Birds Like Angels

I've been going to the beach a lot this summer. It's been very helpful as I take a very slow summer to heal myself, restore my energy and enjoy life. It's been many years since I let myself simply enjoy all that summer offers. 

Yesterday at the beach there were so many seagulls. Usually there are always some, but there were a huge flock of them flying around in patterns and hanging out on the sand. A couple of times while I was in the water watching the sky change as the sun was setting, a seagull flew straight at me and looked as though it were about to hit when suddenly it would see me and soar upwards into the air. I really like seagulls. A lot of people think they are a nuisance, but I like them and always have. That's probably because I've heard them all my life and they are one of the sights and sounds of home for me. And I love animals.

Years ago when I was working in a college library, I was also taking classes at night. I took a photography class and used a film camera that was completely manual and had to develop my own film. One of our assignments was to capture something in motion. I went to the beach, brought some scraps of bread with me and hoped to see some seagulls flying so I could coax a few to fly closer to me with the bread. A huge flock was sitting on the sand and they were all facing the water, away from me, as I got out of my car. When I began tossing bits of bread in the air, they saw and they came. I was swarmed and it was wonderful! They flew all around me and hovered in the air in every direction. They were so close that I reached out and fed them from my hands. I heard the beating of their wings. The sound was unearthly and sublime. I also took some cool photos that day that my professor really liked. 

As I drove home I couldn't get the sound of the beating of their wings out of my head and my memory. I thought this... this is what angels sound like. Then I did the painting above titled "Birds Like Angels". From then on, whenever white birds or seagulls appeared in my art, they were a metaphor for angels.

Peace and Blessings,

Robyn 

Hibernation, In Life and Art

Last January I developed pneumonia and it took me months to recover. Right now it is late summer and still strength and energy are returning, and many days for me are quiet, easy and slow. I am honoring what my body requires. I am also honoring what my spirit requires, as what I experienced while recovering from pneumonia was powerfully spiritual.

When I was sick I was taken away from the world, when previously I had been extremely active in it.  I had to let go. Many days in bed with little or no energy forced me into a state of being, rather than doing. There were no days or nights as the concept of time fizzled away and it all began to blur together. It felt like I was dying. I fought it at first, but at some point I had to let go.... let go of all that I wanted to be doing, all the plans I had made, let go of what my life had been before, and maybe even life itself. 

There were things I experienced while in this state of being that were profound. Things inside, as well as out. I was curled up within a metaphorical cocoon and felt surrounded by the love of the universe, by the love of my Spirit Helpers, supported, wrapped, and held. It's difficult to describe any other way without going into too much detail, but it was a deeply sacred experience. I was being supported through the process, loved and cared for in a way that requires pure faith and complete abandon to be fully aware of it, and to realize what an incredible blessing I had been given.

Desire to do anything left me, even when I began to very slowly recover some physical strength. It was as if everything I was or thought I should be had been erased, cleared away, cleansed. It was an opportunity to start new. I listened for stirrings within as to what I wanted to do, even things that required little energy. Nothing called to me until a friend told me about a juried art exhibition for self portraits. At a time when I was no longer sure of who I was, I wondered what kind of self portrait would emerge. 

In my bed, I painted. Even that exhausted me, so neither of the paintings I did are completely finished. That is okay. "Hibernation: Dreamtime in the Cave" came first, and then "Dreamtime in the Garden" followed. I entered them both into the show and the garden one got in.

When I looked back in my journal I saw I had written that I had had a dream about an Ojibwe man who brought me to a Bear Dance, to honor the Spirit of Bear. I had that dream just before I got sick. Around me at that time, before getting sick, I also saw words or images of Bear in different forms and places. Bear was with me in the cave as I hibernated too. It was all so sacred. 

The only other thing I felt like doing was reading and delving more deeply into my spiritual path, the one I was called to. So I did, voraciously.

I've read about other people's periods of initiation and although everyone goes through something totally different, one thing is common: there is a letting go, a being taken away from life for a while that occurs and afterward, we are not the same. Things we thought we were have been cleared away and paths we were headed down may no longer feel right. What we are left with is what is true for us, whatever we discover that to be. 

In one way that time was brutal, but in another it was really quite beautiful. 

