The In-betweeness of Life

Untitled  by Crystal Neubauer

It seems impossible that I've been home from Seattle for something like 2 1/2 weeks now, I blinked, and my time there was over and now on this end of it looking back I can hardly find the words to describe the experience. And so I've waited to write. and waited to write. and waited to write. But still the words would not come.

So I'm pasting bits and pieces from private emails, conversations and posts elsewhere, creating a virtual collage with my own words...

May Day  by Crystal Neubauer

....I've been obsessed with buying coffee mugs lately. I had a sudden desire to replace every white mug in the cabinet with color, deep rich earthy color, and now the cabinet is overflowing.

And I've started seeking out hand crafted tea cup sized mugs- artist made- to display in a cabinet I don't own yet.

And pillows. And pottery. American art vases- the McCoy's and the Haggar's and some pretty squat vases. The affordable names, not the expensive brands. Not that I don't covet those.

I guess I've been nesting. After a year in this house without my own things, I have this deep urgent need to make it my own, to put my stamp on it and sink in my roots.

By and By  by Crystal Neubauer

Oh, and art supplies. I came home from the trip and ordered some things I wanted to use with the neighborhood kids. And then I walked through Blick and picked up more things I didn't really need, but really wanted. And then I came home and ordered more. I bought ten tubes of milk paint. Beautiful rich matte colors- Shiva Caseins. Somewhere I saw somebody using matte paint with collage and I ached inside. I don't even know what the other artist was using, but I stumbled on these and I knew I had to have them. There are pictures burning a hole in my mind and pressing in me to be birthed, but I'm not there yet. 

I had an appointment at a fine art gallery in Pioneer Square on my last day in Seattle, Gallery IMA, where I picked up representation. Walking in to that beautiful space, I felt an ache deep inside. A fluttering of recognition stirred my soul. This is something I knew God placed in me- this desire to create art and see it hanging in such a beautiful place. He spoke to me about it last year, just after leaving the house with the mold, just before moving to this new home- the ministry house, as it is referred to in this neighborhood. Yet in the waiting place, I allowed myself to doubt, just a little bit, that I heard Him correctly.

Earnestly I Seek You  by Crystal Neubauer

I came home from my trip bursting with inspiration, nearly two weeks of solid creative stimulation will do that to you. I could not wait to get home and get started. To get all these pictures out of my head and onto the canvas. Yet somewhere between arriving home and taking care of what needed to be done before I could get to the studio it disappeared. The inspiration, the images, the words. Only the ache remained.
 

Untitled  by Crystal Neubauer

This is the in-betweeness of my life. This is the type of year it has been. Between homelessness and finding my true home. Between finally coming into my own voice as an artist and suddenly feeling that raw passionate need to create something new. Between familiar old relationships and a new community. This is the life God has led me to. The step-by-step journey He has had me on. Between learning that I can fully trust Him in it, yet still being in awe when what He promises comes true. I settle into this room and gaze at a few carefully placed objects and relish in His goodness because of it. Finally knowing He is okay with me and that my life is in these in-between days, not at some distant place of which I have yet to arrive.

I Was Afraid and So I Hid

"I Was Afraid and So I Hid"  Mixed Media Collage Painting by Crystal Neubauer

The fifth of July found me waking to this feeling of deep gratitude for the place I am in after an evening spent in our neighbor’s backyard watching the profusely abundant, if not wasteful, display of fireworks being lit all around the lake.

A thick cloud of acidy smoke hung in the air and over the water, as if a mist on a chilly fall morning. Cars lined the narrow street, with every backyard, and the neighborhood park- smaller than a postage stamp itself- filled with celebration and revelry. Jarring explosives shook the ground sending thundering like tremors echoing across the water between the smaller cracks and pops of the legal variety of fireworks. I sat soaking it all in, fingers stuffed in my ears, among old friends and new, feeling at once connected to those around me and yet oddly detached from it all; a spectator from another country not quite certain how I came to arrive at this moment.

To observe my life from the outside, I imagine, would be less than impressive. Especially to the semi-close observer, those old friends and acquaintances who know just how broken and messy it's been. But I am in awe of the transformation I've seen in my husband and that in which I know has taken place inside of me. I think back to a day I sat bemoaning life to my wise counselor, and questioning my commitment to my marriage for the lack of physical evidence that anything solid or trustworthy was happening, "God is working an inside out change" she assured me.

At that time it was less than comforting to hear, but today I understand it to be different than the type of change that is equivalent to a band-aid being slapped on an infected wound. When change begins on the inside you can trust the thing to be healed.

