Wednesday, April 20, 2011
A few years ago I had done a painting similar to this one. I recently tried the same color palette again and I liked what happened to the rough clouds met by the clean lines of the landscape.
I really try to just get at the emotion in the sky. Not so much the photographic look. I have been going through some waiting and hoping in my life. I feel a lot like this piece. My Dad has suffered with cluster headaches for 8 years now. There have been surgeries in his life to numb the nerves on his head and they work for a year or so then come back. We seem to go from having him back with us to slowly losing him to pain.
It's hard to watch someone you love in so much pain. It's hard to keep praying for something that doesn't go away for good. I say this to be perfectly honest with my feelings. I always find when I "rain" down my feelings on God's great plain that He is better able to talk to me afterwards.
As I approach what I feel is the most important week of the year for Christians, what we call: Holy Week, I am reminded that our Lord faced similar feelings of waiting and hoping and even resignation to the fact that there would be pain. And for Him, a great deal of it. The Bible says that He sweat drops of blood in that place of great feelings as he "rained" down on the Father all that He was going through. Not only is our God big enough to take our feelings He was also human enough to feel those trembles of pain and anguish.
I look at this painting and feel God quietly loving me, loving my Dad, loving all of us. It reminds me that pain is one of the only places we really awaken to our faith. We carry the cross just as He did more than 2000 years ago. We sweat, we weep, we hurt yet we have hope. The cross is not the end. The empty tomb is.