the art of breaking

In general, when we see or hear the word “remember” I feel like we associate it with remembering someone or something, as opposed to an experience or an emotion.  This can obviously vary by person or situation, but when I personally think of this word I tend to think of a memory of someone or associate it with a phrase such as “in remembrance of” or “in memory of.”

In the case of this painting, however, I chose the word “remember” for a different reason.  For me, I feel like I am constantly reminding myself to remember basic things. Like, remembering to breathe. Remembering that I’m loved.  Remembering that I’m free.  It may sound simple or even silly, especially in remembering to breathe because that’s such a basic and natural thing.  But I so often find myself holding my breath and when I finally realize this and remind myself to breathe, I am released in a way that I cannot adequately describe in words. It is an experience.

The other piece of this painting is what I like to think of as the art of breaking, represented by a butterfly made out of broken cds. It’s interesting, actually, because cds are a lot harder to break than you would think. I tried bending and smashing them but it took more strength than I first thought to actually break them. I think we are like this too. Our whole beings are bent and eventually shatter.  Yet, through the act of being broken, we are created into something new, something beautiful, and something that we could have never been without the breaking.

This painting was so frustrating for me because it has taken the longest time to finish it. WEEKS. Which is very unusual for me because I am typically able to crank out paintings in a couple hours.  This one really gave me a hard time though, and I had to keep coming back to it because I felt like it was incomplete and frustratingly imperfect.  I wanted it to tell a great story and really speak about what I’ve been learning and hearing.  I wanted it to move people.

Last night I finally let go, and instead of trying to fabricate something I let my hand take over and let my heart move me. 

This is what I came up with. 

This is where I’m at.

This is the art of breaking.