Resurrection of a Lost World

When I was a little girl, I just loved to draw. I lived and breathed paper and pencils. When we went to church, and my Mom wanted me to keep still, she would let me sit on the floor, she would take out a little pad of paper (which smelled like fresh tissues, strangely enough), give me her ballpoint pen, and that was all I needed. I would go into my own little world, which existed entirely on that page, and was a world of ballpoint ink, a quiet world of my own making.


During the course of high school, I gradually lost my love for art, as it soon became a massive burden for me. Long story short, our art classes had me churning out sketches and projects like a machine, and I came to resent my talent. It has been approximately ten years since I seriously took pencil to paper and enjoyed it.


My doctor has now advised me that I need to take half an hour every day, to do something 'meditative', in order to truly relax. It doesn't necessarily need to be anything like levitating and going "ooohhhmmm", but the good doctor suggested yoga or art. Art? I instinctively recoiled at the idea. Sketching didn't sound relaxing to me, it sounded stressful, having to manufacture drawing after drawing...
How sad, that the education system stole this beautiful thing from me. How utterly infuriating.


So, I stole it back this week.


Sometime last year, I began this sketch in an attempt to resurrect my talents, but at the time, I still felt some turmoil about it all, and I gave it all up pretty quickly...

This week, I decided to try again, with a new agenda: Not to churn out an artwork, but to relax and enjoy some quiet time in my little world. Amazingly, it was a completely different experience. 


When I first started this sketch last year, I was just copying a magazine advertisement.I have subsequently lost the magazine, and so am pretty much just messing around with it. Could be disastrous, but only time will tell. The weird wavy sketching on the top of the page is actually a very flamboyant hat that was sitting on the head of a woman, whom you can just barely see in the middle of the page. I am so excited to get to drawing her, as she is one posh lady and I really enjoy a good portrait. 

So, it's really going great, and the cherry on top was that today I discovered some really ideal "sketching music". You know me: it's the music that makes my life so much more incredible to experience, and so I must share it. 


Today I plugged my iPod earphones in, and played the latest Florence and the Machine album, "Ceremonials". There is nothing that can really be compared to this band. The music is almost tribal, primitive, with an incredibly eery edge to it that I haven't heard since listening to Kate Bush's 'Waking the Witch'. (And you should hear that track in reverse, it is simply spine-chilling.) 


Florence and the Machine is a South London band. The lead singer, Florence Welch, possesses a most unique voice, reaching high notes with warbling tenderness, and in the next moment bellowing a powerful alto that brings goosebumps to my arms. I have to say that when listening to this album, I have the urge to dance around a fireplace, or dive into a ocean and swim until I'm surrounded by nothing but water and dolphins. Yeah, it's pretty strange music.


But exactly the kind of strange music that's perfect for immersing myself in my own world-on-paper. Some of my favourite songs....


Shake It Out
Strangeness and Charm
Never let me go


Hope you enjoy it - it's not everyone's cup of tea - but it's such fitting music, being the day-dreamy music that it is... I will share more, once this particular sketch is finished :) Hopefully it won't be a catastrophe!


Peace out!

This Is An Emergency

Today I arrived at work and greeted a colleague. We smiled and exchanged the normal "How was your weekend?" that has come to be the acceptable Monday-morning small-talk. However, he broke the unwritten rule of acceptable small-talk, by being abnormally honest and saying that he hasn't been doing too well, and has been going through a difficult time. I could see that he was bursting to get something off his chest, but even when I inquired as to what the matter is, he smiled his big, toothy grin and shrugged it all off with a mumble about 'family matters'.

My heart just ached for him, and I wished I could reach into his soul and touch it and make it all better... kind-of an emotional overreaction for Monday-morning small-talk, right? Yeah, that's what I thought too. 

But I've been putting some thought into it. A fellow human being is hurting. Someone I see almost every day. Someone who smiles at me every time. Even if our relationship is predominantly business, can I really bring myself to blatantly not care? Isn't it my responsibility as a human being to care, on some level? If not, wouldn't I simply be inhumane?

A fire is lighting in my spirit, slowly igniting over the last few months, and if I must be honest: it scares me. I can no longer deny that I have a passion for the broken. The scary thing about having a passion for broken people, is that there will always be broken people, which might make it what we call a 'losing battle'. But if you help just one person, have you really lost the battle? For that one person, it is an immense victory!

I was driving home this afternoon - my car now being a regular place of contemplation for me - and my iPod played a beautiful song that cut straight to my innermost being. Eerily, the song is an echo of this morning's experience with my colleague:

Tears of The Saints - by Leeland

The song describes a great deal of sadness, and one line in particular stands out: This is an Emergency. It is so true. This world is in a state of emergency, and it is our responsibility as humanity to care for one another. There will always be poverty. There will always be sickness and cruelty. But this is no reason for complacency - we are called to lead the broken home. 

So here I am, coming to terms with what God has laid on my heart, and wondering what to do with it. The way I'm feeling right now, I could easily throw caution to the wind and join the ministry full-time, but maybe once I figure it out for real, I will share it with you. 

For now, fellow inhabitants of this planet, please look after eachother. Be humane. Take the time to care. Allow the heart of God to pump in your chest. You will never see the world the same. 

Midnight ponderings about beauty and war

It's almost that time of year... the time where much of the world unites to commemorate the horrendous attacks on the Twin Towers on 9/11. I know, I know, this subject has become somewhat taboo over time, but I was watching a few minutes of a National Geographic documentary on the event, and I can't help myself. I know there must be millions of 9/11 blogs out there, all lamenting this same thing: how horrific and cruel that day was to the thousands of people who lost their lives, and their loved ones. This should never be taboo.

After a few minutes of National Geographic's disturbing documentary, I decided to retire to bed. As you can tell, I can't sleep, because here I am, lamenting about 9/11, like a million other people. Maybe nothing will ever erase this day from those of us who remember it, or remove the haunting feeling of loss - loss of life, loss of innocence, loss of safety. But I know that what I really need tonight, to get to sleep, is to know that beauty still exists. To know that all over this planet, there are still beautiful things among all the many atrocities.

To know that that there is still love...

And peace...

And innocence...

Unmarred beauty...

Commitment...

Laughter...

Small blessings...

And dreams...

And of course, beautiful music. Daniel Bedingfield sings one of my all-time favourite songs, Honest Questions, which without fail brings a tear to my eye.


Yes. There is still beauty in this world. While remembering the tragedy of 9/11 ten years ago, may you rest assure that all over this wondrous world, there is still beauty!

x Sleep tight x