Painting a Word Picture - Lynn Dove

If I liken my writing process to painting a picture...


The canvas rests precariously on the easel.  In stark contrast to the room that surrounds it, it is bleached, devoid of colour.  It has so much potential where it is, but it will never be fully realized unless splashed with colour, meticulously or haphazardly applied, dependent upon the artist's whims.  It begs to be painted, the masterpiece vibrantly alive and vivid in the mind's eye of the artist, but she hesitates over the canvas.  The colours are right there in front of her, the brushes poised to be picked up, but she procrastinates again wiping her hands nervously on her smock. 


This is the most difficult part of the painting: the first stroke.  The whiteness of the canvas is, in many ways, pure perfection.  There are no mistakes to wipe off and away, no regrets, no tears upon it yet.  That first stroke will change it forever.  The experiences and will of the artist will be reflected upon it, the moment she begins to paint.  That is why she hesitates.  She knows what she wants to express.  She knows the colours and the shading she wants to incorporate into the piece, but will the masterpiece in her mind come to glorious fruition on the canvas?  Has she over estimated her abilities as an artist?  Does she have the talent, or the will, to express herself in such a way that anyone who gazes upon the painting will experience the same colourful landscape she sees in her mind's eye?  She is almost paralyzed with insecurity. 


Taking a deep breath, and whispering a sigh-like "help me" prayer, she dips her brush into the paint.  As soon as she makes that first brush stroke she is committed.  The painting takes on a will of its own.  The original picture she envisioned is changing before her eyes.  She adapts by adding hues, texture, and tones she hadn't originally thought about using.  It's not perfect but it's the imperfections that give it subtle essence and depth of perspective.  She steps away many times to pace, clear her head, and rethink what her next move will be. 


She forgets to eat, the clock on the wall ticks on rhythmically, keeping time with her brush strokes.  The light dims in her studio, but still she paints on. Reluctantly, she lets the brush drop when her eyes can no longer focus on the intricacies of the work before her.  She is spent.  The canvas is still wet.  Wiping her paint splattered hands off on her smock; she sees something out of the corner of her eye and wonders if she has time to add just a dab or two more of burnt umber to highlight the scene.  Shaking her head, she wills herself to walk away.  Tomorrow will come soon enough, and though the unfinished picture still burns in her mind, she forces herself to return to some kind of normalcy that is found just outside of her studio at day's end.  Sleepless nights and crazed days of painting, sap her of strength but she is driven to finish her work.  Her imagination now splayed in wild abandon, on the once bleached canvas, is uncontrolled and unbridled. No amount of coaxing can sway her from completing her task.  


Her family has been patient with her while she has felt the urgings of creativity pull her away from the chores of making dinners, vacuuming rugs and cleaning toilets.  Her paint projects always seem to take her far away from the trivialities of life.  Her family understands.  Subsisting on pizza and take-out while she paints, her family are her greatest cheerleaders.  It does not go unnoticed by her.  She will call them her precious inspirations.  When the painting is finished, framed and displayed on the walls of a gallery, she will trivialize her efforts in a humbling attempt to bring honour to the way her family sacrificed while she painted.  Until then, she is completely immersed in the project at hand. 


After what feels like a lifetime of effort, she jabs her brush like a rapier towards the canvas one last time.  With the conclusive splash of colour, she steps back exhausted and almost weeps at the finality of it.


In the days following the unveiling of her work, when others praise and critique her efforts, she will remember and recount the "help me" prayer lifted up in panic, moments before the first brush stroke.  She will acknowledge that without His Calling on her life, and His Gifting, she would not be able to generate the art before her. 


In the weeks that follow, there is a peaceful lull.  She cleans her studio, and her home.  She reacquaints herself once again with the routine of being a wife and mother and finds some tranquil satisfaction in her less flamboyant role as homemaker.  She all but abandons her paints and brushes in favour of this temperate existence until she remembers a new blank canvas with so much potential waiting for her in the studio.  A picture gradually develops in her mind's eye, and she cannot abandon the thought of it.  It beckons to her until she can no longer ignore the Call and she breathlessly murmurs another "help me" prayer before she once again begins to paint.




  

Lynn Dove is the award-winning author, of the YA “Wounded Trilogy”- a contemporary Christian fiction series with coming-of-age themes.  A wife, mom, grandmother, and free-lance writer with articles published in several magazines and anthologies including Chicken Soup for the Soul books, her blog, “Journey Thoughts” is a Canadian Christian Writing Award winner.  Readers may connect with her on Facebook, Twitter, and at lynndove.com 


Note: this metaphorical story is an extension of what I posted last month.

Welcome to My Garden of Words by Nina Faye Morey

Spring is the time of year when everyone gets anxious to get outside in the fresh air and sunshine. Those of us who are gardeners have already been planning what to plant for months. We’ve been studying our seed catalogues throughout those last cold days of winter, choosing the seeds we want to grow. We may even have started germinating some seedlings indoors in preparation for planting. My favourite spring ritual is the annual trip to a local nursery to choose which flowers I want to transplant into my flowerbeds and flowerpots. The warm, moist, fragrant air; the sunshine streaming down; and the glorious rainbow of colours that greets you once you step inside the greenhouse is enough to cure anyone’s winter doldrums and awaken a yearning to create that prize-winning garden.

