Talk about square pegs in round holes...

Earlier this week I posted that others supposedly more experienced than I had led me to believe that I could not read Tarot cards because I didn't read the cards 'their' way, and I learned that was an outmoded belief system. I can read the Tarot. Quite well, in fact.

I now realize that I've been equally misled about my painting skills.

See, I love to paint. I love the colors. I love the feeling as the hues flow from my paintbrush (and quite often my fingers and thumbs when the brush won't cooperate). My teachers throughout high school always graded my work as 'adequate', but suggested other ways of doing it. Ditto college. Ditto when I took A-Level art in England.

The teacher there was great, though. I'll always be indebted to her.

I'd started working in clay, because it was three dimensional, but I was never completely happy with what I produced. I attended the college open house and I met the art teacher (funny, I met the writing teacher that day too... I wonder if there is a pattern emerging, with ysabetwordsmith telling me I could indeed write, and another friend telling me I could indeed read tarot...). The art teacher -- Kathleen although her last name escapes me (6 degrees of separation; anyone know Kathleeen W who teaches at Blackpool and the Fylde College?) -- looked at my attempts at sculpting and told me I needed to learn to draw.

I enjoyed the art classes immensely. I enjoyed the escaping of working in a factory and dealing with financial shortages (ahem, another pattern??) and getting away from it all for 5 hours a week. To say I was successful is rather an exaggeration, though.

Kathleen was always telling us, "Draw what you see." When we did our first nude, I did just that. I saw a series of triangles where the muscle tissue lay under the skin. My nude was just that, a series of adequately proportioned shaded triangles. Kathleen just rolled her eyes and said, "We haven't covered Picaso yet."

Another time we were doing a still life, and I was getting increasingly frustrated because I couldn't make the bowl look round by building it up, like I could with clay. Finally Kathleen let me loose on a collection of items in the studio. String, paste, sand, whatever made me happy, as long as there was paint in it. I think once I added my fingers to the mixture rather than work with brushes (something else that made Kathleen roll her eyes) I managed to produce something of a passing grade.

So you see why I liked this teacher; she 'did' let me explore being me, even though I still had to conform enough to adapt to the curriculum.

The point of all these ramblings is I have discovered I can paint. I can paint reasonably well, in fact. Just because it looks more like folk art or The Beatles' Yellow Submarine (thank you Peter Max) or something from Morgan's Tarot than a Turner or Rembrandt doesn't mean it isn't art and doesn't mean it isn't acceptable art. Just because it doesn't conform with someone else's idea of art doesn't mean it has no value. It has value to me. Talk about enlightenment!

(ponder) Perhaps this is why Van Gogh is my favorite 'old master'; he too didn't conform. My friend Ron calls Van Gogh 'a dauber' (Ron's hero is William Morris). Ron would probably call me a caricaturer (if that is even a word). I know he calls me a hippy (laughs)!

The point of this post is that I am learning not to take others' opinions to heart. I'm learning also not to impose my opinions onto anyone -- including myself -- because I'm learning that for the most part my opinions are now outdated and no longer fit the Old Crone I am becoming. 

I'm breaking molds, reaching out, touching new realities. I'm enjoying what I paint, I'm painting what I enjoy. I may even make some of my creations into collages or bead embroidery one day.

I'm discovering a whole new world of creation free of constraint and preconceived ideas, and life is becoming very very VERY rich indeed.

I think I am loving turning 50. Watch this space......

I found this 'really' useful Tarot exercise on Mary K. Greer's blog.

After studying the Tarot for nearly 20 years, and telling people for that long that I couldn't read it, I discovered something amazing this summer. I can read the Tarot. Quite well, in fact. I just had teachers (and books and other Tarot readers) tell me I was doing it 'wrong'. Apparently I either didn't lay the cards out in the Celtic Cross which I supposedly 'had' to do, or the meanings I got from the cards didn't agree with the meanings someone else got from the cards, ergo I must be 'wrong'.

And it was that 'ergo' that was 'wrong', not the way I was doing things!

I also find it interesting that as I am exploring Shamanic Astrology and making manifest my shamanic garden and writing about shamanism in classes at the Grey School of Wizardry, now I realize that the Tarot is also speaking to me shamanically, and very vividly, too. Fancy that. I'm seeing all sorts of correlations and correspondences, and the Tarot is not just speaking to me, it is whispering and singing and shouting and dancing and invading my dreams. I don't think I have ever been quite so prolific in my writing since I have started working with the Tarot once again.

When I first realized that I 'could' read the cards -- only I did it 'my' way rather than the way everyone else told me I 'had' to do it (duh moment, I've always done things 'my' way, why should this be any different?!) -- I banged my head on the desk, because I have -- as I mentioned -- spent the last 18 years drooling over Tarot decks then passing them along to someone else because I didn't think I was gelling with them. I took four different Tarot classes from four different instructors; never finished one of them because I was so very frustrated that I wasn't seeing in the images what they told me I was supposed to see.

Maybe I had to spend the last 20 years learning about the Totem Animals and Spirit Guides, working with stones and crystals and herbs in order to get me into a place of receptivity so, that when I did finally start working with the Tarot, I could fly with it like I am doing now. Some nights I don't even want to go to sleep, because I just want to keep writing and studying and working with the archetypal images. (Never fear; this is actually developing into dream work, and another Grey School Class on "Dreaming with the Tarot"!)

The moral of this? Never ever ever let someone tell you that you can't do something, just because you are doing it differently. What is the quote? "Either I will find a way, or I will make one," (Phillip Sydney).

My friend ysabetwordsmith always told me I was a better writer than I thought I was. She helped me with ideas, worked with me when I got stuck, and edited my work to the point that I started to recognize what errors I was making before I made them. She enabled me to want to better myself. Thank you, so very much, dear one.

And now, I have "Astrological Tarot" to write!

PS:

Current 'drool deck' is Tarot of Dreams by Ciro Marchetti. Yes it is digital art, but oh my goodness what talent!

Current 'pen and ink' inspiration comes from our own haikujaguar (although she probably doesn't even know I exist *grins*). Seeing her past work has given me the urge to get painting again; something I haven't done in over a year.

Apart from writing, my most recent addiction is knitting tarot card bags. Maybe I should change my name from Rainbow to Tarot....

Welcome to the Picasso School of Cosmetic Surgery!



Well, it made me giggle........