The Reluctant Artist

I am a freelance artist, and an avid poet. A Jaqueline of all trades and a Master Chef

[lavenus79]

According to an Instagram content creator, your ability to hear is dependent on the frequency of sound.

In other words, I have difficulty hearing consonants like "s," "f," "th," and "t".

Tests like these are not reliable because factors like the quality of your headphones or background noise can significantly skew the results.

I’m going to stick to the tests my audiologist gave me. I’m deaf and hard of hearing.

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I was going through my art portfolio and found this old poem I wrote about my depression.

This was written during my mental evaluation at the Davis County clinic in Utah.

It was sometime in March of 2004. I was released from duties as a Senior Airman in April 24,2004. It happened so fast.

This poem was so full of heartache. I couldn’t understand why my husband at the time believed I have lost my mind.

After the divorce in 2009, I regained most of my dignity as a woman of faith, and integrity.

Reading this now seems like a distant memory fading into obscurity.

There were moments when I do feel lonely, but I was never alone because God has always been there for me. I have dreams he would come visit me. “Daddy! You’re home! I so much to tell you!” He would smile, pick me up and listen.

I never had that opportunity to experience such a lovely thing.

I was beaten up a lot. No child should ever have to experience their sacred space violated — especially not from a parent. I wanted to tell my father what my mother did to me. Instead, my mother had her friends violate my body instead. My father scolded me for allowing them to do so. Thanks to my mother’s malicious voice, my father believed her.

Regardless of what I’ve been through. I’d rather had it been me than my sisters. My mother was not a safe parent. My father did nothing to protect my sisters and me until we moved to America.

Even though I think of death as a peaceful end to my sufferings, I would gladly suffer for the sake of my sisters to never experience such things again.

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Jesus tells his followers, "You are the light of the world." Again Jesus spoke to them saying, "I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life." The Bible contains many scriptures which speak of light and its importance in fighting back the darkness. I learned that even in the darkness, the Lord will bring you towards the light (Peter 2:9).

Has God ever touched your life? I will not be offended if you answered, "No." 25 years growing up in a domestic violent home under my parents' care, and 7 years of domestic abuse from the 1st marriage led me to suffer from clinical depression, and chronic anxiety from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. What that means is my body no longer has the ability to naturally create serotonin.

My primary care doctor, psychiatrist, psychologist, and behavioral therapist all agreed that I need to get out more. It's been 20 years since I left the violent and traumatic environment. I'm grateful that it's getting easier. My 2nd husband has been very supportive of my healing journey. He has been very patient by communicating what he needs from me to keep our relationship healthy. We have to be lighthouses to each other. Just because I'm suffering, doesn't mean he has to suffer too. When we don't have the strength, or the faith to continue the good work of God, we might look up at the ner tamid (eternal light) in the sanctuary or any sacred spaces - even as we waver, the light in our heart and soul does not dim.

The theology behind this midrash was famously articulated by the philosopher Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel. Rabbi Heschel taught that Judaism is based most deeply not in our human question — "God, are you there?" — but rather in God's question, first posed to Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden and to all of us since: "Where are you?" The Bible speaks not only of man's search for God but also of God's search for man.

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It's that time of year again

Welcome back to Instagram. Sign in to check out what your friends, family & interests have been capturing & sharing around the world.

Trying to get my artwork to my other IG account. @Zereuwk was my main account until someone pointed out that I need to separate my artwork from my personal posts, but it's been a difficult endeavor 🤔

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I meant to post this on Sunday. I have been hit really hard with ragweed allergies and Seasonal Affective Disorder Syndrome.

This one took a while because the numbers wouldn't disappear. I think this had 7 coats of paint. You can still see the numbers 😫

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I finished this piece today. Painting by numbers is definitely fun and helping me get better with brush detailing. I'm still getting used to painting with acrylics. They're not easy for me because they dry really fast. I bought myself a solvent. Hopefully for the next painting, it'll be smoother to paint.

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I finished this painting today because I wanted to remove the product advertising on the border.

My husband found this on Amazon sold by a seller under the pseudonym of Sendaoer. I understand that they are selling this product but give the buyers a little consideration. Put your name on a card or at the back of the product.

Anyway, the reason why I started painting by numbers because I'm still struggling with starting a painting project on my own.

By the prescription of my Therapist, I need to find something to do to occupy my idle time with recreational activities. In due time my body will start learning to reproduce more endorphins.

[lavenus79]

I meant to post this finished painting 3 days ago. I have been quite distracted as of late. It's not an excuse, really. I'm learning how to communicate better without being emotionally overwhelmed. The last 3 months have been brutal for me; both mentally and emotionally. I got a hold of my therapist and she helped me recall some doubts and concerns. After talking it through, I felt better. I realize that I still need a neutral entity in my life to talk things out. I'm writing more often in my journal. Things haven't been the same since my last Blogger entry and Facebook post.

