The Faces of Humanity -- the Richness of Spirit

(This photograph will be the basis for my next painting)

I have an obsession with faces. They tell so much about a person, and yet so little. Worry lines may soon turn into laugh lines when the heart is merry. Eyes glisten in the presence of a loved one or a good friend. Tears may signify joy or sadness; the face reflects the nuance and the feelings that others seek to interpret.

As we age, faces become more like maps to the past. How we have lived, what we have experienced is often reflected in the way we hold our mouth or in the downcast look in our eyes. Creases may symbolize chronic illness and pain or a hardworking existence in the great outdoors.

"A Joyful Heart" 9x12 pastel on Bristol; Matted and ready to frame (11x14).

As poets have said for hundreds of years “the eyes are the windows to the soul.” We like to think that we can see into someone else’s life through their eyes, but we’re only guessing. Ted Bundy, a serial killer, had very seductive eyes; but I doubt his victims saw into his soul. If they had, they would have fled in terror.

Still, eyes can tell us about emotion. My next portrait is of a young Indian mother and her two children (1st photo) as they observe something with reverential eyes. Are they worshipping? Do they see someone they revere or are they only hoping for something better to come into their lives?

Their faces captured my attention and I needed to paint them. This is an actual photograph taken by some friends in India. I see longing in the eyes of this family, and at the same time awe. Perhaps you’ll see and feel something altogether different; but if I paint them with my interpretation, perhaps you’ll see them the way that I do.

This is the delight of the creative life. An artist has a deep felt need to express what he or she sees and feels. Sometimes it is a negative message to convey an opinion or make a statement. At other times it is a heartfelt desire to share a joyful picture representing the goodness and the common bond of humanity.

(I have applied the drawing to a 24x18 white canvas)

Faces are like sculpture. Their form and definition, their shapes and lines are beautiful unto themselves. I enjoy painting people of color. The richness of skin tones and the variant shades are remarkable and a challenge to capture. Facial features are bolder, more pronounced, and they fit together perfectly, beautifully into a whole.

I’ve had some difficulty seeing lately so this new painting will be a challenge. I have mono-vision lenses that make it difficult to see depth; one eye is for close-ups and the other for distance. Luckily, when I hold a drawing or a painting up to the mirror, my flaws are usually revealed to me.

(Work in Progress: First layers of acrylic paint on the figures. I will change and altar what doesn't look right.)

I’m disheartened by the recent outburst of hate and racism in this country. While I see beauty in diversity many others focus on differences and see danger. Yet one God made us all and loves us equally. In that light, how then can we not reach out to others in friendship and tolerance?

"With these hands -- Hope" 16x20 canvas; oil on acrylic background.

The Presence of Good and Evil

"Painting of Judas Iscariot"

If you are like me, you form a strong opinion after meeting someone for the first time. Unfortunately, our impressions are not always accurate, yet we remember these fleeting feelings for longer than we care to admit. These vague notions may affect our dealings with that person even after we get to know them better.

I’m embarrassed to say that my first introduction to a person is sometimes shallow and in total disregard for their true character and nature. Once I get to know them on a personal level, I’m surprised that I allowed superficial values to interfere with our relationship.

Another painting of Judas

Each person gives off an aura that we can feel. If we judge them on appearances, we may miss the totality of their personality. I remember after my mother’s passing, I sometimes felt her presence when I walked into a room long after she was gone.

This aura either creates an instant bonding between two people or it does not. What we are and who we are can be felt by others. Our lives have an impact on the people we love and associate with while the presence of strangers may project either good or evil.

Have you ever felt the dark awareness that you were being watched or followed? Did the hair rise on your arm? Did fear hit you in the pit of your stomach? Whether you can see them or not is beside the point. Their presence was felt. 

Children are good at measuring evil and feeling when it is near. At the same time, they are innocent and may not listen to their own feelings but yield to authority without making any protest. That's why it's so important that we protect them.

Gut instinct is there to protect us. It is developed through experience. It's trying to tell us something about our environment. Traditionally, women have downgraded these feelings more than any other gender. They have been taught to “play nice” and to disregard angry or negative feelings. Thankfully, this style of femininity is changing. The deep and instinctual reactions we experience are there to keep us safe from harm or abuse. We should trust them!

Another artist's version of Judas

Men seem to be keener at recognizing a threat. They are built physically and emotionally to retaliate when confronted. We hear about the “dumbing down” of America. There is also an effort to emasculate males. Mothers are over protecting their sons and teaching them to back down rather than to stand up for one’s self.

While this sounds good in the short term, the long term results may have devastating effects on the family and the nation. If people lack the courage and skill to defend themselves or their loved ones, they become victims. If people cower in fear, they can be overtaken. If goodness is no longer strong it caves in to evil, and what kind of world would that create?

Over the centuries, artists have painted these opposition forces. Their artwork has provided a stark contrast between light and darkness, good and evil. Their portraits portray the struggle each person faces from within. Their choices illustrate the physical transformation of the flesh as it succumbs to wickedness.

