On that last Sunday of painting, my husband Tommy and Theresa went to mass. When they returned Theresa said she was "jonesing" for a Mexican omelet with salsa and black bean - which she cooked for herself. I sat at the table and talked with her while she ate her brunch. My son Conner and several mischievous little boys who lived in the neighborhood were being a little bit too rowdy, so Theresa who teaches this age group in a school gifted arts program, took matters into your own hands and shuffled them outside.
Conner said they were going down to Hudson's House but he didn't think they'd last long there, either, cause "according to him "they got a Grandmother down there"! Theresa and I got tickled about him saying that. After all, everybody knows a grandmother isn't going to put up with rowdy boys either. Cheers to the crones of this world.
After Theresa finished her breakfast she packed up all of the items she had left here during her off and on extended stay at my house while she was in the painting process. She was finished with the labyrinth and it was time to head home. We loaded up her car and then headed for the studio to move out.
Before we left I called Maida to come meet us there to take photographs of the labyrinth, and help us move out of the studio. I wanted Daria to join us but she was finishing her last week-end of chaplain training and couldn't come. We had all been together to mark the first week-end of painting, and I wished that she could be there to gather with us for our final time in the studio.
When I arrived at the studio I got my first look at the completed labyrinth. It had gone through three metamorphosis since its beginnings. The original plans were to superimpose the labyrinth design over a painted seascape. Then, when Theresa arrived at the studio to paint the first week-end she sketched the labyrinth over a waterscape with lily pads cascading throughout. She had even spent a session chalking the lily pads onto the labyrinth. During this phase the labyrinth became "The lily pad labyrinth." Imagery of frogs and their symbolism of fertility were predominant. Daria and I both kept seeing frog images everywhere. That's kind of how it goes.
However, after Theresa actually started painting, she intuitively began to paint over the lily pads. At one point she thought they would reappear after the background got painted. We had transfered the lily pad sketches onto the templates, so it would have been possible for her to recreate the exact sketch of the original design. However, as time got short she realized the lily pads weren't going to get on the labyrinth...and we were both unclear if they even should.
The gravity of the creative process had taken over and what seemed to want to emerge was not the lily pad labyrinth. Plus, while walking the lily pad version in its chalk sketch phase, I noticed I felt exuberant and playful, not contemplative. I worried that once they were painted on they could be distractive. When I tell you they were cascading throughout the labyrinth, I really mean there were a zillion of 'em. I could envision the beauty of that imagery, but still worried that the motif would be busy and high energy.
Even as late as the night before Theresa's final painting session, she thought she might get some lily pads at the entrance of the labyrinth. However, when I saw the completed labyrinth the first thing I noticed is that she had placed the Vescia Piscia symbol at the entrance. I was surprised and very pleased to have this magnificent symbol integrated into the labyrinth and especially at the entrance. The Vescia Piscia at the entrance of the Quinto Sol labyrinth is a
symbol that has interested me for some time. I am especially fond of the symbol as a motif at
the Chalice Well in Glastonbury, England.
I must say that it was awesome to watch Theresa give herself over, to yield herself totally, to the creative process. In the past I have been very critical of my pattern of getting in the middle of something and changing my mind, even when I've sensed that the shift in direction is coming from the wild call of intuition.
These internal voices are parental and cultural voices. In my parents world you make up your mind and stick to it. You don't start something and change courses. To put energy and investment in something then wildly abandon it in favor of something else is considered irresponsible.
However, as I begin to give my own self permission to surrender to the creative unknown, I am also learning that nothing is ever wasted or lost in the creative process. The ideas, motifs, dreams, and plans that come up always have a way of re-emerging at a later time. In the past I've also framed up my tendencies to shift directions as negative. These were mistakes, and its not okay to make mistakes. Now I am understanding that my tendencies are natural to the creative process. (And Theresa did eventually recreate the lily pad labyrinth - the lily pads were a painted into a clay finger labyrinth) .
I must say that bearing witness to Theresa's creativity was incredibly validating to my own. She was totally comfortable with shifting directions, with trying something out and then abandoning it in favor of a better direction. She is totally comfortable in her skin as an artist and as creative person.