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This week I spent a lot of time in the studio working on a painting that I had called “Complete Honesty” as a working title. The title came from the book I was reading, The Four Agreements by don Miguel Ruiz. The four agreements are: 1. Be impeccable with your word. 2. Don’t take anything personally. 3. Don’t make assumptions. 4. Always do you best. The theory is, if you can live your life according to these four agreements which you make with yourself, you will be able to break out of the false agreements which most of us live under.

So I started out the painting with the idea that I was going to be completely honest while painting. Sounds simple enough. But what did I mean by “honest?” I had to think about that for awhile, and decided that by honest I meant that I would look at the painting with non-judgmental eyes. My tendency is to either be too critical, thinking everything sucks, or to be too lenient, thinking everything is great. So my challenge to myself was to neither become too attached to elements nor too detached. I had to allow myself to paint freely, then step back and see with fresh eyes what was working, what wasn’t. I had to suspend the judgments based on my insecurities and my need for control. I had to trust that the painting would reveal its purpose and to add or eliminate based on that purpose.

So this is where I started. A gesture drawing of two horses with the words “complete” and “honesty” written in their manes. At this point I had no idea of the purpose of the painting, other than that these two horses appeared as I was making marks on the canvas.

I almost felt the painting was complete at this point, and maybe it was. But the idea of dawning was in my head, and I decided to go with that thought and painted in a sunlit sky and red grasses in the foreground. As I was painting, trees began to emerge, and I got caught up in painting the trees and the way intense sunlight bounces off the branches. As I continued painting, these trees became very important, until I stepped back and noticed a conflict between the trees and the horses. I had given both equal importance.

So back to complete honesty. What was this painting about? The horses or the trees? It could go either way. The trees made a strong case for their importance. So I became still and opened my heart and mind and allowed the painting to reveal itself to me. I let go of the trees and the horses and the words. I stopped concentrating on the elements and looked at the whole. I let go of my fear of making a mistake, of ruining what I had created thus far. Even though it wasn’t working, I felt attached to it. I let go of my attachment.

When I felt completely neutral, I stepped back to the easel, picked up a large brush and started painting from my heart. Painting quickly, I softened the trees and abstracted the background. I painted over the words. I paused…and then I knew the painting and what it is about. The Return of the Warriors. 

In his book, don Miguel speaks of the spiritual warrior. He says the warrior differs from the soldier in that the soldier is trained to follow orders. The warrior must learn to listen to no one but the higher power of his or her self. If I live by the four agreements, then I can totally trust myself.

To me, the horse is the perfect metaphor for the spiritual warrior. The horse symbolizes freedom. Horse medicine is also associated with courage and independence, taking risks and finding your own personal power. Other lessons and powers associated with the horse totem include: adventure, the importance of self-care, joy, perseverance, friendship, creativity and expression.

“Return of the Warriors” is almost complete. I haven’t signed it yet – I’m waiting to see if I need to add or subtract anything to make it a better painting. But I am happy with the intent of the work, and filled with joy that my totem horse has returned.

This morning nature has gifted us with sunlight filtering through a light mist. Each blade of grass in the pasture turns to face the warmth, while drops of dew sparkle and dance. This is a time I feel at peace, when I have the time – when I make the time – to observe the subtle beauty in nature. And not just to notice, but to breathe it in, the cool crisp air scented with the faint smell of plant decomposition.

According to Wikipedia, “decomposition refers to the process by which tissues of a dead organism break down into simpler forms of matter. Such a breakdown of dead organisms is essential for new growth and development of living organisms because it recycles the finite matter that occupies physical space in the biome.”

As humans, we also go through periods of decomposition. Not just of our physical bodies when we die, but in our spiritual and emotional lives, as we shed old thoughts and habits in order to encourage – and feed – the growth of new. Many of us fear death, or decomposition, in any form. Because it means trading the known for the unknown. The known, even if we hate it, is a safe place. The unknown, even if we crave it, is scary.

In painting, decomposition is taking all the complex elements of a scene or a concept, and breaking down those elements to their simpler forms. A thousand hairs on the hide of a buffalo become a stroke of paint on the canvas. In my paintings, I try to convey a concept using as simple a composition as possible. In my painting process, I sometimes start out rather complex and then simplify as the painting progresses, as I become more aware of the essence of the painting. Sometimes I wipe out a whole hour or two of work if what I have painted adds to the clutter but not to the meaning of the painting. 

I am getting better at doing that – of “letting go” of what I have put on the canvas. My tendency as an emerging artist has been to put too much importance on this element or that within a painting, often at the sacrifice of the whole. As I become more aware, and continue on my journey to master the art of painting, I feel more confident in eliminating areas that aren’t adding to the strength of the painting. But in order to do that, I have to understand the painting.

What do I mean by that – understand the painting? For the artist, painting is a way to communicate a concept or an emotion. More than just crafting a “pretty picture,” the artist tries to share her passion; whether the artist uses landscapes, wildlife, horses, city scenes or swirls of abstract color to express that passion doesn’t matter. You hear a lot of artists say, “I paint light.” Okay, so what? Pressed further, the artist might say, “I’m excited by the way the early morning sunlight bounces off the leaves and grasses, making them glow.” Now we’re getting closer. Pressed even further, the artist might say “When I see the early morning sunlight bouncing off the leaves and grasses, it fills me with an unspeakable joy, a feeling of connectedness to nature, a sense of well-being and happiness.” Okay, that is what the artist is communicating.

So when painting this scene of early morning sunlight bouncing off the leaves and grasses, the artist must keep the focus of what she is truly communicating in her mind, and make all painting decisions based on, does this support or does this detract from the true essence of this painting. The painting works when a viewer can look at it and say, “This painting fills me with joy and a feeling of connectedness to nature, a sense of well-being and happiness.” 

A little about the painting pictured above. It's working title is "Complete Honesty." This is how it looks after I played around with it in Photoshop (a tool I sometimes use when deciding what should go and what should stay.) The way it looks on my easel is at the top of the blog.