“Journey of the Soul,” 24″x30″, acrylic on canvas
As an artist creates a piece of work, she will often use certain objects, shapes, or colors to express narrative or thematic ideas. These things, over time, may coalesce into a personal lexicon, a personal symbolism, which may or may not fit into the norms of the greater body of symbolism employed by other artists.
Among other things, the circle and the butterfly figure prominently in my personal artistic symbolism. Two events led to this, and I have continued to use these symbols in other paintings.
Journey of the Soul
About ten years ago a dear friend lost her mother. I called to see how she was doing, and we talked for a long time. She poured her heart out about her deep and painful grief. During the call I felt drawn into her pain and after the conversation I could only sit and let it wash over me while I processed it.
Afterwards I fell into a meditation during which I saw a grouping of circles. I had a visceral feeling that these circles were spirits of departed souls. I knew that one of the circles, a red one, still held the vibrancy gathered from her recent time on earth. This circle was soon surrounded by other circles, spirits of family and friends that went before. Holding this image in my mind I immediately began the abstract piece that became, “Journey of the Soul.”
I Will Be a Butterfly
One day I saw a tattoo on a young woman’s foot, and I asked her about it. She said that her terminally ill grandmother had told her husband of many years that she would never truly leave him, she would come back and visit him as a butterfly. A few months after she passed the family gathered in the grandfather’s back yard for his birthday party. He sat in the sunshine enjoying the time with his adult children and grandchildren. A butterfly flitted around his head and landed on his cheek. He remained very still and closed his eyes. One of the grandchildren, my young friend, noticed and quietly alerted the others. They all became still, silent, and watched. Time passed and the butterfly remained. Everyone there knew of their mother’s and grandmother’s promise. The butterfly remained perched on the man’s cheek for 45 minutes before flying off. I felt a chill as I heard this story. I have sometimes felt a presence when I see a butterfly come close. This was the inspiration for that tattoo, and the springboard for my painting, “I Will Be a Butterfly.”
With Grace
Growing up I felt very close to my grandmother, Grace, my mother’s mother. She lived in Canada but would come to visit and stay for weeks at a time. She was an accomplished painter and a major inspiration for me as an artist. She passed away when I was a young adult just finishing college. At that point I began having very vivid dreams in which I saw her watching over me and my family. For many years, and still occasionally now, when I am in the car the radio will spontaneously change stations, or, in a silent car the radio will just turn on. For a long time, I ignored it, thinking the car was malfunctioning. But it continued over the years, and in many different cars. I began to listen to the lyrics of the special songs, which played typically during times of emotional upheaval, and realized that the songs always had something to do with what was going on in my life and somehow made me feel better. I now listen closely and I am never disappointed; it always makes sense.
In my painting, “With Grace,” I constructed a still life scene with a hand-blown glass vessel my sister gave me. I printed out a photo of my grandmother from a scene my grandfather filmed of my grandmother painting at one of her artist league painting sessions. I placed it behind the glass vessel so that it holds the reflection of my grandmother’s face, upside down in the stopper, and repeated several times in the facets of the body of the vessel. A butterfly, a black-veined white, or Aporia crataegi, flutters into the scene over the vessel, symbolic of my grandmother’s spirit visiting me and guiding me.
Anima Mundi
About four years ago a small group of friends and I attended the first Women’s March in Lansing, Michigan. Upon arrival I worked my way to the steps of the state capitol building, climbed to the top, and looked out at the sea of people gathered on the mall and down the surrounding streets. Many of the women were wearing the cheeky “pussy hats,” so the scene had an overall pink cast. I descended into the crowd and stood side-by-side with my fellow sisters and was overcome with a feeling of connection to the many diverse and energetic souls. The voices of those around me, the words on the signs held high, the messages in the speeches singing out over the crowd, all served to call women, and all people, into action to work toward humanitarian goals. The positive energy was palpable.