Writers are the gardeners of words. We spend plenty of time planning what to write. We read, study, and research the Scriptures and various writings, searching for those special seeds that inspire us and so titillate our senses that we want to plant them in our next nonfiction book or novel. We hope that if we do our groundwork properly and sow these seeds under just the right conditions, they will germinate and flourish. So we diligently toil to transplant them into vivid, descriptive words and sentences that will likewise captivate our readers. As a writer, I pray that I will be able to skillfully sow the seeds God has given me in such a way that they will grow and blossom in readers’ hearts, souls, and spirits.

Writing, like gardening, not only demands preparation, but also a lot of perspiration and patience. Beyond selecting what seeds to sow, we need to carefully prepare the plot in which to plant them if we want them to take root, sprout, bloom, and bear fruit. As Jesus explained to His followers in the Parable of the Sower, if seeds are sown into ground that is not properly prepared, they will not germinate and grow (Matthew 3: 4-8). We can’t just scatter our seeds indiscriminately; we first need to sketch an outline of our plot. Then we can plant them seed by seed, working our way methodically line by line, watering and fertilizing them with just the right components, so that the entire composition contains rhyme and reason. As we work section by section, according to our plan, we must make sure that each part contributes to the overall composition. Placing faith in our creativity, we work patiently to ensure these seeds gradually germinate and grow into an intriguing garden of words.

If we want our creation to develop and mature into a true work of art, it will require the sweat of our brow throughout its entire season of growth. And we will need the patience to labour on through several seasons if we want to create a perennial masterpiece. If we tend our creation carefully, it will flourish. If we fail to regularly water, weed, and fertilize, it will become dry, barren, and lifeless. Weeds may resemble pretty flowers at first glance, but they will overgrow and overshadow the beauty of our budding creation if allowed to proliferate. If we make no effort to uproot them, they will sap the strength and smother the life out of our precious creation. Therefore, it’s vital that we keep reseeding and reworking our garden of words over and over again until we’re absolutely convinced that we’ve created a beautiful piece we can be proud of. Then we may even dare to daydream about winning that coveted award or creating a work that will someday become a classic.

Photos: Pixabay Free Images

Patchwork Soul by Karma Pratt

I inherited a purple patchwork quilt when I moved out of our family home. My mom got it from my grandma, and no one is completely sure where she got it from. Someone made it by hand, that much is true. At first glance it doesn't seem to be much to look at. The purple is a light pastel, not the rich royal hue I prefer. Yellow yarn pokes out from the centers of the patterns. It's seen a lot of living, so some of the threads have come out and the patches are beginning to lift. 

This quilt wouldn't win any prizes at the county fair in its current condition. And yet, somehow, it endures. The fabric is soft, so soft from years of use and gentle care. It has adorned beds in many different locations. It has provided comfort in the midst of cold, dark, lonely moments. 

This patchwork quilt, passed down through generations, has much in common with my faith journey and personal relationship with God. Much like the quilt, my patchwork soul is in need of repair. Some of the pieces have come loose over time. Less gentle hands have torn some seams and the hard darkness of life has worn away the edges. 

Paradoxically, it is some of the harshest experiences that have softened me, transforming my heart, mind and soul from the inside out. The very things that seemed too difficult to bear have been reshaped and redeemed under the careful guidance of God's hand. The skilled needlework required to piece me back together has been undertaken by none other than the Great Creator Himself. The result: the multitude of small pieces of cloth - all different designs, colours, textures - are being drawn back together. The frayed edges of my soul are beginning to glow as golden thread is woven together. 

Our experiences have the ability to shape us, but the tapestry God weaves in our lives shapes our faith. When I look back at my life, I can see the ways that God has been working, His golden thread weaving an intricate tapestry into the places I thought were broken. He is both the blanket maker and the blanket, covering me in His grace. He provides the comfort in the darkness, He is the light that overcomes, and He is right there walking with me through all things. 

Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High

will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. 

I will say of the LORD, "He is my refuge and my fortress, 

my God, in whom I trust." 

Surely he will save you

from the fowler's snare

and from the deadly pestilence.

He will cover you with his feathers, 

and under his wings you will find refuge;

his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart. 

Psalms 91:1-4 (NIV)

Did you ever make a blanket fort when you were a child? In your imagination the walls were fortified; they could withstand any attack. As children of God, we are covered by Him. Even in the dark places of life we dwell in the shelter of the Most High. He is the Creator, expertly weaving a brilliant tapestry from the many variegated elements that make up a life, and He is the protector that covers us in times of need. 

***

Karma writes from the golden house in Northeastern BC. You can connect with her online at redraincoatcreations.com

Idiom Living and the Ultimate Metaphor by Connie Inglis

For any Trekkies out there. 

