Expressive Kavannah

When I first moved to Israel, I took an art class called Expressive Kavannah, which combined meditation, movement, lessons from Judaism and philosophy, and culminating in expression through art (sculpture, drawing, painting etc.).  I enjoyed the class, but got busy with 'stuff', and it has been too many years since I granted free reign to my creative side;  note that taking photos of Raphaela does not count, as much as I love her.

Happily, the teacher re-activated the class and I attended the first lesson today;  my ability to allow the creative impulse to flow, to let go of the contraints of my reality worked out better than I expected.  The theme of the meditation was Genesis, the concept of creation vs creating, and the idea that the Universe can respond to our needs in an infinite number of ways.

And my Christmas list is long, my friends.  One of the reasons I can take a class in the middle of the afternoon is because work remains slower than I would like, I worry about paying the bills and having enough left over to take care of mine and Raphaela's basic needs.  At least three "older women" from my neighborhood (ie women my age, without children) have gotten engaged or married in the last week, and I wonder when I will meet the my soulmate, and a loving father for Raphaela.  I thank G-d every day that I have not yet ruined my daughter, and hope that I can continue to figure out what I may be doing wrong, before it negatively affects her.

For me, this painting started as a representation of the Big Bang and space, infinite possibility and a far greater perspective on the stressors of our life, when we realize that we are but a speck on planet Earth, and that Gaea is but a speck in the Andromeda Galaxay, and that our galaxy is one of many expanding millions of stars. (With thanks to Douglas Adams...)  At some point in the process of the image, I stopped thinking rationally and realized that my Earth was tapping into the energy of the Universe with a psuedo umbilical cord , and that I was actually grabbing to hold onto the Sun as as source of power and strength.  The movement of space became a wave form, crashing over my fears and frustrations, and the empty space an invitation for abundance in every aspect of my life.

Without noticing, my brush went on thick and intense, in van Gogh like strokes, as I layered color on top of color.

The existential creation question is asked:  how could we fallible and finite humans exist in the place where the Higher Power lives, in his/her perfection and infinite-ness?  The Zohar answers that G-d receeded, that he/she took a small step back to allow for us puzzling creatures to live and grow and make mistakes.  That is the white area of my painting, the unknown future and the faith I need to tell myself that it will all work out.

I present this piece, entitled "From Chaos, Order"