Artists vs Craft Tent

The night before the She and He Artists were to leave for their first big trip, they realized that they hadn’t checked their new craft tent. Did it have all the walls, accessories, poles? Was it hard to put together? What did it even look like? Was it in perfect condition or were there any rips, tares, or broken pieces? They knew they had pushed this task almost too far off their radar and had waited to the very last possible moment to find out if there were any issues. They had to stop and take the time to learn their craft tent before it was too late.

They started by pulling out all of the parts that had been placed in its large box by the manufacture around thirty minutes prior to dusk. To their relief it seemed like all the parts were there. But shortly into the process they realized the words, ‘one or two can put up the tent’, was either a misprint or they were defective at pitching a tent. They read the instructions and pulled, pushed, lifted; read the instructions again and repeat the process several times, past the last filtered light of the sun into the night’s darkness.

They were nervous, trying not to point their dismay at each other. They pushed on into the night for fear that they would look like the novices that they were in front of all the other artists during set up at the art show. They put the top on, pulled the legs, lifted the middle that was like an umbrella, while the She Artist’s arms shook, her hands sweat, and frustrations were near a spill over point. She strained to hold it up as the He Artist ran around to each pole clicking it into place. By the third pole She was barking the words, “HURRY!” At the final pole He slipped and She lost her grip, both physically and emotionally. After they caught their breath, with all the grit two fit humans could muster, they got to hear the click of the final pole snapping into place. They were so relieved. The next task was to put the four filmy nylon walls in place as the wind started to pickup and lightning in the distance threatened and gave light.

After over two hours the craft tent was in some assembly that looked closed to what a craft tent should look like. They undid the tent with mental notes and comments about this or that they hoped would help the next time they had to tackle the tent. Their egos feared what it would look like in front of others as they put up the tent. What were the lessons they had learned? Would they be able to remember what worked over what didn’t work when the time came? The tent had their attention, respect, and trepidation on its side. The tent was a fierce competitor and they both dreaded the next battle. They knew they had to be ready to meet the challenge… and win.

The day came and the tent was carried to its station. The anxiety between the She and He Artists as the time drew close for them to once again fight with the tent oozed from their bodies in the warm Mississippi air. Their ten by ten tent was once again at center ring. They could not go further in the set up process until the tent was up, the top was in place, and the walls were secure. They pulled the tent and its weapons of choice out of its carry all bag. They stood it up, pulled it apart from corner to opposite corner. It towered over them. They put the top on and pulled it into position, as they had during the previous exchange.

They looked pathetic, novice extraordinaires, to the casual on-lookers, as well as to the sage art festival competitors. A local artist viewed the novices and took compassion upon them. He remembered what his first show looked like, and he knew it hadn’t been pretty. He was viewing that time once again through the two fighting artists who looked like they were in an ugly battle with their tent. He decided that through all the times he had been helped in the beginning of his craft career; it was time for him to be passed the torch… from being helped to being helpful.

He slowly walked over to the She and He Artist, so not to startle them. In the frustrations and embarrassments She noticed him first. She visually implored him with her eyes to help in their struggles. He kept looking at the situation. She then audibly asked him to consider helping them. He gave her a look that frightened her. Would he just turn and walk away, leaving them in the craft tent, pole flaring hell? Or would he come to their rescue? He looked up and down at the issue. He walked to the middle of the tent. Both the She Artist and He Artist stared at him with hopeful eyes and astonishment. He took the middle bar with both of his hands and he shook the tent with quick thrusts into submission. Its poles flared outward; and the top was sent upward. After a few masterful shakes he demanded the He Artist to go to each of the side poles and click them into place. The He Artist was shocked and astonished. But he did as ordered. Within two minutes the tent was in place. They both thanked the Sage Artist for his kindness and wisdom with so much glee and gratitude. They shook his hand and thanked him again before he strolled off, back to his own booth as a hero should.

Pictures of Spring...visual aspects of Renewal

As the rains came and the buds appeared on the branches of the local trees, the couple rejoiced that they too had come through a winter of harshness. Their relationship had grown through the sun of forgiveness and forbearance and their joy came from a beautiful bouquet of learning lessons.

 The She Artist had pictures that were proofs of inspiration. She had had a deep desire to capture the sunsets of that winter in its passing glory. The He Artist’s work had been accepted by an art show jury, their first for the year. They had much to do and a lot to be grateful for as the early spring showed its Divine design. Their work became not only forms of beauty caught by their cameras. But the photos were placed behind unique mat board and lovely frames to become full blown pieces of finished artwork. Day by day they worked steadily and carefully on each piece until the deadline came. When it was time for them to leave, they packed their gorgeous finished product, a craft tent, two chairs, several grid wall display stands, as well as almost all of their personal possessions into their truck and the 17’ trailer. They were on the road towards Pass Christian, Mississippi. They didn’t know that this trip was leading them from the comfort of solid stationariness into the liquidity of a life without mortal life jackets, into the Divine waters of a more spiritual life.