Idioms are an intriguing facet of language. Discovering unique ones is fun for me. There are lots in the Thai language which I have shared before (see my post Feb. 11, 2014), but every language has them. I like this one in French:  J’ai besoin de vos lumières. The literal translation is, "I need your lights" but the English equivalent would be more like, "I need to pick your brain" which, ironically, is also an idiom.

I could not think of a creative way to segue from the topic of idioms into this month's topic of Christmas and thoughts of the past year so bear with me as I connect the dots.

In the middle of November two things happened that gave me focus this Christmas: 1. My pastor asked me to write an advent poem through the four Sundays of Advent. 2. I started a personal study of the book of John. The theme of light was so startling to me in John 1 that that became my focus for my advent poem and for the Christmas season.

I think I was drawn to the theme of light because it is the antithesis of the difficult, sometimes dark year our family has been through. I began researching the word "light'" for my poem, and that's where the idioms come in. I came across a list of "light" idioms. They sounded so familiar as I read them. Then I realized I had used these or heard these idioms all year: make light of (a situation); bring to light; to be light years away from (something); see the light of day; light at the end of the tunnel; light a fire under; shed light on; see in a new light; the light dawned. Finally, the light dawned.

Was my year really just a year of idiom living? Of relying on idioms that can soon become cliche? I wanted to believe that that was not the case. Because, while these idioms are fine on their own, they are not solid enough to live by.

That's when I started reading John, who does not focus on idioms but on metaphors. And there it was--the ultimate "light" metaphor. John 1:4-8 says, "In Him was life, and the life was the Light of men. The Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came as a witness, to bear witness about the Light, that all might believe through him. He was not the Light, but came to bear witness about the Light." And then in John 8:12, Jesus Himself says, “I am the Light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the Light of life.” That's the kind of focus I wanted and the perspective I needed. And that is His desire for our lives.

Idiom living might sound deceptively fine. But Jesus doesn't want us living that way. He wants us to live by the metaphors of who He is: He is Light. He is Love. He is Life. Small "l" idioms are but a dim reflection of capital "L" metaphors. This Christmas I am focusing more on those capital "L" metaphors as I think about how Jesus "emptied Himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men." (Phil. 2:7) He is Love. He is Light. He is Life. Jesus says, "Come and SEE!"

Heart Talk by Connie Inglis

Have you ever done a word study on "love" or "heart" to help expand your writing? I'm sure you have if you've written about any kind of personal relationships. Today I'd like to share a book with you, one which I'm thinking none of you have ever heard of.

When our family moved to Thailand to work with minority language groups, my husband and I were introduced to a book by Christopher G. Moore called, Heart Talk. This book is like no other on the study of the word, *jai 'heart' in the Thai language. It is a fascinating read for anyone doing any kind of cross-cultural writing because it provides insight not only into "love" emotions but into most of the emotions expressed by Thai people.

In this book there are over 700  jai words/phrases that the Thai people know and use constantly. Whether it's talking about positive emotions or negative emotions, good character traits or bad character traits, right choices or wrong choices, the word or phrase usually includes jai. It is no wonder the author calls it, "the central metaphor in the Thai language."

Let me share a few of these "heart" words to help you understand how differently the Thai view life. There are some words that cross over culturally such as jai-yai 'heart big' in referring to a generous person, or jai-sing 'heart lion' in referring to a courageous person. However, there are many that are surprising and sometimes even opposite of how westerners think. For example, jai-nooy 'heart small' doesn't mean a stingy person. It is referring to someone who is highly sensitive emotionally, who is easily hurt or offended by others. Kin-jai 'eat heart' is a verb meaning, "to impress" in a good way; Or, jai-phra 'heart monk' referring to a person who is extremely compassionate and forgiving; Or naam-jai 'water heart' referring to someone who takes into account another person's feelings. This last one could be translated to mean empathy or sympathy in English but in Thai there are two totally different jai words for those feelings. Are you getting the picture?

But I must mention one of the most used jai words: kreeng-jai 'awe heart'--a word that is almost untranslatable into English. Moore calls it, "the heart of hearts of the Thai culture and class system.":

"The phrase reflects a rich brew of feelings and emotions--a mingling of reverence, respect, deference, homage and fear--which every Thai person feels toward someone who is their senior, boss, teacher, mother and father, or those in powerful position such as a high-ranking police officer."

It takes the author 1 1/2 pages to define this type of patron/client cultural system and even then he confesses that it goes so much deeper. Our western culture find this a difficult concept to grasp. Often we are more jai dii phii khaw 'good heart, ghost enters'. Anyone care to guess what that means?

I focus on this book today as a challenge, to all of us. In a world that is becoming smaller every day, where we interact with other cultures on a daily basis, a book like this can help us see the world through different eyes and then help us write about love, about emotions, about relationships in a whole new way. And maybe it will help us show Jesus' love in a whole new way too.

*Unfortunately, due to computer incompatibility, I could not mark tone on the Thai words.