The photo in the piece of art above was taken of me at age nineteen, during my junior year in college. I had a boyfriend at the time who was into photography, especially black and white, and I still have several of the photos he took of me. I think I find them striking because at the time I was struggling with my self-image and yet I remember feeling beautiful while those photos were being taken.
For this creation I began with a piece of canvas paper and had painted it with some blue and silver acrylic similarly to yesterday’s stamp carvings. Then I scanned this photo and printed it on a transparency. I painted the edges (this is the only part I don’t quite like) and then after that dried I used a couple of the stamps I have been creating to make a frame around the image.
In InterPlay there is a form called “I could talk about. . .” and you go back and forth with a partner listing all the things you could talk about and tell a story, however simple. As I was contemplating this image, I was reminded of that exercise and what came to mind was “Entering into this image I could write about. . .” as a way of opening up the layers captured in a moment in time.
I could write about. . .
- having just returned from Paris for a semester where I felt incredibly lonely, despite having had a great experience in many ways.
- living with a roommate who I think had borderline personality disorder but I didn’t have a name for it at the time.
- coming back from Paris and discovering that my boyfriend had fallen for another young woman despite his frequent letters while I was away assuring me he was waiting.
- being nineteen and filled with doubt about myself.
- believing at the time that most men were completely self-serving like my father.
As you can see, an image can open up many possibilities for stories and I have revealed an awful lot about my angst-filled late adolescence without saying much at all. It was a painful time in my life for a number of reasons, but there’s something moving to me about this young woman who let herself just breathe in beauty for a moment. I plan to work with more of these images along the way, as they stirred up a lot of possibilities for reflection. I think there is enormous potential for sacred work here and entering back into my story with tremendous compassion for who I was and for my ancestors.
-Christine Valters Paintner @ Abbey of the Arts
11 Responses
Hi Christine,
So interesting to hear your story about this picture. Of course, in just gazing at it for a few moments I had already made up a story. That’s what art is for, yes? Any way, all I can see in this picture is dancing and flow. Everything about it suggests that to me. The way your head is turned away makes me think that you are graceful and entering into a swirling motion which is also echoed in the stamping and even the brush marks of the paint around the border that you don’t like. Thanks for sharing your beauty in all of its forms.
: )
Love,
Beck
Thanks everyone for the kind and tender words. It has been a great gift to dig into my personal and ancestral history, I am learning quite a bit about myself on this journey!
lucy, thanks for honoring the sacredness of this story, it is indeed a holy thing to go to these vulnerable places and encounter myself and my Self.
Suz, I actually don’t consider this particular relationship a tragedy, while I was heartbroken at the time I don’t think this particular man deserves that kind of weight. My father however was most certainly a tragic figure in my life. I am so delighted you are gathering your tools and creating your art space! I love it!!
Sunrise Sister, I agree with you. The InterPlay tools are more about playfully opening up possibilities for story, but they speak to a deeper wisdom that there iare always more layers to reveal.
eileen, sounds like we have had some similar journeys, I was fotunate not to have entered into drug or alcoholo addiction — quite a feat considering my father’s alcoholism, but I acted out addictive patterns in other ways. How beautiful that your journey leads you to love your daughter that much more.
“Hey, 19!”
Wow, reading your post transported me back to that time period in my own life, Christine. Some similarities in our stories. At that age and stage, I was dating a man 11 years older than me (the Dad void), was actively romancing my addiction to cocaine, was achieving excellent grades in college, and wore the mask (and clothes) of having it all together (when in fact I was broken – in many ways).
Your personal quest to dig deeper is awesome. In my own journey, I have gone back and held that despaired and highly fearful 19 year girl in my arms. And in the now, I hold my sixteen year old daughter in that way … so she will know that I will love her and be here for her NO MATTER. I am trying to give to her what I never had – it’s all God.
Thanks for this post, Christine. I am grateful to have connected with you over the past several months!
Thank you, Bette! What a kind response!
Christine, The interplay concept intrigues me. I find it possible to speak to almost anyone using thoughts of interplay (I think) because when one “speaks” there is ALWAYS a response we can give – either to give another comfort or to give continuance to (at least) the conversation or to (at most) the relationship. Generally, the only reason for non-response is the point blank recognition/statement that we do not want to go/or unwilling to go farther in the relationship or we are unwilling to lend an ear (at the least) to someone who needs listening.
SUZ….. I have returned to my art studio in the basement again to be productive and to hide away in my ‘cave’ of sorts. The beautiful darkness of this season has caused me to realize that I am not being productive upstairs. I’ve taken my new drums, books, AND even my laptop to the basement and now I see that I should have done it months ago. Good luck with your new art supplies and inspiration. May you CREATE WONDERS in your basement-Haven!
Christine,
This fills me with sadness. What a stunning young woman…and what a bright, caring loving adult you have become. It is such a tragedy that you were taken in by this man. I think you heard me mention that the same thing has just happened to my daughter so the agony of thinking someone was waiting for you is so fresh in my mind.
I was in much the same place at nineteen. Self-serving father and struggling deeply with my own sense of self worth. How lucky we were to end up with loving husbands and lives that mattered…correcting myself here…how filled with Grace our lives have been.
Now on a more shallow level…these are the materials I read about…the transparencies, the pearl paints, the linolium blocks (I used to loved to do these in high school. I must say, I almost DREAM of them. I am getting my own little supply together. I have acrylics and brushes now, and Twinkling H2)’s and next I want to get the tissues and blocks and pearl paints. Somewhere I have the carving tools! I am going to turnt he basement into my little haven.
You have been so inspirational!
Christine, you are a very beautiful woman, inside and out. Thank you for being here for me and for us all. I love your deeply profound art and stories you have presented here. I will try asking myself these questions for things I have issues with in my present life.
i could not help but feel the sacredness of the work done here. it is so vulnerable and tender. for a few moments i felt as if i became that angst-filled girl not only with her sadness but also with the beauty and strength she resonates. to have traveled and lived in paris by that young age? this post shows us the foot prints of the woman she was already becoming.
i am struck by your desire and especially your willingness to dive into this deep work. thank you for sharing this holy experience.
(the “i could talk about…is really a powerful tool!)