The Canvas
(c)08-25-2012

A canvas sets on the edge of greatness and beauty, blank, waiting for the touch of the master’s hand. She takes charge of what is to be. Gentle strokes, broad strokes, strokes that caress the canvas… leaving the marks of imagination, transforming nothing into beauty. The image emerges revealing the thoughts and desires and power of the canvas. It is breath-taking to the beholder. She understands the difference between OK and great. Nothing will do but great. It must emulate the original. It must be the original! So it is with our canvas of life.

We start life as a blank canvas. Brush strokes are made by those around us as we begin to grow. Made by mom, dad, friend and strangers alike. All try to add their image to our canvas. An image of who they think we are. As we grow into the artist we strive to be, we accept or reject the strokes of others and create a portrait we strive to become.

Some strokes by others can leave an off color, covering who we really strive to be. A brush stroke that is not us can be covered by our touch, our color, our imagination of who we are, adding integrity to the texture and hue. Revealing an inner beauty as the artist of our life takes control, guiding our hand, adding the touches that transform the canvas from OK to great.

The Artist chooses the colors, the brushes from which she wants to define her life. The decisions are hers to make as she selects the shades of color, or even black and white, that will define her life. She paints a portrait of peace and joy, of self-less love for family and friends.. All else is unimportant. The things of past are covered. Today and tomorrow are forming a painting that will be great.

Letting the Master’s Hand guide our hand, we find freedom flowing freely onto and into our canvas. In doing His will in our life, we are set free. A freedom indescribable at times as we are lost to the distractions of the past. Caught up in the hope and love of today.

The Master guides our hand, willingly or even unwillingly at times in our artistic endeavor. As we learn to relax and give Him control of our hands, He reveals the beauty that is within us. It is great.

I have heard being an artist and painting described as being easy but living life as being difficult and unsure. Life can be described as a series of brush strokes, choices. Some can destroy the beauty intended for our canvas. Some strokes can create breath-taking beauty which radiates outward, inspiring the ones observing our portrait.

This was inspired by a young friend of mine, she left a few brush strokes on my life. They will not be painted over. They will be treasured, remembered for a long time to come.

When I look into a mirror, I want to see Jesus, the Creator of my portrait.

A wasted life, from fog of use.
Scars untold, years of abuse,
Bends the mind, from right to wrong.
Life out of tune, no longer a song.
Scars so deep, it covers the heart
no hope shines through, no point to start
to erase the pain, it seems insane
To a life gone wrong,

Through the fog, a point of light
Shone bright,
At first, then to fade, to die
from self pity and pain, from the lie,
Can not forgive the pain of past.
Can not forgive myself, to last.

Through the fog, a hand reached out.
Took my hand, I had my doubt.
Been there, many times before
The hurts and hang ups, seemed to soar.
The voice said, “You are forgiven.”
“It's time to trust, to start livin'.”
The chains fell off, I was free.
To start anew, To trust, to BE.

A wasted life, in years of fog    
Now Forgiven.

The smell of burnt goodbyes
and strawberries
surrounded her

Battle scars displayed
down her arms
up her legs
across her hips

The smile on her face
didn't match
the blue in her eyes
and the red on her skin

She had lost the war
Her mind turned purple
and it all went black

How was I suppose to know
how deep these wounds would really go?
Sinking to a new low
for how cheaply I've sold my soul

Feeling like an animal
in a cage with no room to grow
Treated like a criminal
convicted of all that you stole

I am hollow
my time borrowed
die today
live tomorrow

Whys it so subliminal?
around these issues we tip toe
Pain is more than physical
from hitting bottom of this hole

Couldnt be more miserable
but I guess you reap what you sow
I suppose I'll let it go
and tumble on down this spiral

I am hollow
my time borrowed
die today
live tomorrow

Its the bed that I made
foot in the grave
whats left to save
with everything I paid?

All my life
I sought
an angel.
And he appeared
in order to say:
"I am no angel !"

Only once in your life, I truly believe,
you find someone who can
completely turn your world around.
You tell them things that you’ve
never shared with another soul and
they absorb everything you say and
actually want to hear more. You share
hopes for the future, dreams that will
never come true, goals that were
never achieved and the many
disappointments life has thrown at
you. When something wonderful
happens, you can’t wait to tell them
about it, knowing they will share in your excitement. They are not
embarrassed to cry with you when
you are hurting or laugh with you
when you make a fool of yourself.
Never do they hurt your feelings or
make you feel like you are not good
enough, but rather they build you up
and show you the things about
yourself that make you special and
even beautiful. There is never any
pressure, jealousy or competition but
only a quiet calmness when they are
around. You can be yourself and not
worry about what they will think of
you because they love you for who
you are. The things that seem
insignificant to most people such as a
note, song or walk become invaluable
treasures kept safe in your heart to
cherish forever. Memories of your
childhood come back and are so clear
and vivid it’s like being young again.
Colours seem brighter and more
brilliant. Laughter seems part of daily
life where before it was infrequent or
didn’t exist at all. A phone call or two
during the day helps to get you
through a long day’s work and always
brings a smile to your face. In their
presence, there’s no need for
continuous conversation, but you find
you’re quite content in just having
them nearby. Things that never
interested you before become
fascinating because you know they
are important to this person who is so
special to you. You think of this
person on every occasion and in
everything you do. Simple things
bring them to mind like a pale blue
sky, gentle wind or even a storm
cloud on the horizon. You open your
heart knowing that there’s a chance it
may be broken one day and in
opening your heart, you experience a
love and joy that you never dreamed
possible. You find that being
vulnerable is the only way to allow
your heart to feel true pleasure that’s
so real it scares you. You find strength
in knowing you have a true friend and
possibly a soul mate who will remain
loyal to the end. Life seems
completely different, exciting and
worthwhile. Your only hope and
security is in knowing that they are a
part of your life.

Thank you for the self doubt, today.
I was too shocked to retaliate properly,
it seemed too obvious to say
the words that I wished to.

That I am not you.

I'll not make your mistakes
I won't choose those men
the type you forever chose
time and time again.

I'm not you.

I am filled with self consciousness,
low self esteem,
my trust issues are high
and my confidence is not what it seems.

You made me a wreck.

I'm not you,
I'm paranoid and
suspicious and
tense.
Always waiting in
suspense
to pull up my
defences once
again.

But, I'm not you.

I'm always going to try,
I'll always have to
trust with
reluctance,
but trust I must do.
I am not you,
I'm going to find
happiness, this
I know is true.

I'm going to be with someone
who doesn't make me scared,
instead one who comes to my defence,
one who does not glare me into a corner.

"She was not like the mother who bore her"

Romantic I may be
but ignorant I am not
I would rather rot alone
then jump into bed
fully besotted
straightaway.

I'd rather wait and stay
wary. Rather
worry about their lateness
of arrival
then get on the first ride
I see.

What was it you wished me to be?
Stop being scared about your mistakes
and allow me to be me...
After all of that I think I know who I want to be.

Partly you
Partly Dad
Partly memories
Partly friends
Partly family

but, mostly and absolutely

Me. Why is this so difficult for you to see?