A couple of weeks ago I was at my denomination's central office for an advisory committee meeting. It was three days of conversation and community building. We talked about grants and our visions for the future of the denomination.
I dug into these relationships and was fed by the connections.
And I nearly lost my mind in the meetings.
Or I would have, had I not been comfortable enough to let my hands wander as we talked. I started with corn, meant for one of the staff. Part way through it was clear that the piece was a better fit for a different staff person, which meant I "needed" to make another drawing for the original staff person.
As we talked, I worked, grateful for the confidence that our group had in me--that this drawing was a way for me to stay engaged (someday I'll write more about the congregation that asked me to put away my crayons in worship--and the shame that welled up in me in response). In grad school when my brain wandered, I ended up on Facebook and totally disconnected from the people around. Drawing has made me sink deeper into the moment and place where I find myself, has let me be more present. I made five drawings over those meetings, and left one with each staff person.
Soon after coming back from Louisville, one of the staff persons posted the drawing of the hand on my facebook page and a conversation followed that made me realize that I'd forgotten to draw an image for one of the staff people. Horrified--because, rightly or not, my ego has made me think that these crayon ramblings are gifts-- I committed to making one more to send to Eileen.
So yesterday, after a long and hard day, I curled up on the couch with a glass of wine and my crayons. I offered that time and space to myself and to the page and let go as a pumpkin emerged.
I do not know how I choose colors or subjects. I only just trust what comes because those pieces come from somewhere here and now.
I dug into these relationships and was fed by the connections.
And I nearly lost my mind in the meetings.
Or I would have, had I not been comfortable enough to let my hands wander as we talked. I started with corn, meant for one of the staff. Part way through it was clear that the piece was a better fit for a different staff person, which meant I "needed" to make another drawing for the original staff person.
As we talked, I worked, grateful for the confidence that our group had in me--that this drawing was a way for me to stay engaged (someday I'll write more about the congregation that asked me to put away my crayons in worship--and the shame that welled up in me in response). In grad school when my brain wandered, I ended up on Facebook and totally disconnected from the people around. Drawing has made me sink deeper into the moment and place where I find myself, has let me be more present. I made five drawings over those meetings, and left one with each staff person.
Soon after coming back from Louisville, one of the staff persons posted the drawing of the hand on my facebook page and a conversation followed that made me realize that I'd forgotten to draw an image for one of the staff people. Horrified--because, rightly or not, my ego has made me think that these crayon ramblings are gifts-- I committed to making one more to send to Eileen.
So yesterday, after a long and hard day, I curled up on the couch with a glass of wine and my crayons. I offered that time and space to myself and to the page and let go as a pumpkin emerged.
I do not know how I choose colors or subjects. I only just trust what comes because those pieces come from somewhere here and now.
