This is the opening spread of a new article featuring my story in the magazine Real Woman. Of course 'Creative Genius' feels overly bold to me...I think what is most true is we are all genius's when we remember to step into our creativity and our joy.
Read more here: http://realwomanonline.com/creative/
100 Paintings (Celebrating Milestones)
This week has been a big week for me. I just completed my 100th large painting.
If you had told me 3 years ago that I would be painting daily, creating larger paintings than I've ever created before, selling them, getting to share creative projects with care and love through prayer and painting...I would have turned my head to the side with confusion (like my dear sweet puppy does when I give him a command). I would have furrowed my eyebrows and said "Wait, what?"
This experience, this unexpected arrival and stepping into something that brings me so much joy, the opportunity to share that joy with others has humbled me in a profound way. It has given me the confidence to say to another: "It will not always be like this." "Change is possible" "Transformation is possible." "This shit storm you are in, might be clearing the way for something beautiful. It is overwhelming as hell right now. It is real. It is hard. And out of the shit/compost of life beauty grows.
So I share with you my celebration of the creation of my 100th painting. 100 canvases of joy, tears, and authentically experiencing life as it unfolds (and wrapping it in compassion).
New Development: Offering and Helping to Answer Prayers Through Paintings
I am feeling so grateful to share this new development in my painting efforts.
If you've followed my work, you know that prayer is a big part of my
painting experience. With each painting, each brush stroke, I am spending time in prayer. I have a confidence around prayer and how it is transformative. I feel clear that prayer is about changing the person who offers the prayer. I also feel that praying compels us to action. Perhaps in quiet unseen ways, perhaps in big ways.
A few weeks ago I made the decision that with each original painting I sell I will donate 10% to an organization that serves the needs related to what I'm holding in prayer while working.
Some examples:
1. I recently completed a custom painting for a friend, her prayer requests were about having a hope and a future and I've decided to send 10% to an orphanage that offers children a hope and a future.
2. For the painting I'm doing for a young woman navigating an eating disorder, I will donate to an organization that supports young women having a better future around the world.
3. There is a painting I worked on during the anniversary of my Radioactive Iodine Treatment for thyroid cancer and I donated 10% of the sale of that painting to THYCA supporting Thyroid Cancer Survivors.
It is my hope to continue to give back to non-profits that are offering care and support to a variety of needs. Non-profits that are helping to answer prayers. Here is information on the non-profits I've been able to support so far.
My heart is so happy to know that in addition to a gentle, peaceful time painting, in addition to a beautiful play of color on a canvas, I get to give back in a small way to helping to answer so many heartfelt prayer requests and prayers.
It would be my joy to collaborate with the person buying the painting on the non-profit that they are lit up about that are helping to make the world a better place. This feels like a full circle aspect of my painting experience and I am grateful to the many people who have invested in my pieces and made it possible for me to give back in this way.
Art Show Opening Talk
In the face of so much suffering in the world, it can seem almost wrong to stop and celebrate creativity. And yet, perhaps that is an important response. To hold those suffering in our prayers, to offer our help and care, and to create spaces for beauty and joy in the world.
It was an honor to do a third annual music and art night with Michelle Chapin. She has a authenticity, wit and joy to her music that is infectious.
Doing another art show is such an honor and a joy and a mystery in my life. I genuinely maintain the sense of surprise as I did at the first show of how did I get to be here?
Many of you know my story (or parts of it) and here is a recap.
I was diagnosed in February 2013 with Thyroid Cancer. In some ways this is a 'great cancer' and it really is because the outcomes are so good. And yet as anyone who has navigated Thyroid Cancer will tell you there are some significant hardships financial, surgeries, lifetime maintenance etc. And there is the actual treatment. For me it included a total thyroidectomy and because the cancer was found in my lymph nodes Radioactive Iodine treatment, my dose required 7 days in isolation.
