March 3rd, 2018
People ask me about "War" all the time. "Is she you?" they ask. No she wasn't me when I painted her 20 years ago. I used a photograph of myself as a reference to help paint her to look more realistic, but I didn't try to make her look like my image. The amazing thing was I had my son take photographs of me, so I could see the details of her, especially the expression in the eyes. Eyes are very important to an artist. During the photo sessions I thought of all the things that made me mad, because she was war and everything it represented. I wanted her expression to show anger and rage. That is what war meant to me back then. No matter how many pictures my son took when I thought I was expressing anger, the only thing which showed was pain in the eyes. "Oh well," I thought," just make her look angry when you paint her." Ha that is a laugh! This was a woman from the dark side, a place were bad things happen and no matter what I did, no matter how many times I painted over her eyes to try and get rage to show through, all I got was what you see in the painting, the way it is now. Pain. I guess my brush and paint were wiser than me back then. Pain is all that war is!
I had a good and wonderful life. More than 20 years ago before I painted "War" I broke through what I call, "The Concrete Door".
The Concrete Door is a metaphor explaining how difficult it is to go beyond our belief system. Well my good and wonderful life came crashing in on me and let me tell you that is when you see what it is you truly believe in. An example- I had always thought I was open minded about psychics. It was fascinating to think there was more out there than what meets the eye. I believed in them. I think there are scammers as there always will be those who take a nasty path. Overall people are good, but can you be good when your loved ones are: dying, your children are in pain and going through intense physical and emotional turmoil, you get a gift you believe is from God and you have people belittle or question it as bad, your finances dwindle and you have to have faith whether your next payment will come in in time, and everyone around you wants help. You try and help as many as you can, but inside you know you need help, but it is painful to deny them your help. You see the world differently through suffering. It can take you to a very dark place if you let it. I let it for a while. Too long really. I believed other people's words and sorrow. The worst and most painful through all of this was the jolts in my faith. Not "my" faith! The faith others had in my faith. Confusing. Well it was. For the first time in my life I was judged, put on a stand and left there for all to say what they wanted about me, whether I was good, whether I had turned and gone to do the devil's work. Let me tell you something profound I learned about being judged in the darkness of other people's mind's. It is crucifying. It can take you so far down into a place like a vacuum sucking away the very essence of who you are. The power to stand in Hell and continue to face Heaven when everyone around you is saying it doesn't exists is beyond the comprehension of what our belief system can endure without God. Higher-Self, Atma, more than with-in, universal consciousness, Mother Earth, Chief, Almighty. and whatever name you put to your highest being of belief in whatever country, nation, island, planet you are on. It is all the same. War shows only pain in her eyes, because to be angry is a disguise and covers up the real emotion behind it, which is pain. War made it through the concrete door. Her sacrifices were not all by choice, but she made it and if she can so can all of you. I ask you to look inside and see if you feel worthy of a journey through darkness just to understand and help others in this world get out of their dungeons of inner turmoil only to discover they won't come out no matter what you do or say. Their concrete door is shut and sealed as was mine. How did I get out then? It is a mystery only another blog can reveal. SincereHarmony Always and Forever, Sheri Jo