I enjoy the freedom that painting offers me. I rarely paint from photos (and when I do it frustrates me to the center of my soul). I'd rather paint what's in my head or on my heart. I don't always name my pieces and they don't always have a story or any deep meaning. I just paint. I paint until what I'm painting feels right and then I'm done.
This painting is the exception to the rule. It actually came to be quite by accident and I held onto it for a longish time simply because when I looked at it, all I saw was the accident.
I painted it for a show back in December of 2018. I have found that painting while I'm showing my work seems to make me more approachable to visitors. For this show, I was positioned outside on a lovely, albeit windy, day. I'd just set a smallish piece aside to dry when a gust of wind knocked that freshly completed piece into the piece pictured, leaving a black smear. There was no way to remove it or "fix" it, so I took the smaller painting and pressed the wet edge against this piece in a few more spots, hoping that it may appear that I intended it to look this way.
It did not sell that day and almost tossed in in the trash more than once. I hung it in our home, thinking I may grow to appreciate it, but the accidental marks and subsequent cover up mocked me.
I named it "Scars" when I realized that this piece and I are a lot alike. I look at myself much like I do this piece of art... most of the time I only see the scars. To me, my scars (and the ones in the painting) are nothing more than flaws that point out failure and imperfection. They are a reminder of how what "is" is not what I'd planned. I'd like to tell you that this realization was a healing moment, that I bonded with the painting over our imperfections and brokenness and that it became a cherished piece in my personal collection. That is not the case. I hated it more than ever because it specifically reminded me of how broken and flawed I am.
I sold Scars to a fella in Florida last month. He bought another abstract piece from me in December and told me to send him pics of others before I posted them on social media. So, when I finally had enough of this piece, just before I tossed it in the trash, I sent him a photo of it.
To my complete shock, he said he loved it and wanted it.
What did he see that I was missing?
He saw the piece for what it IS, not for what I'd planned it to be... which is exactly how we should see art... and ourselves.
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| "Scars" in it's new home |
I tried to look at "Scars" from a different perspective. When I did, I finally saw that it's the imperfections in this piece that make it unique, special and maybe even beautiful.
This has given me a visual to relate to when I need to be reminded that beauty is not only found in clean lines, perfect figures, and unblemished souls. Beauty is also found in our brokenness, in the less than perfect, flawed, and unbalanced. Our scars don't have to be "ugly" reminders of our imperfections. They're proof we've not just lived, but survived. Our scars are not our story, they're not even the focal point, but they certainly add character, emotional depth and passion to it.
Perhaps your scars are visible like the ones this piece bears, or maybe they are felt deep in your soul....maybe both. Perhaps, despite your best effort to cover them, they mock you... reminding you that you and your life are not at all what you planned or hoped for. If so, you are not alone. It is my honest prayer that you will no longer see your scars as reminders of hurts and failures, but as reminders of how God has delivered you from what tried to destroy you. I hope that one day we will all be able to say "let me tell you about my scars," instead of hiding them.
Remember, Satan wants you to think that your scars are only proof of your flaws and failures. God takes the mess of our scars and turns them into HIS message of hope, redemption, and, dare I say it... beauty.
And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose. Romans 8:28 (NIV)
Just my thoughts...
K
