For the second time now –
I have experienced a very strong desire to sketch the human form.
The first time I experienced this,
I was given the opportunity to view the masculine body in repose – at rest.
Beautiful in size, shape, form.
Lines sculpted by the hand of God flowed from one sloping angle to the next creating smooth curves and shapes that – together – formed his image.
“Let us make man in our image.”
Art, a perfect display – the ingenuity and creativity of Our God – The Living God – lie before me.
I was overwhelmed with the beauty of this man’s body – I had never seen anything like it in color, nor dimension.
I experienced an emotion I have not yet named.
It was something like appreciation, mixed with awe,
drenched with the sense of experiencing a great privilege.
The second time I witnessed the miracle of God’s creation was in a woman.
I was present to observe her feminine form while she sat in a shower, her head facing forward, hair cascading down her back with tiny streams of water that caused it to lie in vertical perfection as rivulets flowed lower, causing the effect to have impact.
Fluidity in motion saturated my vision.
Eve beneath waterfall.
Her shoulders, which had water droplets on them, curved downward into rounded arms, arms that framed the lines – the narrowing lines of rib cage to waist.
From waist there was the gentle outward flaring of hips – femininity in its purest display – God’s handiwork made visible to me in a sacred moment.
It was wrapped in spiritual ribbon – a gift – the gift of sight.
I want to sketch – with charcoals.
There is an image that was born in my mind one day – an image that my friend Jeffrey unknowingly gave me when he told me what sailors do to stay clean while exploring the wide open seas. I asked him if they jumped into the ocean to bathe. He said sometimes they take advantage of a good rain.
Instantly the image of a man on the deck of a sailboat wearing cut-off shorts invaded my mind.
In the vision, the time of day was dusk – he was standing in the rain, his face turned upward.
Gentle rain was falling over man, over boat, and spilling into the ocean.
He had soap suds on wide shoulders – soap suds were dripping down his muscled calves, pooling onto the deck and puddling around his feet near a yellow bucket.
I wanted to paint the image.
I think I am going to take a class.
The desire wells up within me.
It is a sign.
Something is trying to be born.
I am going to bring the baby to birth.