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I haven't drawn, painted or colored in a while. A lot of emotional baggage has come up. I got into crafting again. I really find it difficult to craft whenever it gets cold or stormy. I feel like Clark Kent on Kryptonite whenever a storm or tornado hits especially when it gets colder in the winter. By colder, I mean lower than 65°F. I went down to Michael's Art and Craft store to pick up some florals, decor, flavors and paint brushes. I made this for a friend. She wanted a non-traditional bouquet. This focus (most articifers use to channel their mystic spells) symbolizes Support, Life, the Light of Divinity, wisdom, intellect, and good works as well as a gateway to another plane. To my wonderful friend: May your unity with your partner be fulfilled with love, serenity, longevity and prosperity for all eternity.

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The ultimate forgiveness

I bought this painting back in March. I wanted to gift this as a mother's day token for my mother. Unfortunately, the remnants of her reproach towards my lifestyle is still an open sore wound. It wasn't until last week of June 12, I decided to paint it. This painting will be a token of all the memories that could have been. I will hang it up on my wall to remind me that hope remains and forgiveness is everlasting. As I was painting, my mind was ruminating the events that led to every decision I made since I was 7 years old. I refuse to label my mother a narcissist, because I know some where deep in that heart of hers, she is capable of loving others unconditionally. I've seen it long before we moved to Brunei. I've seen it again in the span of 18 years attempting to reconcile our strained relationship. I was 7 when my mother introduced me to Christianity. She said I would go to hell for being disobedient. She proclaimed that I needed Jesus Christ as my lord and savior from going to hell. I believed her. At least, I thought that was how converting to Christianity worked. I've always been loyal. Regardless of my idiosyncrasies and eccentricities, I love her unconditionally. I've never fought back during those incidents she had hit me with objects. Having an industrial stapler thrown across your head or a drafting metal ruler struck across your skull or a frying pan across your side are things you wouldn't think any loving parent would use against a child. People would think me stupid for loving an abusive person, but she is still my mother. I know the difference between discipline and abuse. I know my eccentricities and idiosyncrasies are annoying to most people, but I at least try to make amends. I was never successful until I met my current husband. I was 15 when God revealed himself to me in a dream. I followed His instruction. I was the youngest member to be baptized in Pastor Medina's church. My mother taught me to be self-sufficient, self-reliant and to always lead by example. She encouraged me to be the best in everything that I do. Unfortunately, what my mother wants currently from me is detrimental to my health and my faith. That's not something I am willing to sacrifice for the sake of my family and my steadfast relationship with God. I got married at 21. I got pregnant at 22 and became a young mother at 23. With Christ's guidance, I took parenting and self-help classes to improve my life skills. As much as I love to say I had a perfect marriage with Chris, I cannot. Our marriage ended in abuse much like my parent's household. The only difference is, I was forgiven. God sent me a lot of friends and strangers to help me survive my tribulations. At this point of my life, I finally understood the message. God is merciful (Exodus 34:6-7). God is love (1 John 4:16). God is faithful (Lamentations 3:22-23). The Son of Man is Lord of the Sabbath (Matthew12:8; 18:11; Luke 5:24; John 5:19; Colossians 1:17; 1 Thessalonians 5:23; Mark 12:28-34; John 3:36; 6:61-65; 14:28; 20:31) I may not be perfect to my mother, but I have been made perfect in God's eyes. I believe Jesus, who died and rose again, has forgiven all of my sins (Roman 5:10; Acts 2:38). When I committed my life to Christ as a born-again Christian, I struggled to fit in. No matter what church I went to, I was criticized, condemned and rejected. The reasons why I teach instead of evangelizing, is not only because of my experiences growing up in the church of my parents' household, but the way the message was delivered to me by other churches. In lieu of emulating the church, I decided that it would be best to educate those who are weak in faith, to know my story. My hopes that my testament of faith will show them that God's faithfulness to those who are poor in spirit, mourning, meek, hungry, persecuted, and being bullied is a gift of redemption and a gift of miracles. Since my mother is part of my story, I cannot stay silent. Otherwise, I would be fulfilling the prophecy of 2 Corinthians 4:4 which is opposite of Jesus’ instructions in

Matthew 28:19-20. I love my mom a lot. I miss her smile and tender-hearted motherly love. Since she has expressed numerous distaste towards my lifestyle, I can no longer be in her presence. In the span of 18 years of my attempts to reconcile our relationship and bonding, she has continued to exemplify Saul of Tarsus and King Lear. As broken-hearted as I am, I am holding on to the hope that God will heal her unforseen struggles. However, I am letting go of the burden she gave me, which has negatively impacted my health and been oppressing my faith. To know if someone has truly forgiven you, it is by their actions. I have forgiven my mother and will be continuing to do so by imparting wisdom to my own child. With that being said, I have been living by example according to Jesus' teaching. I summarized all of my experiences and lessons in one paragraph: My beautiful child. Be kind. Dream boldly. Love unconditionally. Pursue happiness. Seek truth. Live fully. Don't fret when things don't go your way. Some things aren't meant to be controlled. Forgive genuinely. Appreciate wholeheartedly. Respect humbly. Choose wisely. Fall gracefully. Above all else, Be Free. I'm 42 years old. I'm living the best life any Christian believer could ever ask for. To God be the glory. In Jesus' mighty name, Amen.

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The Joy of Painting with Bob Ross - Mt. McKinney Season 1; Episode 2

https://youtu.be/RInDWhYceLU

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The Joy of Painting with Bob Ross

Season 1: Episode 1