Several weeks prior, they had been led to make reservations at a lovely RV park just a few miles from the sugar white sandy beaches between Biloxi and New Orleans. The Gulf of Mexico brought the hugeness of their endeavors into perspective. As the powerful waters rushed the shores, they could see that their work wasn’t just about two artists’ and their personal desires. But a Divine direction, a purposeful Soulful expression of two witnesses who captured moments of God’s beauty, grace, and presence; and brought it into tangible form for the spectator and customer alike.

They had so much to learn about the ‘why’, ‘Who’, ‘when’, ‘where’, and ‘what’ of their work. They didn’t realize their endeavors were not personal, but under the Hand of the Divine. They didn’t understand that the work was bigger than their personal perceptions. They didn’t see the Big Picture, the reason, the Help, the Direction which consistently was ever-present in their day to day activity as they should have. It might have helped serve them better than their dread and fears concerning the future. Had they taken in the vastness of the ocean’s power as a symbol of God’s power and control over their lives, perhaps it would have helped them gain a deeper sense of trust and peace.

The trip had been set for only six days. But through necessity it was extended to almost two weeks. The extra time gave them moments of clarity and inspiration which they needed for future courage. It was a springboard view of the possibilities and opportunities of their life on the road with Him, God, a bird’s eye view of what their new life would include. The beauty and grandeur of the place, the freshness of the full blown spring, the time they had been given in this paradise fed them as artists and their budding friendship.

When they came back to their stationary RV home they were not the same people. The struggle between the known and the unknown, between the comfort zones of a stagnating RV park and the refreshing daily renewal through His direction on the road, had changed the artists from the ordinary to the extraordinary. It guided them into the realization they were to move into a 17’ RV and go on the road. Permanent seekers and followers, witnesses to the Grand Director of Life on the road.

Photographers in their Right Place

A new chapter for the photographers led them to hit the road both literally and figuratively. It took their artistic and marital life through metaphorical twists and turns. Some days seemed as daunting as a rutty dirt road with lots of S curves, other times it was as promising as a smooth new four lane highway.

A thrill of peace, a sense of gratitude and glory would go through their moments day by day all the while not knowing where it would lead them, what they would find, and how their lives would be maintained. At other times sheer fear would grip them; as terror when one sees the edge of the rails meeting the sky in a roller coaster ride. Each step of the way they had to find the right answer. Step by step they had to learn the unnatural qualities of trust, patience, and perseverance. Two egos were learning how to see in the dark until The Light upon the path would shine just enough to move them slightly forward. 

Unlikely doors would open, messages would be heard as they prayed, words from this passage or that billboard or marquee would help guide them at just the right moment, all the coincidences would push them forward. They learned a new way to listen; a new way to view life, outside what seemed necessary or normal. 

Their first steps were from the stability of a full time job and home to a transition of retirement from a past career into an RV during the bitter months of winter and into their new lives as artists. They had to learn how to keep warm, let go of possessions, and work with each other around a tight space. It was a frosty obstacle ridden time for two people to learn the balances of time, space, relationship. Their desire and love helped melt away the lack of understanding, fear, and personal view points. They turned to the Higher Power for help to work through the daily challenges.

They found that the biggest challenges were self-conceived notions, fears, beliefs, plots and plans, and for those obstacles of personal sense to be fought over and dissolved. Each day they had to learn how to trust each other, trust The Word, and trust the progress and moves that brought them towards a higher Divine way and means. The winter was long and cold but they made it to spring and into bigger moves and longer miles away from their comfort zones.

They would see that comfort was not based on a brick and mortar foundation with a permanent address or a structured schedule. But it was based upon a peace that comes from an all absorbing love, a love for God's Ways, a love to be childlike and obedient. Comfort came through demonstrating what they were learning and understanding about themselves as Children of the All-knowing God.

Two Photographers and a 17' Trailer

Once upon a time a business woman of normal standing in her community knew she was a fake. You see, she didn't like normal. Her heart and thoughts didn't fit in with the normal people of her community. Behind the mask of normal she wore for those around her, she yearned for the abnormal, the freedom to be herself. The desire to break out of the boxes all the normal people tried to put her. Through their view points, opinions, and their own discomforts of the abnormalities of those unlike themselves, she became very dark and sad.

She was a depressed soul with a smile on her face. She hid behind this false facade as long as she could, years in fact went by. The fakeness and normal people wore her down. Only her hopes and dreams of a life, where she could be herself...artistic, different, with a life filled with new adventures and wonderful places to see, buoyed her through the rough patches called, 'being responsible'. At times she would lose herself in the mundane routines of normal people. She would wonder if she would ever get to be an expression of her true self-hood...OR, if she would forever live a life of fakery.

