Grateful for the Ugly

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving Day. As many of us prepare to gather with loved ones and welcome the approach of various events and celebrations the winter season brings, I have been thinking about what I’m especially grateful for this year.

I am grateful for the ugly.

When I begin my painting process, I release any and all expectations I may have on the outcome. I allow myself to “play” with the paint and various tools I use to make marks on the canvas. I enjoy using my bare hands instead of brushes, especially in this stage. It helps me to physically connect with the canvas as I warm up to ensure my movements are gestural and energetic. The excitement and anticipation for what will emerge fills my studio and I get lost in bonding with the canvas. I journal my thoughts with asemic writing, which means the viewer doesn’t actually see words, but may connect with the energy and emotions I was experiencing in that moment. I typically use dark browns, black, and other darker colors on the first layers. I think doing this brings out a richness to the layeres that follow.

After playing for a while, I step back to see what has landed on the canvas. Wow…it’s really ugly. You know, it’s not all ugly, it’s just overall ugly. When I scan the surface up close, there are a multitude of beautiful moments. The way the colors blended, the way the water carried one mark into another, the way marks and patterns appear for which I couldn’t replicate if I tried…So, although I don’t think the painting is finished by any means, and I feel that it is “ugly,” I can appreciate the small areas and moments of beauty within it.

As my process continues and the painting develops, beauty emerges from the dark, nonsensical chaos of the first layers. Composition takes form, a color story surfaces, values begin to play off of each other as the symphony of commotion and frenzy converge into something my soul has wrought to contribute to the world. Most of the time, I am astounded at what my soul is communicating. Sometimes, I don’t have strong feelings one way or another. Either way, I don’t judge it. This piece of art never existed before in the history of the world! I believe that God can help us work through our struggles using creativity and beauty. By the same token, the created work can reflect our most rapturous delight! So, I don’t judge the outcome. I appreciate it for what it is and say a prayer that the message and energy in this piece of work will connect with another human and allow a connection to the Divine, even if it’s for a moment.

Then I realized…my painting process mirrors my life.

There are moments of giddy anticipation as major milestones were met in my life. The joy effervesced as I stepped into a new turn in what I believed God had planned for me. However, that crisp, white canvas isn’t how life stayed. It gets ugly. In my life, some of the greatest pains have been in suffering loss...so much loss. However, even on my worst day, there were moments of beauty. The brushstrokes of God’s grace were evident in the midst of pain, sorrow and loss. Life got ugly. The darkness and heaviness of pain overtook the bright “canvas” of expectation and joy.

But then, God kept painting. Layer upon layer, He created a beautiful composition, a cohesive color story, and somehow allowed the darkness and light to generate a tension and energy that brought healing. I feel humbled by God’s love for me, and for all of us. He is with me through every painful moment, as life marrs me with dark gouges of thick paint while unrelenting tears flood in as if to bury me in its watery grave. He held me tightly as He whispered hope into my heart.

I’m still working. All things will work together for GOOD. You will see the beauty that will emerge from the ashes.

The painting of my life is a WIP (work in process). Some artists are able to create masterpieces with a few strokes of the brush, perfect color, and minimal marks. I admire these types of art. The clean and simple presentation of something that can so deeply touch my heart is facinating to me. However, that is not my art right now. My painting are layers and layers deep, vascillating between tension and ease, until I feel that a balance of chaos and beauty has been achieved. I think my art reflects my life up until this point. Throughout the process, there are so many beautiful moments of grace and mercy…even when the overall image is not appealing to me. But, this brings up another thought. Someone else might think that my first layers are delightful or facinating and would be disappointed to know that my plans are to cover up almost all of it with more layers. This teaches me that we are all on our own journey in this life. We have to seek out the glimmers of beauty and appreciate it for ourselves. We cannot rely on what other people think is beautiful. We don’t know where they are on their journey.

I anticipate and give space for my painting process to develop and maybe change as I continue to grow and trust the divine prompts within me. For now, I love the chaotic beauty; it continues to heal me.

As I leave the keyboard to begin preparing for my family’s gathering, I am grateful. I am grateful for the countless blessings God has allowed me to have right now. I am grateful for surviving the struggles.

And, I am especially grateful for the ugly.

Happy Thanksgiving; may we all seek out the beauty of God’s grace in the midst of difficulty.