Tag Archives: art

love be like*

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waterfall.

I really enjoy the process of making prophetic art, because it can take many twists and turns and surprises along the way.  Typically, I will have a word, a colour, a shape, or a person to start with.

On this particular day, I only had the desire to paint.  And then a request for a painting came in.  I don’t think I have EVER painted on a request before, and I said so, but I also said, “I will pray about it.”  Little did I know that the desire to paint was right in front of me.  Within a few minutes a song began to roll off my lips, and the painting poured out with more passion that I could ever imagine was possible…what a gift!
Your love is like a waterfall, waterfall
Running wild and free
You hear my heart when I call, when I call
Deep calls, too deep
Your love is like a waterfall, waterfall
Raining down on me
[Chris Tomlin]
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Walk a minute in my shoes

Do you carry art supplies around with you in your purse?”

This was a question I was asked this week. Although it is true that inspiration hardly waits for the convenience of paper, carrying supplies with me was not something I had ever considered before.

What do I do when I am hiking? What about when I’m on the toilet? What if I lose my purse????

Somehow, I have to carry something of even GREATER convenience with me. Somewhere that LEDs don’t dull and pages don’t bend. Somewhere deeper.

So that’s when I announced that “I carry around my art supplies in my shoes!”

What does that even mean?! I must be nuts. Pencil crayons don’t fit in shoes.

It means I AM the paint brush, pencil crayons, and paper.
I am also the canvas.
My fingers are brushes, ready for work at any time, and I always have them with me. My eyes are the canvas on which I paint the depths of my heart; my actions are the medium I use.

In this way, art supplies are incredibly limiting.

“Jesus bent down and started to write on the ground with his finger.”
John 8:6

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“Consuming”

Consuming, by Misty Bedwell, feeling paint

This painting was an 18-month-long process that took on many different colours and sizes after the flicker of inspiration first gripped me.  Had I known it would need so much time and uncertainty to become fully alive, I probably would have asked myself different questions along the way.

However, “not knowing” caused me to learn more about these things:

  • I don’t have to know what it is going to look like before I start.
  • The first time likely isn’t going to be the best time.
  • Unfinished is beautiful too.
  • Mistakes are opportunities to be creative.

I have felt so thankful for those who have displayed copious amounts of patience with my process (longest painting EVER!)  In this case, time was a necessary key to inspiration.  If I were brave, I would show you all the “FAILed” prior attempts, but I hesitate simply because I cannot yet describe WHY they didn’t meet the expression I was looking for.  It is the indescribable knowing that it’s not right that draws me back to the drawing board time and again, not with discouragement (as some would suppose), but with time-taught determination.

“Because the Sovereign LORD helps me, I will not be disgraced. Therefore, I have set my face like a stone, determined to do his will. And I know that I will not be put to shame.”

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“Play Full”

play full

Being completely understood as a human being and an artist used to be very important to me. Not that I tried really hard to communicate properly, I just felt sad when nobody seemed to *get it*.

A LOT of assumptions were made in those days…

Over the years I’ve found meaning in the process of trying to find words that articulate what is going on inside of me, and I’ve also deemed the people around me important enough to experiment on. So if you don’t get it the first time, I will try another angle…

This bird is me.

So, here’s to growing little! It’s not that I don’t want to grow up…that would be a waste of time. But I want to forget that it hurt when I tried before and assumed I had failed. I want to return to the place where I “cried & tried” instead of “gave up.” I want to become wiser by taking more risks, simpler by moving more rocks, and free to dance.

Is any of this making sense?! If not, maybe turn your computer screen upside down, nod your head every few seconds and say, “hmmm”…

Let’s get simple together.

“…unless you are converted and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven.” Matt 18:3

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“the SOUND of healing”

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[Will be available at the Crystal Gala silent auction fundraiser for breast cancer research, October 18, 2014.]

I actually didn’t know I had this in me…but when it came out, there was a sense of relief and joy so full it only made sense that it had actually been there all along. You see, my mom had breast cancer. Twice. And now that she is on the mend again, there is a different side of cancer journey that I am experiencing alongside her: it is the sound of healing.

I have done the violent “FIGHTER” painting to depict the strength it takes to endure the process, but this was equally as needed. There is hope.