In contrast, here is a face without guile, a face radiating from "A Joyful Heart" 9 x 12 pastel on Bristol

If you doubt that change, check out the police online files and see the alteration of a person’s face who has gone down the road of addiction. Signs of aging rapidly increase, teeth loosen from gums, hair falls out, wrinkles appear even in the young, the heart is weakened and hardened. 

The famous paintings of Judas in this blog depict the presence of sorrow, shame and evil. The portrait above reflects goodness and happiness.

Feed the Hungry and Allow Others to Feed You

"India Rising -- the Found" mixed media on canvas

There are times in life when we nurture and feed others. And there are those dismal dark days in between when we are the needy ones. We hunger and thirst for the missing pieces in our lives, and we try to solve the puzzle of discontent and emptiness.

Perhaps it’s simply a desire for knowledge or perhaps the need to connect with another human being.  Whatever it is, we hope not only to discover what we’re missing, but to fill that empty abyss that gnaws at our organs and psyche. Like a tantalizing crumb dangling temptingly before us,  we can almost taste this mysterious ingredient. But before we can devour its lusciousness or feel its goodness on our tongue, it is gone.

"With These Hands -- Love" mixed media on canvas

Over the holiday, we saw a brilliant and moving film called: “The Book Thief;” written about one of the most interesting and grueling time periods in history: World War II. The character, a young girl named Leasle, gains the reputation of “book thief” because in order to satisfy her craving for knowledge and life, she must read. She must learn. She doesn’t steal books, she tells everyone; she only takes them for a little while and always returns them with added benefits.

The movie reminds us of the striking contrast between good and evil, and of the types of people who inhabit the earth: those who make choices that free their souls and shape their destiny in remarkable ways, and those who destroy whatever and whoever they touch through their black lifeless hearts.

"India Rising -- the Lost" mixed media on canvas

This movie inspired the title of my latest art show: “The Human Spirit – a Celebration of People and Places.” In almost all of my paintings, I try to emphasize the goodness and light that emanates from ordinary people doing small and simple things. The way they live their lives. The results of the choices they make.

"Prayer Circles" mixed media on canvas

If you’re in Fort Myers, Florida in December, I hope you can come. A reception will be held Friday evening, Dec. 6 from 7 to 10 p.m. at the Arts for Act Arcade Gallery on First Street, between Jackson and Hendry. I’ll be there with other displaying artists.

Arts for Act holds auctions and uses the commission from the sale of art to fund services for abused women and their children. Many local artists support this gallery and also participate as volunteers.  Please call 239-337-5050 for information or check out their web site at http://www.artsforactgallery.com 

"Reggae Night" acrylic on canvas

Sadness is a Part of Life; Death is Inevitable

My sister was my hero. For almost 40 years she battled Multiple Sclerosis (M.S.). She was in a wheel chair for the last 20-25 of those years. In all that time, I never heard a complaint or a negative word. She remained optimistic with her faith intact.

When people would visit, it was they who went away uplifted. Her laughter and bubbly personality never wavered in spite of her disability. When her speech began to falter, I remember sitting with her hoping to understand what she was trying to say. I began a game of charades to help her express what was on her heart. This resulted in a raft of giggles from both of us until I finally discovered her meaning.

“Thank God my sister is still in there,” I remember thinking.

The last time we were together I wasn’t so sure. By this time she was almost comatose. Her large eyes stayed open. What I thought were tears of joy at our meeting were only her body’s response to moisten her eyes. Her skin was radiant and wrinkle free. She had not a gray hair on her head. How could she be so ill and look so beautiful?

I decided it was her spirit shining through. The nurse fed her a noontime lunch with a syringe filled with nutrients which she inserted into Jean’s feeding tube. This caused her breathing tube to bubble and froth as she took air in and out. I wiped the spittle from her mouth with a towel and felt honored to be able to do this for her, helping her through this arduous humiliating ordeal.

Somewhere inside did she recognize me and know I was there? I hope so. I had only been home a few days when I received a call that she had passed away. Had she held on long enough to see me? So many close calls had come and gone. She was in and out of the hospital on the brink of death throughout the past 20 years.

I will miss her. I miss the beautiful person she was and the person she continued to be through all the ups and downs, the falls, the concussions, the broken ribs that occurred as she fought to stay upright on her own. I will miss her courage and her optimism. She fought a good fight. She remained faithful and true. Those who knew her and loved her were the better for having known her.

We are not alone. People notice us wherever we go even though we may not know it. We influence for good or bad everyone around us; a small act of kindness, an encouraging word, a warm hand reaching out to comfort do not go unnoticed. The gifts of the soul are simple and free, but they last forever.

She is in a better place. I imagine her dancing and singing and doing all of the things she was prevented from doing; a prisoner of her horrible disease. Sing Jean!  Dance Jean, rejoice and be glad for the Lord your God shall shelter you from all pain and sickness.

Artist of My Soul

O Lord of light, of form and hue,
   Who has created all things new,
Create in me, from shapeless clay,
   An instrument on which You play.

God of the dance that planets tread,
   Who walks beside and soars ahead,
O let me move to worship Thee,
   Come, Holy Spirit, dance with me.