She had no ill-will towards the normal people. They were happily going along in the normalness of their ways. But she could tell they didn't like abnormal people. They would make remarks, pressure those around them to be like themselves...or else. So for their sake and hers she hid her true desire to be who she was...wonderfully, completely, wholeheartedly abnormal.

*******

He was a runner, a freedom fighter. All his life he lived by the beat of his own ways. Even as a child he bucked the system, made his own rules, even if it meant paying a penalty. He broke free from the boxes that the government, community, and even the school boards tried to impose upon him. His days were of his own making. His lesson plans were of his own creating. He learned through his own system. He made his own breach and filled in the gaps with his own curriculum.

Year after year this free spirit made his life choices against the tides of what the normal communities would find acceptable. He lived his life unapologetic and outside the boxes normal people check. He made his life under his own terms and no one else's.

He was an artist, an archer, and a productive member of society without government assistance nor community involvement. He crossed the country from West to East and from South to North for many years until it was almost time for him to find the woman who needed help breaking the chains and barriers of normal-hood and to help set her free.

*******

They had three things in common: first, the desire to be free; second, the love of photography; and third, a love for God and courage which was brought to them through prayer.

They met in an unlikely way...but for two abnormal people, wouldn't that be normal? Their love and friendship grew through growing pains. They both fought hard for their individual independence and yet they fought as rigorously to stay together. Their bond was being built like and made as beautiful as a Kintsugi bowl.

Step by step this unlikely pair moves closer together and becomes one unit of artistry. They both took photographs that won them places in the hearts of Art Show Juries. She puts together each photo with its perfect pieces of mat board and its unique frame. He completes the task of turning them into a finished product. They are both proud of, and deeply grateful to be a part of this beautiful whole collection of lovely artwork.

Through prayer and guided steps, they will take to the road to go from art show to art show. They are two artists, two 'road prayer warriors', two souls united as one by marriage and artistic commitment, living in a 17' Springdale Mini, and loving their abnormal life.

This blog is to bring the abnormal and the normal readers alike together as one, to celebrate this couple's accomplishments, mourn their hardships, and pray with them every roll of the wheel across this land we call the United States of America.

In the future there may be opportunities to purchase pieces of artwork, maybe a book or two, but for the most part this is a journal, a log of epic RV proportions, a place to commemorate the adventures of two abnormal artists and their journey together.

Thank You Letter to GOD, Love

Sometimes journeys become private, introspective, long, filled with growth in personal forgiveness, lessons, curve balls, questions (answered and unanswered). That is what happened to me and this blog.


I loved writing the past blogs and yet when life threw me the largest learning lesson I withdrew, hid, got lost, and finally made my way back into the land of the living, and yes back to this blog; and back to the love and joy in what we call 'life' here on this plain of thought.


At this point I am not sure if I have actually anything to write. I guess a large "Thank, You" letter to God is long over due. A letter of gratitude, appreciation, and praise...to the One Holy praiseworthy entity we call God.


There is no better way than to just jump in and write the words of gratitude that flows from thought to keypad. So here it is...a simple text of a vast amount of thankfulness after so many years and months of lessons learned through tears and triumphs:


"Thank You, God, Life, Truth, and Love for Your patience, mercy, ever-presence as Light in the darkness. Thank You, God, Life, for revealing Life as a joy, even during the claims of loss and sorrow, even during the struggles, even during the darkest moments a human may endure. Thank You, God, Truth, for revealing the Christ activity always buoying us up above the waves that try to drown us...Thank You for revealing that lies have no power to take, change, or forever hide the Truth of our Being as one with You. Thank You, God, for Your ever-present Principle, Love, shown as a divine Law of Your constant care, Your gentle tenderness, Your constancy and resurrective power."


"Thank You for always bringing us THROUGH...through the screams and terrors of error...through the murkiness of doubt and chaos...through to the other side, as You have always promised to Your beloved children and have done throughout the ages. Thank You for not leaving me where You "found me" but gently pushed, prodded, pulled, lifted, animated me out of the false claims of separation to the clearer views, 'there is no separation', no break from harmony, no stop nor start but a constant flow of the calm currents of Your Being, expressed through Your reflection, Man, which includes me and all."


"As in Deuteronomy chapter 31, verse 8 states, "the Lord, he it is that doth go before thee; he will be with thee, he will not fail thee, neither forsake thee: fear not, neither be dismayed." You revealed to me that no matter what the claims of this life may appear to be, I need not be 'dismayed'. You never forsook me, never failed me, never left me alone in the wilderness of pain and sorrow...and I thank You.'


"May I always rejoice in Your presence, trust in Your care, feel Your guiding Hand, and stay within Your lit path, "all the way up to thee".


Your little one,


Karen