Peace and Blessings,

Robyn

 

 

Sacred Objects

I think, in a way, that all art making is sacred, just by the fact that it is the creation of a completely new object or image made by an individual who is unique. That same object or image would never exist otherwise, and can never be replicated exactly. It is as unique as its maker. 

Then there are objects and images that are created specifically for those who do spiritual work, to be used in their work. I have painted drums and worked on wooden staffs that I use, but I have yet to make from scratch an object like a drum, rattle or other instrument or costume object for use in my spiritual work. I have recently been asked (told, really) by Spirit to make a particular object for my own use that will require feathers. Since I was told in a journey to make this object, feathers have come to me often and I trust the reason. I smile. 

Above is one of the drums I painted for a friend on a spiritual path. I was asked to paint a dragon. When I paint a canvas on my easel, I usually don't pray first, but working on a sacred object like this requires a special sort of preparation. For this particular drum, I created sacred space, called in the Spirits from the directions and then my compassionate Helping Spirits. I said some prayers asking Spirit to guide my hand and then I filled myself up with Love as I worked. It's all guided, even my other works of art which are not done for the purpose of being used in spiritual practice. It's all done with the help of Spirit. Without that, the work is empty. 

I didn't plan for the dragon to look like this. I just began painting and this is what emerged as I painted while almost in a trance. I didn't know the dragon would hold the world in its belly. That seems to give it a more special meaning. 

At some point my plan is to make objects to use in my spiritual work, as I am called to. The one that requires feathers will begin as soon as I have the right amount of feathers I was told to have. I smile, and trust. 

Two books give me a great deal of inspiration and joy as the authors share their wisdom, images and journey suggestions: Evelyn Rysdyk's "A Spirit Walker's Guide to Shamanic Tools" and Nicholas Breeze Wood's "Voices From the Earth: A Handbook for the Modern Shaman". I want to dive in, but will go as Spirit intends, with the time I have balancing the different things I do. I am very grateful to those who have walked this path a long time and have shared their wisdom with us. I smile, and give thanks. 

Peace and Blessings,

Robyn

Paint, Dance, Pray: Who Am I and What Do I Do?

One thing I know for sure is that I am an artist. I've been painting since I was about eight years old and it quickly turned into something that I needed to do. I still need to do it. Even if periods of time go by when I do not paint, I know that I am still an artist. Rilke's "Letters to a Young Poet" come to mind, along with an old friend's encouraging words years ago that reminded me that even during times when I'm not actively creating works of art, that I am still and always will be an artist. 

If I could say I am just a painter that would feel simpler, but I am pulled in different directions toward ways of expressing myself that feel right and interesting and good to do. Those things, along with my spiritual life, which is a way of life for me, make life feel very full because there is always something to work on, to be curious about, to explore, to learn, to expand into.

I paint and once I finish one, another is ready to quickly emerge, but there isn't always time to let it. My spiritual life is ongoing, daily and enriches my life more than I can say. I'm on a path and there is still so much to learn, but I'm on it, doing it. Those two things alone make for a very rich life, but there is more... I make masks and costumes, mostly for performances but now also for spiritual work. This year it seems I am meant to take the year off from performing, but the desire is always there in the background... the stories come through my dance whenever I start to move a bit, and that is a spiritual experience in itself. Then there are other things like painting shoes and drums and things. Those, alone could be a full-time endeavor. 

Perhaps I should just call myself "Little Miss Gemini-Rising", and embrace it all. Actually, this is what I do, although it is a juggling act and it can be a bit challenging to maintain the balance between it all.  Some things take precedence, of course. Spiritual work is at the top of the list, right next to art making. Sometimes they tie in together nicely. It all intertwines for me. 

My spiritual life is one that not too many people who know me in person, know about. I mention it when it feels safe to, but the only people (of those I know personally) who truly know what it is that I do are my teacher, and... well, not many others and that's okay. I suppose I'm mentioning it on here because in this blog which is titled Art & Spirit, I'll be mentioning it. There may be posts about just art, other posts about art and spirit, and some about just my spiritual path. It's a shamanic path and one I would not have chosen if I had the choice, because it is not an easy one. I was pulled onto it by the Spirits before I even knew what shamanism was. "Called" is a better word. Sounds softer. I'm embracing it, every bit of it and even the initiations can be quite profoundly beautiful in the deepest ways. Have drum, will journey. :)

That's it for now.... life is an interesting ride, isn't it?

Peace & Blessings,

Robyn