From Devastation to Joy

Last Sunday, my husband announced he is allergic to my oil paints. Painting has been a passion since I was twelve, right along with my writing. Besides that, I have hundreds of dollars invested in my art supplies. Not an easy thing to throw out or give up, but my husband’s health is more important.

Still, I couldn’t help my spiraling emotions, and I took all my paintings down, unable to look at them.

Later, after my thoughts settled, my husband and I looked for a solution, starting with an outside art studio. However, the building, electricity and heating and cooling proved cost prohibitive.

More research revealed the solvents, more than the paints, caused allergies. Not only that, but they are also highly toxic. A little more digging discovered water-soluble oil paint. They clean with water and a soap rather than the harsh solvents. Another bonus, my local art stores carry every color I could want along with water soluble mediums to replace my paint thinner and painting medium.

However, although they are non-toxic, my sources said they still have some odor, which may bother my husband even though they aren’t toxic.

My husband suggested looking at some better ventilation for my studio. The simplest and least expensive is a window exhaust fan. We found one that is powerful enough to clear the odors from my studio for a reasonable price, $40. With a little DIY finagling to seal the gap between the window and fan, we found a solution. (And my paintings are back on the walls.) 

The next day, my sweet husband took me shopping to restock my painting supplies, never batting an eye at the price tag, a little over $150. Cheap considering how many tubes of paint I’d accumulated over the years. I thanked him for his support and willingness to help me find (and fund) a way for me to continue my art. It still pained me to pack all my regular oil paints and mediums into a bag to take to the toxic recycling bin at our waste transfer station, but the new paints mitigated the sting.

This is Passion Week, and my readings tell the story of Jesus’ passion and death. After my little disappointment, I have a tiny glimpse into how the disciples must have felt on Easter after the horrors of Calvery.

I’m sure there will be many more mini-Calvery moments in my life until I find the eternal joy of Easter when I meet Jesus in heaven.

Until then, I am thankful for the earthly joys I am blessed with, beginning with my husband and his love and generosity. I’ll never take it for granted and will work hard to return it in kind. Then, if you truly love someone, being kind and generous isn’t a burden but a joy.

Thank you, Lord, for loving us enough to give us both Calvery and Easter. Amen.

Happy and Blessed Easter to you!

Exalted - Reposted

I originally posted this back in 2015, but it popped up today in one of my memories and I felt a spiritual nudge to share it again. With a newly published book, I'm already thinking is not as good as it should be (I went from thinking it is the best I've ever written, to who wrote this mess?) I also have a new, almost finished painting I think is my best. It is, but I think God is telling me to be careful and not become too exalted. 

Original post from October 2015

Original Art by Cecilia Marie Pulliam

Jesus said, “For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.” Luke 14:11

When I first began art lessons, my dad encouraged me and gave me a challenge with each painting. “That’s good, Sisser, but not as good as Jackson.”

Jackson was a regional artist whose large painting hung in our living room. For years I worked hard to be as good an artist as Jackson. Then one day, I gave my dad a painting of one of his favorite subjects: a ponderosa pine, an old cabin, and mountains draped in snow.

My dad said, “It’s just as good as Jackson’s.”

I was thrilled.

Then he added, “But not as good as Charles Russell.”

He was right. I was better than some, but not as good as others.

It’s the same for life in general. I am not the least, nor the greatest, but somewhere in between. I prefer sitting in a back corner rather than at the head of the table, if possible. I am not exclusively an introvert, but rather a mix with some traits of both the introvert and the extrovert. I can talk up a storm in a one-on-one conversation but clam up in large groups.

I don’t want, or seek the limelight, but I don’t want to be ignored either. In other words, I am part of the general populace, neither all good nor all bad, neither extremely talented nor without talent, neither exalted nor cast out.

According to Luke, that’s a good place to be.

I’ll be happy for a backseat in heaven but would be ecstatic if God nodded in my direction and said, “Well done, good and faithful servant.” 

To that end, I must continue to live and work, without making comparisons, without declaring my unworthiness, without calling out my goodness. I’ll leave that up to God. I just want to get through that gate.  

The Secret Is In the Details

Painting by Michael J. Smith. 

Michael James Smith.com 

I've been studying art videos on how to paint photo-realistic paintings. The key is in the details. The more color and brush strokes I apply, the more realistic the painting. At the same time, I don’t want my work to look exactly like a photograph. Otherwise, why paint? Just frame a photo. 

The videos have shown me different techniques, things I can try to render the images I want to create. As with writing, after some trial and error, I find what works for me, the color choices and brush strokes that give my art its uniqueness, similar to my voice in my writings. No two artists, or writers, will produce the same painting or book.

The other key to good painting, and writing, is observation. No photograph can replace in person observation of sky, trees, grass, and earth. Cameras distort color and shape, foreshortening objects, and should only be used as a reference.

It is much the same with life, isn’t it? Our lives consist of many small moments, details, when added together they form a picture, a collection of memories. Some are momentous, life altering, but most are small moments, details, which build our masterpiece. Our choices and attitude add tone, much like an artist chooses warm or cool tones for a painting depending on time of day or mood. Same as how an author’s attitude and perceptions set the tone for their writing. 

Will our masterpiece be bright and happy or dark and gloomy? Will it be sparked with excitement or dull and boring? If we add in a dash of faith, even a dismal life will brighten in tone.

Lord, help me fill the details of my life with things of your choosing. If I can’t trust The Master Artist, who can I trust?