All fear is when we feel separate.
When we remember we are connected, fear dissolves.
As I created this painting I was preparing for the event Finding Hope 2018. I was meditating both on things that break my heart and also the healing power of connection.
Painting this mother and baby elephant series was a concrete reminder of both the longing for refuge, shelter, and protection and also the deep truth that these elephants demonstrate of connection.
When we remember to walk together in life, though the greatest struggles remain, we are less alone. And finding this 'us' will be the path through. Stepping out of isolation and into the comfort and care of community.
This painting is created with permission inspired by the photography of national geographic photographer Ronan Donovan.
"Finding Us" 48" x 48" (c) Bronwen Mayer Henry (AVAILABLE) (Inspired by Ronan Donovan)
Art is Healing
Art is healing.
Art can transform the energy of the space and the energy in your heart.
I recently had an urgent request for a piece. After a few years of stability, my friend had a series of three seizures in close succession. Two of which her 11 year old daughter found her. Their family was shaken. They felt afraid in their own home, alert and wondering when it might happen next. She asked me to create one of my mother/baby elephants for them as a reminder of safety, shelter, refuge.
I put aside my current projects and created this piece. Before beginning I wrote a prayer with chalk on the canvas. Then I started painting. And I got the most gentle message. I share it with you here.
Let go of all expectation and hope.
Dwell completely in this moment.
Know that what is happening is an expansion of love.
There is nothing required of you but to show up, breathe, rest, and extend love however you can.
The rest will take care of itself. That's all.
Certainty does not lie ahead for any of us. And yet meditating on the deepest refuge available. The place within us that can't be harmed. The connections between us that can't be broken. Meditating on this will change you and your ability to face your life.
"Held" 48" x 36" (c) Bronwen Mayer Henry (Acrylic on Canvas)
#held #bronwenmayerhenry #elephantsheal#healing #artheals #letgo #meditation#visualprayer #truerefuge
Art Opening
Last week my first show at an art gallery, Abington Art Center opened! I tried to play it cool when they put my name on the wall, but it wasn't easy! What was easy? Chatting all night about my art. Here were the top three questions I was asked (and my responses):
"How do I make the time?" I paint early, paint first before kids wake up if needed and before I go to work. I have a plan (just like you put out gym shoes at night if you are running in the morning) so I don't hesitate. I dive right in.
"How long have you painted for?" I've painted in a committed daily way for almost five years. It was great fun to tell the story of how I got started. Sharing my first painting "Radioactive" in the gallery was a real treat.
"How do you choose your subject matter?" (Also sounded like, "Why flowers AND trees?") I described how I follow joy. I let nature inspire me, I let color speak to me and I go for it.
One thing I realized as I answered these questions and many others is that working on my book (still in pursuit of agent/publisher) has helped me to refine so many of my thoughts and approaches to creativity. Of course these are constantly evolving/growing and yet there is a strong foundation of ideas there. I look forward to sharing more!
Thank you to all who came out! If you are in the Abington area the next 6-8 weeks stop on by. The show will be up through the first week of June.
Missed the opening and want to connect? I will also be part of a morning program on Saturday May 12th 10-12 "Coffee with the Artist" together with local ceramicist Christina Orthwein.
To my delight I will be offering an Open Heart Studio IN the gallery space. This is a special one time offering on June 2nd 10am-1pm. Grab a friend and save your spot!
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Laurel House Opens New Office
With each original I sell, I donate 10% to non-profits making a difference. One of the non-profits I've been able to support is the Laurel House working to end domestic violence.
I'm touched that with Laurel House moving to a new office they chose to decorate with many of my Society6 prints.
New Project Announcement (Something that Scared me as much as that first big painting)
I am pleased to share with you my newest project, Radioactive Painting (How a Cancer Treatment Lit Up My Creative Practice), a book I've written to share the profound turning point in my life of stepping into creativity and compassion. I hope it will help nurture the creative (and compassionate) spark in others.
Right now I'm in the hair-raising-prayer-inducing process of sending out my proposal to potential agents and publishers. (I welcome any leads!) Why did I feel compelled to write? How in the world did I find time to write a book, paint, and do my day job and spend time with my family?
When I was in isolation for thyroid cancer treatment, I created this painting (below), " A New Story Was Needed and So She Wrote It." In addition to painting, writing has been a core component of my healing.
I wrote this manuscript over a course of 18 months, much of my writing time was between 5-6:30am and also two self-initiated writing retreat weekends to do major in-depth edits and re-arranging.
Writing this book has been a work of the heart. I have felt compelled to share this experience. Writing has been a way for me to synthesize and digest the lessons learned through cancer and at the canvas.
