Tiny Faces, Wonder, Being Absorbed in Process

I am trying a little something new! You can read my missive below, or if you watch the video, I recorded a voice over of me reading this letter as well, so you can listen instead.

I am three paintings into my May-Mini challenge. The taskmaster in me is quietly (loudly) moaning in the background that it is Friday, but I have only completed 3 paintings, not the 5 I was hoping for. I take a deep breath as I write this, because her voice has been the loudest my whole life, and the one I have listened to, and indeed obeyed, relentlessly. Relentlessly through pain and chronic illness and grief and utter exhaustion because she is right, isn’t she? She is the voice of the patriarchal-capitalist-machine that values product and output and work at all cost as a measure of self-worth, she learned that very early on, entrenched in social systems built to foster unwavering acceptance as those values as the norm. And, though she does not realise the damage done over the past four decades, I know her voice comes from an intention of securing safety. It just does not feel very safe any more.

I have been speaking to, and also reading here on Substack, a lot of people feeling very much the same. These last few years have been relentless on all our hearts and psyches, and while there have of course been highlights personally (the birth of my second nephew in December, as one radiant example) I mostly feel, well, done. Done with doing these same things over and over and feeling like I am getting nowhere (where it is I am supposed to be going I can’t say). After another conversation with my coach Kathryn of

PS. I like you

about this last night, I am on a quest to build a more felt-sense relationship with that voice, that we might hold each other in compassion, to heal, to find joy, to find a way to realise some dreams instead of planning and hyper focusing and working so, so hard…but not just being. I am so ready to actually step forward on that path to my vision, winding and crooked and with all manner of uneven stepping stones, ever closer to that forest and the delight in amongst the trees.

I am three paintings into my May-Mini challenge. The artist and wild-hearted daughter-of-trees in me is quietly (loudly) celebrating the three tiny faces that made their way out of my paintbrush this week, and it is only Friday! I think there is one more tiny face that will make his way out today, or tomorrow.

These tiniest of bird-people hold so much wonder. That nature evolved such exquisite beauty on such a miniscule scale, to fit perfectly amongst carefully crafted niches, makes my heart explode to think about. The smallest imaginable individual feathers around eyes not much larger than pin heads and beaks the size of my pinky-nail. Tiny finch toenails almost too dainty to render even at this larger-than-life size. As I paint, as I deeply observe the reference, I am absorbed in the process, I am wrapped in wonder and curiosity, and I want to pull magnifying glasses out and explore even further. That there is such beauty at our fingertips, and yet we humans live among constant chaos and fear, largely of our own collective doing.

How do we balance ennui and despair, with joy and wonder?  How do we balance being bone tired from existing in entrenched systems with an ache to sit at the base of the tree and disconnect (and to reconnect in the best possible way)? It seems to me that the answer is both straightforward and impossibly convoluted. Self compassion, rest, consciously shifting to a soft focus on being an active observer and participant of the wild world. Each of these is a radical act of rebellion. Today I can do that through painting the tiniest, most delightful little beings, magic and miracle wrapped in feathers. Tomorrow perhaps I can find the right tree in a quiet place to sit with, connect with, breathe with, heal with. Today I can hear my wild-bird kin in the backyard, interacting and simply being, sunbaking with outstretched wings. I can watch Seraphina curled up on her favourite blanket deliberately placed in the perfect spot to catch autumn and winter sunshine, so that she glows a white that is almost impossible to look at, like looking at Venus in the night sky, magnified. Tonight I can step outside and turn my face to the full moon, glorious and shining and deliciously wild. 

I am three paintings into my May-Mini challenge. The writer and connection-seeking nearly-49-year-old-woman in me is quietly (loudly) trying to find all the words to describe the swirling soup of thoughts and emotions that is a creative, curious, compassionate life. This was initially going to be a post simply about the process of painting some tiny wild beings, but my heart wanted more, my fingers skipping across plastic keyboard buttons were compelled to speak deeper. Because the process of painting is so much deeper than it is ‘simple’. Being absorbed in the process is when everything else, all the thoughts and voices and memories vying for attention are quiet, and I am with the being that I am honouring. I am the being that I am honouring.

I am three paintings into my May-Mini challenge. I am utterly delighted at the sweet Stonechat, Crested Tit and House Finch that stare at me when I walk into my studio. I can’t wait to welcome more of them over the coming weeks.

Tell me, dear one, how are you connecting to your wild heart today?

PS - these wee ones are all available, $275 +postage. If you would like to claim one before I put them on my website next week, message me :)