entire concept of Divine Feminine energy back home and full circle to me and makes my relationship with Mary seem less bizarre to me, the pagan. And though when I was younger I didn't have a name for my faith (or lack thereof), I felt drawn to and comforted by Mary - the only friendly face or form in many of the churches I visited; with her arms outstretched and her robes beckoning us in to the folds of soft safety and love.

Painting the Feminine - Rest

One of the hardest things for me to do, and I've noticed this for a lot of women, is to take the time for actual resting. Not resting on your butt watching television, not laying in bed working on your to-do list... actual, mindful, peace giving, nothing-doing rest.

It's one of the greatest gifts we can give ourselves and one of our biggest challenges. For me, personally, if I'm not doing something that I deem "useful", I feel like I'm wasting time... which leads to guilt. I feel guilty for taking a nap, for soaking in the tub for an hour, for sitting out on the patio just watching the birds fly by. It's been so deeply embedded in to my psyche throughout my life that I can no longer find the root cause of this guilt, but I acknowledge that it creeps up, unwanted, when I'm taking some soulful me time.

I'm trying to be more mindful of my rest habits, or rather lack thereof, and take at least a few minutes to really and truly rest. And when the guilt comes on, don't marinate in it or try to define it, but rather acknowledge it and send it on it's way.

Painting the Feminine - Play

Play was just a plain FUN prompt! No over thinking or meaning necessary.

I put on the Rusted Root station on my Pandora and just let the colors flow and unfold... all of the paint was applied with my fingers, squirted directly on to the page and smeared around with the edge of a playing card (of which I have literally hundreds) or splattered on with laughing abandon. Then there were scribbles of crayon and pastel. It felt SO GOOD to just let loose, not take anything seriously or deeply and just play with the paint and the paper.

No hidden meanings, no messages, no deep work... just painting like a small child and enjoying the process.

Painting the Feminine - Healing

For me, art has always been a sort of therapy, a way to release and the heal. Making time for my practice each day gives me the opportunity to release any junk and the heal my spirit.

I let my intuition guide me on this piece, just letting it flow out of me and on to the paper. It's not detailed or particularly polished, but when I look at it, I have a deep sense of calm and peace. And that's enough for me.

Painting the Feminine - Full Moon

The women I'm blessed to be taking this painting journey alongside and I all painted beneath the Full Wolf Moon the other night, with no prompt or theme, just to go to our journals and let our intuition guide us while the great mother's swollen form filled the sky with her light.

I worked entirely in oil pastels, with unusually, no music playing. First purple, then greens, in swooshes and scribbles and then figures in olive green outlines... women three; joining together beneath the moon near this ethereal purple tree. I was just tickled by this trio of women, with their very unique shapes, expressions and attitudes... it felt like uniting with a trio of wonderful aunties or fairy godmothers.

What I find interesting, is through sharing our works in the painting group, I'm not the only one who drew three cloaked women beneath the full moon. Even more interesting, another woman on this journey put her trio in similarly colored robes and also lives on the East Coast. Part of me wonders if we painted in tandum, being moved by the same call without ever realizing it.

Just another part of the magical and mysterious cycles of the Feminine and the Moon, I suppose.

I rather liked working on something beneath the moon and may incorporate this in to every month's observance and celebration of her, alongside the candles, whispered thanks and prayers and pulling of oracle cards.

Painting the Feminine - Shadow Dancing

Don't mind my fingers there, this one is a photo rather than a scan of my journal page.

As someone who has lived with and conquered depression throughout my life, I'm no stranger to the darkness. I'm not afraid to walk in to the shadows, to seek the dark places to seek out answers or heal. I'm as comfortable there as I am in the light, dancing between both worlds without getting trapped in either one.

To claim and face your shadow is challenging; it takes courage and faith that you will come out of the other side stronger than you were when you went in. It takes wisdom to traverse the dark landscape without becoming lost, to find that which you seek without losing hope. It takes strength and compassion for yourself and sometimes others, to overcome the things lurking there, waiting to pounce on you.

It takes faith in the balance of light and dark to know, deep down in your guts, that the shadow is a part of us all and that it is natural and healthy to travel and sometimes even find comfort within it's inky cloak. Following the cycles of dark to light is a trait of the Divine Feminine, as demonstrated by Mother Moon - who repeats this cycle each month.