While writing, I have wrestled self-doubt and discovered my humanity. I'm struck by the power of showing up daily toward a goal and actually making some progress (even when it doesn't feel like it). One of my grounding mantras was from Glennon Doyle, "What is the most beautiful and true story you can tell?"
I am open to sharing my story more broadly and curious what that might look like. If you or anyone you now might help me make new connections--I'm open!
Thank you for all the encouragement and support along the way. I'm excited about this new step in sharing my story and a message of compassion and helping others to step into creativity as well.
Big Milestone...Displaying work (in solo show) in Gallery for First Time
I am sooooo stinking excited to share with you.... that I’m displaying my work at Abington Art Center! A solo show! Filled with big beautiful white walls. I’m so grateful for this opportunity. Please plan to visit April and May this year. With an opening on a Friday April 13th 6-8pm.
Open Heart Studio Workshop at Valley Hair
What a Difference Five Years Makes
This is a photo from a recent Open Heart Studio workshop I offered. You might notice it is at Valley Hair. You might notice the easels, the colors, the open heart mantras.
It just so happens, that I five years ago, to the day I was in a different place. 5 years (to the day of this workshop) ago I had just learned about the possibility of having Thyroid Cancer.
I am in awe of the transformation that has unfolded in my life over that period of time. Painting has been a gift that has helped me to find presence and compassion (as well as the pure joy of creation).
In Open Heart Studio, participants have the opportunity to safely step into silence and color, to open to gentleness and joy. The gratitude I feel for the opportunity to share my delight in the practice, the meditative practice of painting, is enormous.
I look forward to continuing this monthly tradition. Stay tuned for some exciting updates about upcoming sessions.
The juxtaposition of this anniversary (of diagnosis) and the way my life has filled with color and compassion is a reminder to me that for each of us beauty can arrive that is unexpected. I hold a hope and a prayer for each of us that though the hard moments of life cannot be avoided, there is comfort and hope (even beauty) waiting for us.
"Blueberries for Peace" 24" x 24" (c) Bronwen Mayer Henry (Acrylic on Canvas) SOLD
Blueberries for Peace
With each commission I work on I ask the collector if there is anything I can hold for them in prayer. This is an integral part of my creative practice. It centers me in the transformative impact of creativity to open compassion rather then slipping into the familiar yet tiresome act of performance and striving to be 'good enough'.
With these blueberries, the collector gave me an unexpected prayer request, to pray for world peace. What a humbling invitation. Who am I to pray for world peace? What does world peace have to do with blueberries?
I have experienced that I don't have to know how it all will weave together. That something unexpected will emerge.
And sure enough, to my surprise, these are blueberries for peace. As I worked I contemplated the deep longing for world peace and the simplicity (and beauty) of an individual blueberry. I mean honestly what is more perfect than a ripe blueberry warmed by the summer sun? If you could sit still and savor a blueberry you might experience inner peace. Which seems like a lovely stepping stone toward world peace.
As is often the case once I start something I am eager to do more. So I went ahead and created more blueberries for peace. These blueberries I call "Remember Peace I and Remember Peace II" 30" x 30" (c) Bronwen Mayer Henry. They are currently on display at High Point Cafe.
I donate 10% of each original sold to a non-profit answering prayers in practical ways. I follow the inspiration of the painting content or prayer. For these blueberries I will be donating to the Interfaith Center of Greater Philadelphia. So much of conflict has religious roots and the work they are doing of building bridges and conversations is definitely towards a more peaceful world.
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Peace in the Valley
Peace in the Valley
This painting was created with a prayer for peace in the valleys of life. As I worked so much peace washed over me. I was reminded that though there are rocks along the way there is a gentle force flowing, moving around any obstacles. There is movement and in that gentle movement, there is comfort.
May you find peace in any valleys you are currently navigating. May remember to look at the delicate flowers along the edge of your path. May you trust in the flow carrying you along.
Original available for purchase! Contact artist for details.
78" x 48" (c) Bronwen Mayer Henry (Acrylic on Canvas)
Prints (and products) available here: https://society6.com/product/peace-in-the-valley837532_print#s6-7833589p4a1v45
Facing Sacred Moments
I saw a woman stand at her daughter's memorial service, with grace and gratitude, honesty and vulnerability. She spoke hope into the face of great darkness. She heroically faced a sacred moment in her life (rather than hiding, numbing, denying).
And yet I also honor what is not seen. The smaller moments. The unobserved moments. Waking up repeatedly with the loss of a loved one. Looking into the dark abyss of your heartache and choosing to keep walking.
In our society we celebrate specific things. We celebrate grad school and running long distances, but do we celebrate the quiet, hidden, moments of courage? Do we honor the daily heroism present behind closed doors and locked in hearts?
Being alive is heroic. Being alive and willing to face sacred moments is a gift to everyone around you.