In anticipation of that time of isolation I decided (if I was feeling well enough) that I would paint. I hadn't painted in more than 3 years at this time in my life. And I also wanted to up the game. So I bought a canvas more than 3x bigger than anything I'd painted before.
A memory came to me so vividly the other day was the moment of being handed the pill. A friend brought me to the hospital. I was in the waiting room of the Nuclear Medicine department (close to the exit!) and they called my name. I had already had pre-procedure meetings where I was oriented to safety precautions etc. So this really was just a 'swallow a pill' and leave' moment. They led me to a back room. The technician put on gloves for protection. They opened a lead box. They opened a small lead container in that box. They used tongs of some sort and picked up the pill. They put it in a cup and handed it to me. To swallow. I remember that moment and really thinking I might just run from the room, department, building screaming and never look back. And of course that would be embarrassing. But also I needed to face this moment. I had my blank canvas in my friend's home waiting for me. I took a breath and I swallowed. Then they ushered me out of the space about as quickly as possible.
And I was alone. And my painting journey began.
That was two and a half years ago. I thought it would be my first and last time painting big.
And yet something awakened for me in that time. And I choose to honor it. To not have to be sick or going through a treatment to get to paint.
I've now completed more than 90 large paintings. 22 of which are hanging at BeWell Cafe today.
I will tell you that now that I have developed a habit and even (gasp) a bit of a career around painting. I look back and wonder why I wasn't painting long ago? And the only thing I can come up with was that I wasn't good enough, or rather others were better. I had no respect for how painting transformed ME I only had comparison and insecurity that others were much better and therefore I wouldn't paint. To me this now seems absurd, but somehow this just made sense to my young mind.
Now I compare it to running. If someone tells you they are a runner, do you ask "Oh did you win an Olympic gold?" No. We know that we run because it is healthy for our bodies, our minds. We do not expect to be the best at exercise. We do it anyway. I think creativity is the same. Or rather that it should be. It should not be about our external performance, comparison, but honoring the inner transformation that takes place.
For me painting is a time of meditation, transformation. I have especially enjoyed working on commissioned pieces. I see commissions as a chance to connect with someone in a meaningful way. Not only am I being vulnerable by creating a piece for them, but I invite people to be vulnerable and share with me how I can hold them in prayer. it is my experience that every prayer someone asks for always has relevance for me, and I end up holding the other person, myself and really each of us in that prayer.
I have been reflecting recently on the poet Kabir's words: "wherever you are is the entry point." And it is my hope and prayer that for each of us, no matter what struggle we are going through or if something new is opening or expanding we might remember that this place can be an entry point into more compassion and creativity.
Finding Time to Be Creative
How do you find time to for your creative outlet?
For me it has become a necessity. Painting has disproportionate results in my life so I give it significant space and time. Perhaps painting, dance classes, writing workshops feel luxurious or too expensive. Well guess what? Getting cancer is really expensive! (Oi! Let's not talk about all the bills!) Being on medication for depression, relationships falling apart, quitting your job ...all very expensive! Suddenly your creative outlet sounds affordable-doesn't it?
Why not spend the time, space, money up front to relieve stress, step into your
joy, and live a more full life...now. Sometimes retreating into creativity feels selfish to me...and yet the restoration it gives me empowers me to 'return' to the rest of my life to my responsibilities with a peace and joy that is very difficult for me to access otherwise.
People often ask me 'how do I make time for painting' etc. Well, I use facebook less. I watch shows less. I am raising my kids (now 7/5) to do more chores than their peers. I rarely clean when the kids are out of house or asleep. And because as Elizabeth Gilbert put it "Because I knew what I wanted to do (write) and I knew how I wanted to do it (with joyful energy)...and so many, many things had to be let go." And so I say no (or not now). To many things.
