When my daughter was expecting her first child, her midwives gave her a booklet with drawings of effective positions for labor and delivery. Each drawing showed not only the laboring woman, but the helpers attending her.  We were just entering advent, and I was inspired to think about the story of Mary giving birth in the stable.  As you can see in the painting(s), my vision of Mary’s labor and delivery and the response from the surrounding community is a bit different from the biblical text.

(Center Image) The Midwives Came  36"H x 48"W acrylic on canvas 

The midwives came: There is no mention of this in any biblical text I’ve ever read, but...ha, I know that if a woman named Mary journeyed with her betrothed to Bethlehem to gather with their clan, her condition would be noticed.

As is in the nature of tribal communities, help for kin and strangers is generously offered. Word of her need would pass through streets and encampments. Midwives would come and attend Mary in her fulfillment of her sacred contract. 

Women as first witness to this holy birthing would know the specialness of this night. They ensured His safe passage into our world in fulfillment of the prophecies.

(Left Image) The Community Came 36"H x 24"W acrylic on canvas

The community came bringing swaddling cloth, packing wool, sheep's milk, bread, meal, herbs and all manner of items necessary to meet a new mother's needs.

(Right Image) Joseph Stands Guard  36"H x 24"W acrylic on canvas

Joseph stands guard, bearing witness to the prophesied miracle of birth.  Joseph: his work and his life ground Jesus to the earth.

Framable Glycee prints are available for purchase in triptych form.  Sizes range from 4"H x 10'W  to  16"H x 40"W.  Contact Carolyn at [email protected] for complete list of sizes and ordering information. 

Video recoding of Carolyn Faivre's 7/16/ 2022 artist talk: https://youtu.beo9farbggtf0/

Have you ever had an experience where you left feeling affirmed beyond measure? Where you had a deep reassurance that you were exactly where you were supposed to be in your life? Where you could let go of long-standing gnawing doubt about your place in the world?

On July 16, 2022, St. Mark’s Glen Ellyn hosted a heart-felt reception for my artwork, and invited me to speak about my art, and in doing so, gifted me all three.  I'm  not on cloud 9. Rather, I have never felt so grounded in my decision to give my time over to creating this  Spirit-directed art.   This means that my part is NOT sitting back on my laurels because of a successful exhibit.  I do recognize I’m being asked to show up daily at my easels, to step out of the shadows and say ‘yes’ again and again when I’m offered chances to share my work out in the world, and to learn skills I’ve been afraid to tackle in the past. 

So, paying blessings forward:  This week, White House Custom Color, the skillful, precise, printing company I use is having their semi-annual fine-arts and offering 20% off giclee prints.  I’m happy to pass this savings on to you.  Check out my Portfolios and if there is a print you’d like, contact me directly at [email protected] to receive the discount and place an order.

Thanks for reading;

Carolyn

In making art
I connect to spirit; mine and Creator’s.
I connect to soul; mine and the work coming forward.

In making art
Mystery is revealed
in brush stroke, pencil stroke, eraser stroke.

In making art
the paper bleeds
with colors of memories, longings, promises.

In making art
Lost dreams revealed in the negative spaces,
Birth a painting of their own stories.

Artmaking is a patient, persistent practice.
Except when it isn’t
And bursts forth with uncontrolled urgency.

Spirit explodes on the canvas,
Out of my heart,
Into the world.

Originally published September 11, 2020.

The Gift of Letting Go

Artist Donna Lee Johnston died in February 2017.  Her illness took her eyesight so that she could no longer paint, and eventually her life.  Longing to honor Donna and her talent, her sister Margi Hafer, gathered more than 150 unfinished pieces and asked fellow artists to complete them.  I was blessed to complete two of Donna’s painting starts.*

This painting of Donna’s immediately took me back to the memory of a painting I did as a senior in high school. I had been selected as a gifted artist to participate in a countywide program through the university art department to support outstanding artists, and one of our seminars was on watercolor painting. Besides the Crayola paint boxes of my childhood, I had never used watercolor paints. Our assignment: paint a landscape scene. I had it in my mind to paint the old tool shed on our farm.

While painting, it became obvious I did not have the perspective of the shed accurate, and I was trying to fix it with more paint. The professor came over and told me to start over with a new painting.  I just kept working on the one I had. As the professor looked at my finished piece he said to me, “You have talent, but you will never make it as an artist, you are too lazy.”  His words have been indelible ink stamped on my longing to paint that would not be removed. When I saw Donna’s unfinished painting of the cottage, I immediately thought of my shed painting. I wanted to look away, but this image compelled me to take her home.

I fixed Donna’s painting on my wall, looking at it every day while I waited for the inspiration, for direction. I kept seeing the unfinished cottage going up in flames. It seemed disrespectful, but the flame image held firm. What was revealed to me was the house being consumed by flame as the transformation needed to bring the land, and back to life, flowers and blossoming trees bursting forth from the brown earth and bare branches. The silver smoke and glitter show the alchemical nature of this transformation.

Two larger-than-life hummingbirds come forth from the chimney, symbols of a renewed life, of creativity, intuition, and energy.  That there are a pair reminds me that creative work is a joint effort of the artist and the medium. Both are needed, equal and essential.

I added a pathway leading up to the house; the markers and stumbling stones I encountered during my longed-for transformation.

An oversized rabbit (‘oversized’ is normal in magical paintings) rests at the base of a tree. I learned from Donna’s sister that Donna read the book, The Velveteen Rabbit, to her children and grandchildren, and that when she was dying, her daughter would read it to her. Remembering that story and having The Velveteen Rabbit show up in the painting seemed fitting—for he was transfigured by letting go of his old form and holding close his great longing, as have I.

* for more information go to  https://www.margihafer.com/thesistersproject