Looking for Heaven

(I highly suggest listening to the soundtrack above as you read this blog.)

I was required to go to SAM (the Seattle Art Museum) for my UCOR class to look at an exhibit on Gauguin… let’s just say it wasn’t the most entertaining thing in the world.

Sure, there were a few paintings that captivated my attention, but otherwise I glided through that exhibit like I was slipping on ice.  It wasn’t my style and now I have to write a paper on it.  How am I supposed to write about something I didn’t enjoy and have no desire to write about?  Guess this is where the “fake it ‘till you make it” part of college comes in.  Ironically, my teacher was talking about it in UCOR and that’s exactly where I’m going to apply it. 

Anyway, once I got myself out of the Gauguin exhibit, I proceeded to walk through the rest of the museum to explore the modern art.  There were various photographs, a room full of vinyl records, a huge black rat seated on a white pillow, a piece of armor made out of dog tags, glass sculptures, and too many other things for me to list off.

The SAM is rather spacious and allows for a lot of room to walk around, like most art museums.  When I was looking at certain pieces I felt like Elizabeth from Pride and Prejudice during the sculptures of Pemberley scene (Kiera Knightly version).  Part of me felt like there should have been classical music playing in the background as I found my way from one work of art to the next.  Instead of slipping on ice I was merely flowing through the space, taking my time to admire certain pieces more than others. 

I got stuck in front of a few different paintings, including one called Puget Sound.  The artist painted it (sometime during the 1800s) without even visiting Seattle and therefore only knew what it might look like based on descriptions from the explorers who had already been there.

I was captivated. 

Somehow he gathered enough mental pictures to attempt to capture the essence of the Puget Sound.  Though it doesn’t match how we know the Puget Sound to look, there is a certain aspect of the painting that is incredibly beautiful… it’s the aspect of expectation, and excitement.  There was something to be explored; something that was yet to be obtained, and the artist desired to know what it was and attempted to predict the beauty.   

If felt as if I was looking at America through the eyes of someone from the 1800s—I was viewing it the way that people viewed America as they were started to explore toward the west coast.  If I didn’t live so close to the Puget Sound, I would have never known it was incorrect.

In a way I think the artist did a better job of painting what heaven could possibly look like instead of painting Puget Sound. 

But isn’t that what man is always searching for?  Something infinitely beautiful and breathtaking?

I think we all are. 

I think that’s why we have art. 

Puget Sound by Albert Bierstadt

Presenting the Kindle Sock

There are several blogs designated to the purpose of sharing craft ideas.

My blog is not one of those.  But that doesn’t mean I won’t share something that is very easy to make and more practical than paying $20 for in a store.  (And it only took 2-3 hours to make.) 

People have made things like this before, which made me think that it wouldn’t be too hard for me to make one for myself.  I didn’t follow a pattern, but I applied basic crocheting techniques instead to result in a “kindle sock” as my boyfriend called it. 

I was calling it a kindle case, but kindle sock just sounds cuter, better, and warmer. 

Enough with the words,

I now present the Kindle Sock! 

Someday I'll Have a Book

Last night I was reading for my UCOR class.  It was late and I had endured a rather emotionally tiresome day, but I was quickly able to immerse myself into the book and pick up where I left off in the storyline.

Before I knew it I was along the seashore chasing seagulls, admiring the beach houses, and painting.  I was standing in a room walking through sculptures and taking part of an art show.  I was there, or I might as well have been. I had fallen into the pages and become a part of story.

It’s as if the words were coming out of the page and dancing before me.  My imagination has always been this way, which is why I love to read.  Reading a good book is way better than watching a five star movie, that’s simply how I function.

The other day I watched Lord of the Rings for the first time.  So far I’ve only watched the first movie, but I was thrilled to discover that Bilbo Baggins’s home is exactly as I had envisioned it when I read the book.  I love it when the world I read comes alive and is transformed how I see it.  Which is also why it’s hard for me to read a book and watch the movie—it will never match up exactly. 

Anyway, last night I was reading and captivated by the story.  I loved that the author spent the time to create a world that I could step into.

Which made me realize, this is why I want to write.

I want to write so that other people can step inside a world that has been created by me, planned and executed with a certain style, transformed into something beautiful and moving. 

I can’t wait to get to that point.  I simply can’t wait.

However, I’ll have to wait and take general requirements before I get to take all the classes that will count toward my major.  But that’s not going to stop me from writing all the time.  I’ll write no matter what classes I have.   

Someday I’m hoping I’ll have 300 pages of something that people will want to sit down and read from start to finish.

Someday I’ll have a book. 

P.S. One of my best friends just came in a exclaimed, “You’re blogging again! Yay!”  (I feel the same way; it has taken far too long for me to find a captivating idea that I feel compelled to translate into words.  I’m glad I’m back.)  

Art Final = Done

Tonight I had my art final.

Once it was finished a huge weight lifted off my shoulders and I felt like skipping all the way back to my dorm.

Let’s just say I didn’t leave my room today except to eat lunch because I was drawing.  All day.  I started with 63 sketches and ended with 100. 

If I take another drawing class in the future I will definitely approach it a little differently.  I’ll try to work on sketches every day instead of saving a third of the sketches for the day they are due. 

Time definitely got away from me. 

I think I ended up having some pretty decent sketches so I've decided to share some of my favorites.

6 Hours

The past three days I’ve spent a total of 6 hours on one drawing.

