Thursday, October 16, 2008

Separating the Light from the Dark; The Canvass of Life

“I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free”. — Michelangelo

Several years ago I watched and very much enjoyed an HBO documentary series about early artists who later became very famous, though most of them did not live to see their fame! In watching this series, a concept included in one of them became very interesting to me, and I have never forgotten it.

The old artist told his young apprentice that if she wanted to be a great artist she must first learn to see the light within the dark. He gave the apprentice a piece of black soapstone and then instructed her to see the image within the darkness and then bring the light up through the dark, and allow the image to emerge– basically, creating the image in reverse.

While preparing to write this blog, I thought about how fortunate I am to call several talented artists ‘friend,’ and so I asked a couple of them if I could use their artwork for this entry, not only to offer something appealing for you to gaze upon, but also to illustrate life … as a blank canvass.

Marjie, one of my best friends in the world, is extremely talented, with many artistic bones in her body! That's Marjie over there to the right in the Catskills. This past Christmas, Dani, Bliss, Marjie and I gathered together and exchanged gifts. We loved the special thought and care of each gift we received, but we all felt a special thrill when Marjie blessed each of us with a framed print of her original artwork. Marjie has paintings hanging in New York City, Prague, and a host of other places, but the piece of hers I have always loved the most is a portrait of a young girl who looks very Russian to me. It is very different from Marjie’s other paintings, so while the image is a portrait, it is unexpected. "The Russian," as I call her, is sitting in my office, on my desk, and I love her.



When I asked my friend Will Berry (over there to your right) if I could use one of his paintings for this, he was kind to bless me with Separate the Morning, a painting he created as a way to work through his mother's death. He told me he would never sell the painting, but he did donate it to the Austin Museum of Art to help them raise money. I know first-hand that this was the perfect way to honor his mother, a woman I liked very much. She was a giver, and this particular type of philanthropy would have made her very happy. A perfect symbolism. Separate the Morning is now in a private collection in Texas. Will lives and works in Mexico City and has paintings hanging all over the United States and beyond. I absolutely adore his work. In this particular situation, he definitely pulled the light from the darkness he was experiencing with his mother's passing.

I have other friends who are wonderful artists: Elizabeth Wise, Lisa Ernst, Joe Johnston, Lain York, Anice Rouse ... lots of artist friends, and I love all their work. Seeing their work and knowing them as friends has taught me something about art and how it relates to life.

I have surgery coming up very soon. It will be major. They will be checking to make certain all the cancer is gone. Part of this procedure, as readers know by now, may include a permanent colostomy.

In coming to terms with this, I am attempting to see a blank canvass before me. I have an easel, a palette, a variety of paint in a range of hues, and my imagination knows no limit. What will I create? How will I create this? Will I choose bright or subdued colors? Will I make bold, broad strokes, or will I choose finer, feathery strokes. Will what I create be expected or unexpected? It is completely up to me.

Life is like this as well. Those with cancer, or any illness or life challenge, must learn to take the black soapstone in hand, look deeply into the darkness, and see the light that will emerge and bring the image forth, having faith that the light is indeed there. Sometimes the image that emerges is expected, sometimes it is unexpected, but each most definitely holds the gift of light and a beauty all its own.

If you look for it, you will see it. But, you must look for it. The light cannot exist without the darkness. Let there be Light.

"The life that is calling you has no fear in it. Whether you create that life or not is for you to decide. You do not have to choose harmony, cooperation, sharing, and reverence for Life in your daily struggles, but they are required if you want your new life. You do not have to listen to the wisdom and compassion that are now coming into your consciousness, but you won't be able to create your new life if you don't. Which will you choose - your new life or your fears?" ~Gary Zukav~

1 comments:

Anonymous said...

Beautiful, Tanya. You may not be an artist of the canvas, but your tongue illustrates all the feathery and bold strokes of a master artist.

The painting of the "Russian" seems to give me a sense of you in this current challenge life has given you. She seems to be looking forward with a bit of uncertainty as she will soon face the unknown.

I love art...thanks for this post. Love ya, Taryn