I created these irises inspired by this woman, in memory of her daughter. Honoring her journey. Honoring her daughters journey. I think of irises, at least the varieties that grow near me, they are humble in the way the plant grows. They spread easily. They are hardy. And yet. Once they flower you realize the royalty, the exquisite beauty present right there. That is what this painting honors. It honors the blow your mind beauty present in ordinary life. That beauty feels destroyed when a loved one dies. And that beauty is restored as we learn to see it all around us. The courage to face life after such tremendous loss is like that gorgeous purple iris opening. It comes in ordinary/modest way, and yet its impact is extraordinary.
(left to right)
"Facing Sacred Moments I" 30" x 30" (SOLD)
"Facing Sacred Moments II" 30" x 30" (AVAILABLE)
"Facing Sacred Moments III" 30" x 30" (SOLD)
Remember the Presence of Love.
This morning tears were dropping down my cheeks as I painted. I don't know if it was compassion fatigue. Overwhelm about people suffering from destruction of hurricanes. The despair of racism and the current presidency. Maybe it is the sadness over the new cancer diagnosis of a friend's son and the courage needed for that battle. The very prayers I am holding at this canvas, "open to new life" "accepting uncertainty" and "peace in between", touch me personally. Being alive is so courageous. Battling for your life is courageous. Letting go is courageous. Tears fall for my brother in law who died suddenly just 10 months ago.
I sit and look at these magnolias. They are as delicate and elegant as a flower could be. Even in this incomplete stage, there is a calm and comfort that comes off of them.
And I'm reminded. Reminded that in the face of life's hardest battles, the darkest grief and deepest pain, beauty can help resuscitate us, and remind us of what is really true. If there is anything I know for sure, that this last year has taught me, it is that love keeps going.
Love is the wind in the leaves. Love is the friend helping you through a hard time. Love is speaking truth, taking a knee. Love is holding your hand during a nightmare you can't wake from. Love is present with you in the emptiness. Love is calling to you through the noise. When I am still enough, a stillness that comes to me with brushstrokes, I remember this presence of love.
#workinprogress
It's Not About the Hustle
“Time at the canvas is my commitment to myself to be still. To remember the love that is available and flows in to each one of us.”
It's not about the hustle. Art is prayer. Not another todo item. Don't get confused, friends.
I have been nearing confusion myself. I find myself in a storm of hustle. So many errands, outings, activities, and also the ordinary every day meals and cleaning, the list goes on and I know your list is longer than mine.
Yesterday someone looked at me in disbelief. "How do you do it all?" She said. And I stopped. I wanted her (and you) to know, painting for me is not another thing I get done. For me fitting painting into my life is about slowing down. It is about making space. It is resting. It is restoration.
As the Bahai' tradition says, my art is my prayer. Every moment at the canvas is as worshipful as a moment in meditation, as soul restoring as standing on a mountain top, as contemplative as a moment in a pew. My time at the canvas is my commitment to myself to be still. To remember the love that is available and flows in to each one of us. As I move the paint, following the edge of a flower, looking into the shadows of trees and leaves, I fall in love. Again and again. I fall in love with being alive. I fall in love with nature. I fall in love with God. I remember that even though life is terrifying, and the list of fears are long, this moment is enough and I am here. Breathing.
Don't get confused and think that I or another am doing a lot and you have to get busy and try to do more. It is about doing less. it is about making sabbath practice, prayer, stillness, quiet a priority. It is about carving out time, making it a priority, and slowing down.
Sometimes it does look like (or feel like) a hustle to make the time. But I want to remind you (and me): don't get confused. The only point is to be present. There is no other place to hurry and get to other than this very moment.
https://www.facebook.com/BronwenMayerHenry/videos/1401854329928629/
Unexpected Commissions
Sometimes commissions come at the most unexpected times. I love moments in life that remind me how connected we are to each other.
Six months ago I was in Florida with my family. While watching the kids swim, I sat on the edge of the hot tub, and met a friendly couple from New York. We only interacted a few moments before I was called back to the pool with my kids. And in that brief interaction I mentioned how I'm a painter and how I got into painting along an unexpected path with Thyroid Cancer. They seemed very interested and asked my name (remembering that is an achievement in itself). A few weeks later I was delighted to receive an email from the couple and their interest in commissioning a painting. It turns out the woman had also navigated Thyroid Cancer recently and our stories were connected.
When we connected on the phone, I was reminded of how each of our stories hold common themes. The grounding in gratitude. The sense of vulnerability.
I ended up creating these Hydrangeas for her. (I often work in a series for commissions giving the collector a choice. She chose the middle one.) And I named this series "Courage to Surrender" I found myself reflecting on the courage to surrender to pain, and the courage to surrender to joy. The courage to surrender to our failures and the courage to surrender to our path and purpose.
