Circling and Crowding

Painting on rounds of wood, in harmony with its well-established grain, I think a lot about the boundaries in life that are good, the grain of life as it was made to be, paying attention to the places where my own life deviates and resists. It is an embodied practice, and it is impossible to separate painting from what is going on in the heart; if I am sad, lonely, or angry I must face it when I paint. No podcast or music in the background pushes out the feelings that may arise.

Where I live, in Northern Virginia, we are a busy people, busier than normal. I joke and say that my town is one that chokes out artists, eventually driving them away to a more creative-friendly city (often Richmond, which I did consider relocating to this year). There is some truth to that, but I think the right word is crowding, not choking. Working in ministry, I’ve seen firsthand the expertise we all have in crowding out the things of the heart in busyness. Being still is a meaningless concept. Prayer requests are almost solely for “getting through” things – school, deadlines, sticky situations, trips we don’t want to take, things we are reluctant to do. The list goes on, and the prayer request is nearly almost always for resolution. Getting through. Point A neatly to Point B.

Painting, for me, has the opposite effect. It uncrowds my thoughts; instead of taking the linear, quick resolutions, I am forced to circle my issues instead. As I circle the wood grain with my paintbrush, the nonlinear, uneasy things shuffle up to the surface: impostor syndrome, fear of rejection, people pleasing.

I believe that other artists often feel this way, too. Art making is a refuge for deep feelers, because it’s space to express what is inexpressible. But art making is also a space where deep feelings must be felt. Getting still enough to sit down at the desk and paint, draw, or design is a space to be alone with God. Is that a good space? It’s a question that is worth asking.

The art I am producing for this summer collection (one pictured above!) has much to do with circling, and I hope that these pieces remind you that while the stories being written in our lives are often not linear, there is beauty in the circling, and we do not have to be afraid.

Ellie DuHadway