In some ways I don't effort at making time for painting. I run towards painting. It is my reprieve, My joy. It is not a burden I have to compel myself to do. It speaks to the well known quote from Confucious "Do what you love and you'll never work a day in your life." In other ways, I effort at it regularly. I have carved out painting time and then I must defend it with my life. Everything threatens this time that I commit to creativity. Meeting up with friends, doing chores, getting extra work done, stray dogs that need catching, you name it!
A friend told me about a writer who was also a full-time engineer. She made a whole career out of writing by writing 15 minutes every morning. This inspired me deeply. It isn't the large chunks of time that we find, but the repetition of small chunks. Or as my dear friend Lori Odhner, a creative genius herself, says she is creative during "the cracks of motherhood." There was a time recently when I would paint between bedtime snack and bedtime. So while the kids got jammies on and brushed their teeth (this was a solid 20-30 minute endeavor) I would paint. That was my crack in motherhood. I'm willing to pick up my brush even if I don't have much time. As the kids get older, I am finding more time.
I also do a lot of the chores related to painting (they don't feel like chores to me) with the kids. Building/stretching/prepping a canvas, researching and exploring in nature for inspiration these are all things I do with my kids (see pic above!). And I lean into the confidence that by showing them what it looks like to integrate creativity into ordinary life I am giving them a gift of sorts.
Now what is a much greater struggle for me, is how to find time to grocery shop.
"Wherever you are is the entry point." Kabir
How will you enter into your creativity today?
"Already Blooming" Finds New Home
Today the painting "Already Blooming" is finding a new home. "Already Blooming" has a soft spot in my heart. I was drawn to paint a flower, opening. I remember right around that time hearing Lupita Nyong'o (2013 Academy Award for Best Supporting Actress in 12 Years a Slave) speak about how "A flower couldn't help but bloom inside me."
This reminds me of the deep goodness and perfection of who we are that is already underway, already unfolding, already blooming whether or not the world threatens to tell us that because of our age, race, gender we are not good enough. I painted this with a hope that we each remember the ways we are 'Already Blooming'.
Sacred Imperative
There are many reasons that painting this series (titled "Sacred Imperative I, II, II) of paintings that could not fit in my home...did not make sense. And yet I felt a clear impulse, a sacred imperative if you will, to do so. I knew I wanted to paint a tree big, very big. I often long to paint trees life size. And I had the idea to use a few canvases together (that would fit in my home) to make it happen.
As I started working on the painting, moving the canvases around, I started laughing. The clear parallels for other parts of my life, and how there doesn't seem to be room for all of me were clear. And so with a self-compassionate laugh I carried on working on this canvas. A friend reminded me: Yes the painting doesn't fit in your home, yes there are places in your life/work where you don't fit...and you are doing it. You are painting this large canvas. You are finding ways to be bigger than some of the boxes around you.
So I offer this painting with a prayer for each of us: May we might fully inhabit our beings. May we be as big, bright, joyful, wise, loving as we are called to be no matter what the forces around us say. And may we each follow the impulse to create and live fully.
"Our creative urges are a sacred imperative." Julia Cameron
Hidden Hope in Hard Times
These three paintings are finished. I painted them at once in a series but each one chose a bit of a different voice. I love the woods in summer. These paintings speaking to me of hidden hope in hard times. Of continuing to walk, trusting the path. Sparks of joy in it all.
How Cancer Led Me to Paint Big
Like most journeys mine was filled with bumps and turns. On a bitter cold day in February 2013, I sat on my kitchen floor trying to register an unexpected thyroid cancer diagnosis. I could never have imagined that this discouraging experience would land me where I am today.
Shortly after being diagnosed with cancer, I attended a women’s retreat. We were asked to create a list of wildly impossible life goals. One of my goals was to “paint daily.” In writing about this list later, it struck me that daily painting actually seemed possible. Though at that time, I hadn’t painted in three years, I already owned plenty of paints, brushes and an easel, which were currently occupying some dusty corner of my attic.