In this painting the pink magnolias represent the many women gathered at the Women’s March around the country, and the continuing efforts to rise up together for progress. The golden halo, a circle, references the divine spirit flowing through all of us. The magnolia blooms in the foreground are riding the breeze and flowing toward the central figure, where the energy of the feminine spirit flows into her, then out of her, enriched by her soul’s energy, toward the conch shell which she holds aloft and uses as a trumpet to call the world to peace.
The golden halo also references the golden halo in the traditional Madonna and Child oil paintings my grandmother painted. Over the years when I visited her in her home in Canada, I would see the Madonna and Child paintings in various states of completion on her easel in the living room. One of these painting hangs in St. Patrick’s Cathedral in Manhattan, I am told. Further, the halo strengthens the representation in the painting of universal energy, or spiritual energy, what many people call the holy spirit.
Blue Morpho
After my recent surgery I wanted to paint something simple that I could complete in a few days. I have a souvenir display I bought years ago at the Butterfly House in Key West, Florida, that has a luminous Blue Morpho that I have planned to paint but never had.
As it sometimes happens, as I paint, I discover the deeper motivation and meaning of what I am working on. Whether the meaning comes from my subconscious, assigned artificially after the painting’s creation, or a wider universal energy, I do not know. Whatever the case, as I looked at the emerging image, I was reminded in a flash of awareness of something that happened a while ago.
My father died the night of my 25th wedding anniversary six years ago. I was with him when he passed. We had a tumultuous relationship, but we were nevertheless close. In the weeks that followed I began having vivid dreams. In one dream I was in my parent’s basement and the phone rang. I answered it and heard my father’s voice as clear as if he were living and talking on the phone. It was decidedly un-dreamlike. He said, simply, “Take care of your mother.”
Around the same time, I began having trouble with my blue Dodge Charger. Every time I put the car into drive, I felt a jolt and hitch as it got going. It was very subtle, and I had no reason to think it was anything serious.
However, I kept having the dreams and feeling like I was receiving messages that I could not quite make out. It was very frustrating. I saw an ad for a psychic and decided to go for a visit. I was not sure if I believed in such things, and I was careful not to provide much information. The reader used tarot cards to structure the reading, which I was familiar with, as my grandmother, my father’s mother, read tarot cards. As he laid cards down, he poured out visions he was receiving. He said, “There’s a man here who says he’s your father. He is holding a toy car in his hand. It’s blue.” He stopped, looked puzzled, said, “He’s gone.” He went on, telling me other astonishing things, then picked up the previous thread. “He’s holding up an orange flag and waving it. He’s really excited about the flag.” To be honest, at this point I did not see the meaning of this. I was overwhelmed by all the many things he told me.
As it happened, my car was due for an oil change, so I took it to the dealership and asked the service manager to have the mechanic also check the transmission, describing what had been going on. I felt a little foolish because it was so subtle, and I thought it was probably nothing. I was told I had to leave the car. The manager called a few hours later and told me that transmission was completely shot, the car was not drivable, and they needed to keep it to replace the transmission.
That night I laid in bed contemplating this and the psychic’s messages and I saw the connection. My father was holding up a blue car with an orange flag, warning me about the danger of driving the car. He was trying to save me from a horrific accident. I believe he did.
Now I see the blue butterfly, representing the blue model car and my car, and the butterfly representing the spirit of my father, and the circles representing the spirit as well, and finally, the orange color representing the orange warning flag. The meaning wasn’t planned, but now when I see the painting that’s what I think about.
Wonderfully Wacky
My past self would read all of this and think, “Well, that’s pretty out there, I’m not sure I believe it.” You may be thinking that as well. I would not blame you. However, now that these things have happened to me, I have come to accept them as a mysterious, intriguing, and enriching aspect of my life that I digest and express in my artwork. So, now when you see a painting of mine that shows a butterfly or a circle, you will know that those symbols represent messages from a spirit dear to my heart.
Do you have colors or objects that hold special meaning to you? Let me know. I’d love to hear about it. Who knows, you may inspire a future painting!