Okay so 4am has become 5am as God and I listen to the noises strangely overlooked by the day. I am aware of being in a timeless place at the moment. As I enter the half way point in this icon creation project I am aware that it has happened before this feeling, on one level I experience an intense detachment from the mundane business of the world and yet on another an intense awareness of it's pain and suffering. For the few weeks as I have engaged in this icon project I have found myself bathing in deep gentle grief. When I am not looking at it as I paint I am compelled to immerse myself in it in my time away.
This manifests in odd ways like a current obsession with watching Grays Anatomy, so far I think I am up to programme 35 or heaven forbid extreme makeover. There is something about watching something where I can have a good cry, be it for joy and gratitude or another poignant death in a medical drama which acts almost as a pressure valve.
Each day to look into the face of a grieving Mary, her crippled hands empty as I paint her, has been a challenge. As I wait for the gold leaf to set I have begun my second icon in the series for the St Johns Chapel which is a lamentation. Jesus, dead, is pulled right up into the lap of his grieving Mother, John holds his hand tenderly and Mary Magdalene holds his feet.
Although I am not sure if it will be ready for Easter, I am determined to engage in a third icon of the Resurrection after these two. Then I think I will be released to paint anew. It will be interesting to engage in Easter this year as I would have to say in this project so far I feel as if I have engaged in it already.
On a late night (Megan is in one of her weird spaces) side note, the Holy Water I keep in the icon room evaporated the other day. It felt good to think that I and all who have painted over the last while have at some level been breathing the Holy Water in.
Maybe now I shall attempt some sleep and then comeback and edit this so that it becomes something more than the incomprehensible ramblings of a sleep deprived artist in the midst of prayer.
Blessings to you and yours