As part of my thyroid cancer treatment, I knew I would have to take a radioactive pill and be in isolation for seven days. An inspiration came to me as I prepared for this medical treatment. I would use these seven days alone (a sort of luxury for a mom of young children) as a retreat. I wanted a joyful terror (painting on a larger scale than I had ever attempted before) instead of just the terror of the medical treatment.
I bought a canvas more than four times bigger than I'd ever painted before. And I made a rule: I wasn't allowed to start that painting until after I swallowed that pill.
Even down to the moment of holding that pill in the intimidating small back room of the hospital—the pill that came in a lead case in a lead box that was handed to me by a technician who then backed quickly away—I didn't know if I could do it...if I could actually swallow. For me, swallowing that pill was climbing Mt Everest.
I never could have guessed how profound the period of isolation ended up being for me. Never in my life had I spent seven days alone, let alone seven days painting. In those first seven days, I completed more than twenty watercolors and two large acrylic paintings .
Painting was a refuge. It was empowerment. It was inspiration.
I will never forget that time, and I will always remember it with that first painting, called “Radioactive.” At the end of my isolation, I thought that would be the last time I ever painted big. (Spoiler alert: I've now made more than seventy LARGE paintings).
Why I continue to make space to paint
Somewhere along the way I decided I don't have to have cancer to get to spend time alone or to restore your soul. I don't have to be sick to 'get a break' from work or parenting. I had such a transformative experience during those seven days, that I chose to honor that experience by continuing to make space and time to paint. I gave away our guest room furniture and took over that room as a painting space. Now, with my health restored, I choose to remember the divine feeling I have while painting and to consciously give it space in my life.
Why I paint what I paint
I find renewal in nature. The trees remind me of the scripture “The leaves of the trees are for the healing of the nations.” I hold a space for healing within me and for those around me. I am often drawn to painting aspens, meditating on their beauty and also their interconnected root systems, which reminds me how connected we all are. Each painting I do is filled with prayer, meditation, and joy.
Painting and Prayer
It is my hope and prayer for each of us that we might face our fears, that we might be courageous, that we might let hard situations transform us, that we might know our interconnectedness with others and feel the comfort that comes from that connection, and that, in our own way, we might step through a gateway into compassion. With this hope in mind, I welcome custom commissions; I find absolute joy in hearing a client’s own hopes and prayers, which I then meditate on while painting.
Fearless Heart Reflections
What if you could soar over all your worries? Free of restraints and burdens? Open to possibilities? What if you knew the beauty and perfection of your creation? What if you had a fearless heart?
"Oh soul, you worry too much. You have seen your own strength. You have seen your own beauty. You have seen your golden wings. Of anything less, why do you worry? You are in truth the soul, of the soul, of the soul." Rumi
"Fearless Heart I" 24" x 48", "Fearless Heart I" 24" x 48" Acrylic on Canvas (c) Bronwen Mayer Henry(These paintings are currently available to purchase.)
Each Moment is Enough (or Blueberry Bliss)
I recently received some news that led me down a path of fear and worry. My body, being a responsible citizen, wanted to be sure I registered the stress. While doing simple yoga stretches, I was suddenly unable to move my neck and experiencing a lot of pain. I saw my massage therapist (Ali Childs who is amazing and made it so I could turn my head again). My sweet mom massaged arnica cream on the most sore areas which brought comfort. But it wasn't until I went blueberry picking that I found relief from my fears and worries (and as a result the residual pain in my neck). Something about walking amongst rows of gorgeous bushes just bursting with sweetness consumed me completely, and I rested into the bounty and blessing of the present. I am thankful I had the chance to paint whispers of this joyful moment of reprieve.
“Be happy in the moment, that's enough. Each moment is all we need, not more.”
― Mother Teresa
About the Woods
I have always loved the woods. I grew up going to camp in central Pennsylvania woods. It was a place of restoration. Now that I live in Pennsylvania I can't get enough of the woods near my home. I'm working on this series of three (incomplete) inspired by camping trips this summer. And remembering solitude is always available to me.