Painting the Feminine - Come as You Are

During weekdays, we women who are exploring the feminine work in our art journals... but on the weekends we are called to work larger, on canvases, illustration boards or whatever else suits our fancy. And rather than all working with one central word/mantra/theme/whathaveyou, we allow ourselves to look back over the week's work and feelings and find something that really calls to us, or a common thread running throughout the five days to explore with our brushes.

Since Space & Ease touched such a fragile nerve in me when I worked on it Friday, I decided to continue to explore it on canvas over the weekend. I wasn't feeling too hot Saturday, but I brought myself to the canvas just as I was... with a big comfy sweatshirt, a big glass of water and sort of a shit attitude. The timing wasn't perfect, but had I waited any longer to start I would have ended up skipping a day and it is so important to me to allow me this sacred space for myself and my artwork, even when I feel like the funky stuff the dog rolled in. An important lesson that I sometimes overlook when it comes to this painting practice is "come as you are". Don't worry about the timing, the funk, the ick, your paints, your mood... just show up and make something.

So I took it easy; pulled a comfy chair up to the easel, turned on some fun music, turned on the little paper lanterns that I just hung up on and lit candles... transforming my space and just started with the first color that came in to my mind... the same dark blue you'll notice in a lot of my paintings from the first week. (It made and appearance today, too) And I let the dance begin, easy simple swoops and swirls, just enjoying the process. And before I knew it over an hour had passed and there was a faceless, ethereal beauty on the canvas and I felt the call of Divine Mother; who told me to go get some rest and take care of myself.

The second day went more smoothly; I felt better and got to the business of painting without dragging my bones to the canvas. And as I painted, the figure, with her calm face began to radiate her womb energy. And that's where she left me - Beginning with space and ease and ending with flowing radiance.

Painting the Feminine - Cycles

Getting to know our personal cycles is invaluable - it will tune us deeply in to ourselves and our intuition, help us understand why we function better or worse at times and helps us to be gentle and kind to ourselves. Our cycles don't always coincide with those of nature either, but rather are uniquely our own.

As women, we have so many cycles we can attune to; the cycles of nature, the cycles of the moon, our menstrual cycle, the cycle that takes us from maiden to mother to crone. Tuning in to these different cycles is about balance; keeping the seasons, energies, etc in balance and honoring each one appropriately.

Painting the Feminine - Space and Ease

I sat down as I normally do, with a candle lit and a big glass of water and began to paint. Just shapes and colors and squiggles, enjoying the brushstrokes and the colors - letting the process flow and taking it easy. As I went on, I felt the need to put the brush aside and dive in with fingers like I do with so many of my canvas paintings... just smooshing paint around like a five year old, enjoying the feel of the paint between my fingers and the page.

And then something happened... a lump in my throat. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, sitting with the lump, not examining or worrying until it passed, allowing myself some space.

When I opened my eyes, I found shapes in the smudges of color; one hunched, one flowing and one spreading her energy throughout the page. I brought them out of the shadow with oil pastels, slowly and deliberately. As I worked on the final fuzzy figure at the left and the painting told me to stop, the lump was back and tears came. Not heaving sobs, but quiet slowing tears. I tried to pinpoint what the emotion behind it was... happiness? Sadness? Felt a bit like both. This is the first painting in the series so far I've had a physical, visceral reaction to. And despite the colors being vibrant and having enjoyed the feel of each stroke and smudge... looking at it makes me feel off. Not sad exactly, but something like it.

It startled me, as it's not the reaction I was expecting after a relaxing painting session. But there it is. And I'll own it, even as it confuses me.

Painting the Feminine - Radiance

This was the first prompt this week that my head didn't attempt to commandeer right at the get-go. There was no struggle, no sticking... just fun and joy and relaxation as I was painting. When I sat at my desk to paint, with my music playing, my fingers instinctively grabbed yellow and pink and off we went; with big bold strokes and itty bitty little ones.

When hearing the word "Radiance" I immediately responded with "Inner Energies" and "Lightness". And I held those in my heart while I painted; creating a depiction of the inner energetic Feminine we all have inside of us, overflowing in to the outer world to spread our light and our magic. To heal and raise up - naturally and without fear or burden.