Left to Right:
"Courage to Surrender I " 24" x 36" Available
"Courage to Surrender II " 24" x 36" SOLD
"Courage to Surrender III " 24" x 36" Available
(c) Bronwen Mayer Henry (Acrylic on Canvas)
Shipping Options Available. Contact Artist for Details.
Do things have to make sense to do them?
Do things have to make sense to do them?
I'm not sure. I recently built this large canvas (78" x 48"). And decided that I would do my first attempt at water/creek. I was a bit nervous to get started. And that is the point. Leaving my comfort zone. On one level it doesn't make sense to build my largest canvas to date and attempt new subject matter all at once. But I've learned that it doesn't have to always make sense. I still have a lot of work to do on this painting. I've been reflecting on the flow of providence in my life. How even with many rocks and barriers there, I'm being carried along. And I believe you are too.
#workinprogress
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As I paint, I also have in my awareness the many people impacted by the destructive forces of flooding from Harvey and the many people anticipating Hurricane Irma. Holding space that even in the face of such chaos, the care and support of community can help them hold on to confidence in love working in it all.
Delivery Day
Delivery day! Driving this painting "Stronger Together" to its new joyful family friendly home.
How to Make an Imperfect Offering
How to Make an Imperfect Offering
This week I've had a few chances to get to the canvas. I've started this new hydrangea series. And all the while I've had this aching feeling. Aching and disbelief at the terror and racism that persists in my country. I have felt uncertainty about how to do anything about it. And doubt that painting may be the most irrelevant (and privileged) thing I could possibly do.
And then I realized something. That at the canvas. For the past four years. I've been learning how to make an imperfect offering. How to show up. With my whole heart. Do my very best. And celebrate that.
And I think whether it is at the canvas or speaking out against hatred and racism we need to show up. And make an imperfect offering. Do our very best. Use all the creativity, skill, love, wisdom we have in us. And that as a result there will be a healing and possibility present in us and around us that wasn't there before.
Blank Canvas As My Teacher
Last weekend I gave a talk at a local church. I shared three ideas to keep in mind when you approach a blank canvas. I shared a story of how my experience at the canvas has helped me in my life.
Not shown is how right before I went on stage to share a few prepared reflections the band sang this gorgeous song. I was feeling choked up. And suddenly my feet were heavy and I thought how I'd rather be at the canvas than public speaking. And yet, I went for it anyway. Trusting (and hoping and praying) that sharing this reflection might be useful to others.
You are part of something beautiful.
I'm walking on the beach with my daughter and niece, collecting shells. As the girls delight over intact shells, I'm drawn to the broken ones. There is so much to love about the variety of the broken ones, just the way they are. I hold one in my hand getting to know its sharp points and smooth edges while I keep searching. After recognizing the pattern of how I am in fact seeking out flawed shells, I hold a piece of a whelk and silently acknowledge: "You are part of something beautiful." Hoping this message will sink into my own heart as well.
The sea oats stand by and witness my morning beach reflections. I pause, with the ocean at my back, looking out at the sea oats. I want to capture this moment. I want my art to hold space for the beauty of imperfection.
This accepting attitude is one which continues to breathe energy, courage, trust, freedom and movement into my work. No part of me says, "I will perfectly capture this." or "I know exactly how this will turn out."
My intention in my creativity is to embrace the imperfection and beauty of life. By doing this, repeatedly, I find so much joy. What I hope for you is that you will hold all of the imperfect parts of yourself with compassion and know that you are also part of something beautiful.
Witnessing Beauty I, II, III, IV 24" x 24" , 24" x 24", 24" x24", 24" x24: (Series available to purchase, For sale individually or as a series, contact artist for details.)
Calm a Weary
These peonies can calm a weary soul.
(I know this is true, for they calmed my own.)
They are a source of rest and energy at the same time.
(How can this be? I don't know. Decide for yourself.)
You might wonder,
"Is there more color there than I thought?"
You look deeper, and ponder,
"How is it I can feel calm and a sense of possibility at the same time?"
There is a burst of color that can't be held back.
(This canvas dances, like that penguin in Happy Feet.)
Doing its own thing.
Moving to its own rhythm.
There is gentleness right there with the boldness.
Undemanding. Still the color bursts forth.
Brighter than you first thought.
Dancing without hesitation.
These peonies didn't open because of pressure or policy.
They didn't reveal their beauty after intensive research.
They bloomed when they were ready and with abandon.
They were made to bloom. (And so are you.)
***
Left to right:
"Made to Bloom" (48" x 36") (Acrylic on Canvas)
(c) Bronwen Mayer Henry SOLD
"Calm the Weary" (48" x 36") (Acrylic on Canvas)
(c) Bronwen Mayer Henry
(These paintings are available for purchase. Shipping options and payment plans available. Please contact me directly for details.)