Every half an hour or so I would take a picture, that way I could go back later and view the different stages to see how much progress I made.

However, my phone decided to freak out on me yesterday and, after I restored it, all of the pictures I had taken on my phone disappeared.  Which means the first 5 or so photos from my progression shots were gone.   

Regardless of whether or not I have the pictures, I do have the final piece of artwork.

And, since “a picture is worth a thousands words”, I figure I don’t have to write much more. 

I’m just glad it’s done.

A Major in Doodling

People ask me what my favorite class is (a lot).

I’m going to be honest.  I don’t have one.

All of them are on the same level.  Some days a certain class will be better than my other two.  Or sometimes one of my classes will be so boring that they other two are immediately better. 

It really just depends.  I like what I’m learning and I’ve learned a lot, but there’s not one class that really stands out above the others as my “favorite”. 

In my classes I tend to be a pretty good note-taker.

But I’m also a really good doodler—if I zone out my notebook paper will transform into all kinds of things. 

I’ve been like this my whole life and I think I get it from my Mom.  When I was a kid, I used to watch her doodle on a notepad while she talked on the phone.  She would draw all kinds of shapes in different ways—she was unconsciously a professional doodler.  Just because she doodled while she was on the phone didn’t mean she wasn’t listening to what the other person said, she just liked to doodle.

Now I'm exactly like her because that’s what I love to do…in class.  I had this idea that all my notes would be organized and wonderful and easy to read in college.  For the most part they are, but the margins tend to be lined with little drawings all the way up and down. 

I draw whatever I want.  Random squiggly lines, clouds, flowers, birds… I even drew the Colorado flag and colored it in.  I carry around a set of 10 Crayola skinny markers all the time.  They are a blessing and a curse in the sense that they are great for underlining things, but they are also great for coloring.  And I’ve definitely taken to coloring with them a lot more than I should. 

Today I drew a super man symbol.  It wasn’t my idea.  My teacher brought up a picture on his slideshow that reminded me of superman, so it was his idea, and I drew it.

It’s funny how things work.  I have a drawing class and when I’m in that class I don’t feel like drawing a thing, but I enjoying drawing and doodling in my other classes. 

Too bad there’s not a Doodling major.

But then again, if there were, I would have graduated long ago.  

Drawing Without Sight & Learning to See

During art last night we diligently practiced our “blind contour” skills. Contour drawing is only drawing the lines of an object, in as much detail as you can. Blind contour is doing this while you aren’t looking.

Ha, that’s a good one, I found myself thinking when my professor explained that activity. I don’t really understand this.

Apparently a lot of other people didn’t either, since they kept sneaking glances at their paper while they were drawing (so did I, if I’m being honest). I just couldn’t figure out how in the world I was supposed to actually draw something without looking.

Eventually I figured out it didn’t matter what I drew, it mattered what I saw. It’s amazing how much detail I began to notice once I was required to stare at an object and explicate its various lines with my eyes.

The tiny cracks in a teapot became splitting crevices on pavement.

The tiny veins in a leaf of ivy became Jack’s beanstalk etched against the sky.

I could see everything.

The blind contour drawing of my shoe was by no means an accurate representation, nor was the drawing of my hand or the soup can.

(The picture below is my shoe.)

But within those two hours I was learning how to see in a completely different way.

My professor sent us outside to draw an element of nature and I chose a lone vine of ivy. At this point she gave us permission to look at our paper for a reference point every time we started a new line. But she still wanted us to draw with our eyes and pay close attention to how the lines moved and formed.

That vine of ivy became an entire world as I depicted the patterns.

How can there be no God when there are worlds of detail etched upon the earth everywhere I look?

When my professor talked the first day about the connection between faith and art I didn’t understand what she was talking about. I knew I could pray through art when I played the piano or drew, but I didn’t realize that there could always be a spiritual process involved with art.

Until last night.

I must have drawn that vine of ivy for an hour or so. People passed me on the street wondering why I was sitting with a giant sketch board facing a vine of ivy and drawing it. I must have looked stupid—but I didn’t care what they thought.

Here was the final product:

I was entranced by the process, and captivated by the beauty that God gave this world.

I can’t begin to picture heaven if the earth is this glorious.

I Crave Art

Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. If you eat breakfast you’ll be more ready to conquer the day instead of letting it drag you on a leash. My Mom is always reminding me to eat a healthy breakfast.

But I really wish I could just eat art.

Going to an amazing art museum is easily the equivalent of breakfast. A breakfast with toast, scrambled eggs, and a glass of orange juice (which happens to be my favorite thing to eat in the morning if I do eat.)

Today I finally found some time for my art. I played the piano for nearly 30 minutes. I wasn’t keeping track of time so maybe it was longer. Time loses all definition when I’m playing the piano—I always play whatever I want.

Songs that are mine.

Songs that aren’t.

Songs that I make up on the spot.

Now I understand why people are so intrigued with music therapy. Because it works.

Then tonight I had drawing class. The best words came out of my professor’s mouth. “Tonight will be the most I’ll ever talk. I hardly want to talk during class. I want you guys to draw.”

Goodbye high school art class. I’m going to draw for 2 hours every Tuesday and Thursday.

The class may be from 5:00 to 7:20 at night, which cuts out my time to eat dinner, but it will most certainly be my favorite.

I’ll enjoy a healthy serving of creativity.

And a snack later.