I realize that not everyone who has cancer gets to experience this side of the journey, but all hope for it. And I think if it had a sound, this is what it would sound like…

Dance like light, where joy belongs
The paths ahead make different songs
The life inside, a gift to cherish
Beauty and hope will never perish

Music on Canvas
By Misty Bedwell

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“pursuing you”

Every time feels like the first time.

In a way, it was a first. This was the first work that came out of my new studio, so I am feeling sentimental about it. I find myself wishing I could keep it around for a little while longer, but it will be going to its new home in a few short weeks.

In my new studio, there is a tiny rounded patio, only for the purpose of romance in my opinion…because I swing open the doors while I paint and push the music and inspiration outside with my brush and voice.

The title for this painting came out in a moment just like that. I sang. I painted. And I was moved to tears, so now I am eagerly preparing the special message for the new owner.

At this time, it seems, the dragonfly is able to communicate something that is inside of me that needs to be expressed. And there is more on its way. More dragonflies, more paintings, more people…I nod my head in understanding something I cannot yet see.

Two years. That is how long most species of dragonfly spend in the “preparation stage” for life: a stage that ends in only a few short months of flying. But that ability to fly is full developed, expert, complete with the ability to catch their prey in mid-air with their feet. How do they do that? Well, nearly all of the dragonfly’s head is made up of eye…so their vision enables them to see every angle, except for behind them.

I want to live like that.

“Then God said, ‘Let the waters swarm with fish and other life. Let the skies be filled with birds of every kind.'” [Genesis 1:20]

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24×36″ Mixed medium on canvas
by Misty Bedwell

FUN THINGS OF NOTE:
>This blank canvas was generously donated by Tony Mayo…love it when artists believe in other artists. Please check out his website. Send me a message if you want in on the fun too 🙂

>This painting will be available at the After Dark Gala at The Abbotsford Reach on September 13, 2014 with 100% of the proceeds going to The Reach to further the community of art in Abbotsford.

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Glow bugs in my heart’s jar

I traveled to Redding, CA this summer in the middle of the moving chaos that was going on at home. The decision to go was extremely spontaneous, and I asked myself several times,”What are you thinking?!” But the flights were booked and there was no turning back.

The trip was weeks ago now, and looking back…I can see how it all began. My glow bugs. During that time away I carried my heart along, transparent like a mason jar…and then, there was a shift. Something changed inside. I found a glow bug. And then two, then three…

When I got home, we moved the next day and life became a flurry of unpacking and coordinating tradespeople, trips to Home Depot, packing and unpacking. Though I carried my little jar around with me, I had no time to crack the lid to process what had happened while I was away, and it seemed like it may have even been just a dream.

Now that the new place is unpacked, I have been staring at the treasures in my jar. As I write this today, I am unthreading the lid and setting them free.

Freedom. What does it look like? Is it a physical condition like looking out at the beauty from the top of a mountain? Or is there even more to it?

I was singing at the altar that day…My eyes were closed. I was conscious of only the Lord and me. That was when I saw the scene unfold before me.

Everything was sepia…like it had been tea-dyed. Beautiful, uneven, messy, artistic. I saw a piece of paper with words on it. I tried to read it, but before I could, a pair of hands reached down and began to fold the paper; and the words began to be pressed deeply into the middle until I could no longer see them. More folding ensued. Then, I saw that the paper had been folded into an airplane.

Hard to describe how I know this because I saw and felt nothing. I just knew. But there was a breath…and the paper airplane caught the flow and took off. No sooner had it begun then the wings of the airplane turned into the wings of a bird.

The bird flew briefly and landed on a brown bush. I mean EVERYTHING was still sepia colored. The bush also had no leaves. Instead it was made up of quilted pieces of material all grafted together. Perched on the tip of a branch, the bird began to sing…

I was mesmerized. Instead of a sound, tune, or whistle…little words began to flow out of the birds’ mouth on tiny pieces of paper. And each time the bird opened its mouth to sing, a new word came out.

They appeared almost as if they were alive, and they began to float towards a low-lying cloud that hovered like fog in a valley. When the words reached the cloud, they began to dangle like crystals from a chandelier. It was so beautiful to watch, I wish I could have grabbed a coffee and sat down and just adored the whole scene. But there was more.

Another breath came. Again, not sure how I knew. They all just simultaneously dropped… this time heavy like rain; and when they landed on the dirt, everything turned to full color!! The brown, what first seemed so cozy and artistic now paled in comparison as gardens began to team with the most vivid life I had ever seen.

Woah.

God, what are You up to now?

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