God of the Living Word, Poet of Time,
   Teach me Your words
   in Your cadence and rhyme.

O Lord of beauty, Lord of art
   Who gives a song for every heart,
Carve out my life, reshape and mold,
   And be the Artist of my soul.

(He hath put a new song in my mouth.
 Psalm 40:3 NIV)

Do cramped closets and overstuffed drawers have you by the throat?

I didn’t realize what a pack rat I’d become until I tried to clean out my jewelry boxes and a bulging chest of drawers.

My rationale went like this: “If we move back up North, I might need these sweaters, these gloves, and this flannel nightgown.”

The jewelry was no different: “If I had this fixed, got a new clasp, a new link, I could wear this necklace again. Why, some of these pieces must be heirlooms; I could give them to my kids. The stones may be valuable? At the very least, I should have them appraised.”

And so it went. Instead of throwing things out or giving them away, I just moved them around to a different place.

"Home at Last" 16 x 20 acrylic on panel

In truth, I’ve thrown out a lot of things in the past from necessity. For one thing, I’ve moved a lot. When you move or downsize, some things have to go. I think the loss has made an impact on what I’m now willing (or unwilling) to give away.

 Everything near and dear to me seems to be gone. My children live in different States across the country. I’ve changed my life, my religion, and my hair color. Is this why I cling so tightly to what is left?

Please don’t psychoanalyze me! I do that enough myself. I’m just glad that I haven’t become a classic hoarder (yet!).

I once knew a woman who, like me, had trouble throwing away her favorite magazines. She lived in a small duplex and when you walked in the living room, every table held multiple stacks of magazines, albeit neat stacks. Each pile was face up in date order and could be found instantly. While I admired her ingenuity, I often wondered how high those magazines were allowed to get before they came tumbling down.

"Painting of my Grandmother" mixed media using "found items"

My artistic “scrounge for finds” nature encourages clinging. “What can I turn this into?” I ask as I comb through saved items in the garage. “There must be some mixed media project that would welcome this?” So like a game of shuffle board, I just move junk from place to place until I get the urge to clean and then I start the process all over again.

My mother was a neat freak; immaculate and germ conscious to the point of paranoia. She once threw away a square of butter because a fly had landed on it. I remember thinking that I would scrape away only half an inch to make myself feel better, but never the whole square.

She also loved changes and moved her furniture around at least twice a month. I hated it. When I walked in the door after school, instead of feeling at home, it took me several days to adjust. Because of this, I rarely change my furniture around. I find an arrangement that feels right and then I live with it – forever. Why change a good thing!

"The Pose" 16 x 20 Barred Owl acrylic on panel

My mother’s cupboards and drawers were neat and simple; partly because my parents had so little, and partly because she hated old things. Ironically, I developed a love for antiques and used items. I’ve always felt that old things carry the spirit and the life of those who went before.

This feeling was reinforced by an antique frame I purchased that held the photo of a woman with dark eyes. Every time I walked into the room where the picture was stored, those eyes bore down on me. There seemed to emanate a dark spirit of evil around that photograph. I couldn’t explain it, but I certainly felt it. Eventually I threw that old photo away, knowing that it was worth far more than the antique frame that held it.

See, I can throw things away on occasion.

"Playing Dress Up" 16 x 20 mixed media on canvas

Letting go, experimenting, and discovery

Today I attended an online seminar by Lisa L. Cyr, artist and author of several books, including her latest “Experimental Painting;” a book I purchased a few days ago. The book and class inspired me, and I’m eager to take some of my old canvases and repaint them using some of her techniques. Lisa has a blog at http://lisalcyr.blogspot.com/

India Rising Series -- The Found

I’m also showing the completed painting from my new India Rising Series “the Found.” I’ve included some preliminary stages to refresh your memory. I had always envisioned adding doves to represent the spirit of light flowing out of the women’s prayers. Some in my art group said: “I don’t think so,” or “I don’t know about doves.”

I’m a rebel of sorts, and once I get an idea in my head, I can’t get it out. When I discovered an Indian bride and groom online and learned about their traditions, it was a clincher. Part of the wedding ceremony in many Indian marriages includes the opening of a basket containing two doves. When the basket is opened, and the doves fly out and away, it is believed that the couple will be blessed with many years of peace.




That is exactly the message I wanted to portray in this painting. The women are “found” through their faith and blessed with “peace” and light. So the doves stay!

The next painting in my India Rising Series is called “Prince of Thieves.” This painting portrays the street children of India and how they survive. Perhaps this series will draw attention not only to India’s colorful history and beauty, and their rising status in the world, but will also highlight the plight of those who are less fortunate and need our compassion and help.

I lamented a few blogs ago that I’d failed to meet my goals for summer: more drawings and some experimentation with pastels. The “in progress” drawing below is done with charcoal and pastels. I call it: “Sareena Shines” a triumphant moment in Sareena Williams’ life as she wins at Wimbledon. At this point, I can see that I need to make adjustments to Sareen's right arm.

See Carol’s other drawings @ Etsy.com (Click on Etsy Icon at right), or http://carol-allen-anfinsen.artistwebsites.com/