This is something I personally struggle with, though I didn't realize it until I really sat down to work with this word and its different meanings to me. There's an age old blockage there that's unconsciously kept me from letting my light shine too brightly and from letting my own energies radiate fearlessly out in to the world. Buried under fears of rejections or being labeled, judged and bullied or being shoved in to that neat tidy box so many people would like others to stay in - to be seen and not heard. To diminish their light and power.

And this woman, dancing and letting her light and energies flow freely, helped me to realize that. And have helped me to continue to chip away at the life-long wall of fear.

Painting the Feminine - Divine Mother

My strongest connection to the Divine Feminine is through Gaia; Mother Earth. From the time I was a small girl I can remember laying on her grassy body watching clouds and whispering my hopes, dreams and fears to her... letting her swirling Autumn leaves carry my heart on their backs, running to her sandy shores so salty tears could meet salty seas and heal my wounds in the most natural of ways. I've let her hold me close and wrap me up; been nourished from her bosom and nurtured in her quiet spaces.

So naturally, when I began the process of creating in my journal yesterday images of her green skin, tight belly and breastmilk as life giving waters sprang to mind... and I worked on this, beautiful icons of this Mother of ours. But beautiful as they were, they didn't sit right with my heart. I was holding back, feeling resistance and sticking to the safety of her arms. And deep down in the pit of my guts, I knew she was trying to come through in another guise. To present herself to me in a way which would make me uncomfortable... in, of all things, a spiral.

And as those colors swirled over the icons, I felt resistance; my mind clung to them. But as the last bit was gently swallowed by the spiral, I relaxed and surrendered to the process and to her call.

The Great Transformer - The one who comes to us in the dark and guides us back in to our light. The one whose womb has born untold life and to whose womb we must all one day return - to be held and transformed in the in-between space. To she who gives life. Connected to each of us in the endless cycle of birth, life and death.

I've always connected to her as the one who Sustains life, never to the one who gives or who holds space for us in-between. And now, with my own womb growing life, I feel that she's calling me to join her in other forms; to step on this path from maidenhood to motherhood while holding her gentle hands.

Painting the Feminine - Beginning with Trust

Once more, I'm joining with Connie at Dirty Footprints Studio and the beautiful women in my painting tribe to delve Fearlessly in to our painting practice. But this time, with a bit of a twist and a much stronger commitment; for 30 days we will be exploring and defining the feminine for ourselves in our art journals and on canvas.

We're digging deep in to our own mysteries, questioning and healing with art. And in the process, creating a habit of taking time every day to create.

And this is something that I knew I needed to do; right now. Such a huge part of my inner struggle with the decision to become a mom was this innate terror that I would have to give myself up in the process; that doing anything less would make me selfish and somehow... less. That taking time for art would be ridiculous when you've got a new life and a family to take care of. Because that's what my mother and grandmother and countless other women have done - let themselves, their passions and their dreams fall by the wayside to be 110% MOM and nothing but.

Much as I told myself that this wouldn't happen, that I can brave stigma and judgement, that I have AMAZING support from my husband who would never ever let me be anything other than me... now that baby's growing away in my womb, I feel that old fear creeping back in. I also know that establishing routines is hard for me, so if I'm going to form a strong habit, it needs to happen now.

I'm hoping that by going on this sojourn, I will not only create a daily art ritual but banish these doubts and fears by finding my own strengths and healing old wounds.

And... that amazingly supportive husband of mine? He gifted it to me as an early birthday gift. My heart, it melts!

So, for the next month I'll be sharing my journey here. Starting with the word I chose to use as my intention for the entire journey:

Trust.

I started with "Trust" because, for me, that's what this whole adventure is about. It's about ruthlessly trusting myself to open up and dig deeper in to myself to rediscover and heal my own feminine energies. It's about trusting my spouse and my tribe to support me on my journey. It's about trusting myself to commit to and stick with this practice long after these four weeks have ended. The Feminine asks us to trust and it's one of my sticking points; opening my heart and allowing myself to be vulnerable, trusting in the tenderness of others and the universe not to take advantage of that vulnerability. Without that trust, this would just be another painting exercise and little else. So this start page is as much a pledge and a reminder as a visual expression of the feeling.