"I Was Afraid and So I Hid"  Mixed Media Collage Painting by Crystal Neubauer

For so many years, decades really, I spun my wheels trying to make what I wanted to happen in life happen in order to have the peace and security I craved, but it always seemed to elude me. It was this thing that was as tangibly visible yet, as hard to hang on to as that cloud of smoke that hung across the water last night. A Pandora’s Box of voices cried out in the dark recesses of my mind wreaking havoc on my physical and emotional well being, anxiety swelling each time I peeked inside; "you're not good enough! You never do it right! You are a fool to think you can ever be (have, do) what you dream of!” they cried.

Those twelve steppers are on to something with their declarations of being powerless to change. How easy it is to see the need to say these words in the face of a true addiction, but for those of us who aren't feeding our insatiably hungry wounds with drugs or alcohol it is harder to recognize the addictive nature of the false self. Not feeling good enough? “Run! Hide!” it says.

“Fake it till you make it” is a good remedy if making it means trying to fool everyone into believing you have it all together, all-the-while living in constant anxiety of being found out for the imposter you know yourself to be.

Those people at the academy awards who upon receiving the coveted gold statue, I wonder if they know how profoundly they speak? "I'd like to thank God…” Yes. Yes, I would. I’d like to thank God for bringing me to a place where I was finally able to see the beauty of powerlessness and His willingness to do what I was never meant to on my own. 

I Was Afraid and So I Hid"  Mixed Media Collage Painting by Crystal Neubauer

 I imagine I learned the words “I can do it myself!” pretty early in life. They served me well when it came to tying my shoe or putting on my pajamas as a child. But what was intended to be the cry of a toddler bent on learning basic life skills, wound its way into my belief system so tightly it became a strangling mantra. It’s kind of hard for God to steer the thing when you’ve got a death grip on the wheel.

How sweet a lesson it is to learn just how capable He really is at handling it all. It’s the little things, more than anything, that set me back on my heels and reminds me how different life has become. There is a savory sweetness on the tip of my tongue upon waking after an evening spent with family and friends when I no longer feel the need to hide behind self-control. I am not perfect and that is okay. I’m learning that I am loved and loveable anyway.

And I’m learning to replace those words of stubborn independence, the old mantra, with a new prayer: “Lord, apart from you I can do nothing. I am laying this issue down at your feet and I thank-you that you have taken it.”

"He answered, “I heard you in the garden, and I was afraid because I was naked; so I hid.” ~Genesis 3:10

Swarm: A Journey of Creation in Beeswax

I am excited to share with you a show I am a part of called "Swarm: A Journey of Creation in Beeswax" at the Hanson Scott Gallery in Seattle.

The show will feature over 30 works of art created collaboratively by myself and fellow artists and EncaustiCamp instructors, Patricia Baldwin Seggebruch and Sue Stover. We have been working collectively on these works over the course of the past two years, mailing them between Chicago, Seattle and Santa Rosa with each artist adding her touch to each of the works on display.

The show will be up from July 3 through August 31 and the artists reception is set to coincide with our EncaustiCamp "field trip" day July 26 from 5-7 pm. Be sure to mark your calendar if you are in the Seattle area!

My Best Friend

Today my husband and I have been married for twelve years and I can honestly say I am married to my best friend. For those of you who know us, you know this isn't just a story of longevity and happily ever after. We aren't the "childhood friends who grew up and got married" kind of best friends. 

No that isn't our story.

Ours is a story of passionate pursuit, perseverance, and persistence. A story of brokeness and of depth of experiences, refusing to give up and finding joy in the midst of it all. It is a journey that grows more deeply and richly and continues on, flowing like a river - sometimes gentle and sunny and sweet and I can lie back in it, feeling the gentleness of it and the warmth on my skin; while other times it has been tumultuous and wild and risky and exuberant and I've had to hang on with everything I've got - not teenaged trashy movie, melodrama for the sake of a good conflict in the storyline of boy meets girl/loses girl/wins girl back; but truly a story of redemption. Coming to the cross and looking up to find the love that heals and makes whole and restores and rebuilds and repairs and renews.

It is this story that has made him my best friend. The realness and the rawness. Beauty from ashes. As the card he left by the coffee pot this morning reads "life isn't perfect, but love doesn't care." I eagerly await the next imperfect twelve years with you Larry Neubauer. I love you, my best friend. 

Taste and See

 "The Waiting is the Hardest Part"   collage mixed media by Crystal Neubauer

This weekend I found out three of my works were accepted into White Stone Gallery's annual Summer Show and I couldn't pretend this isn't a major big deal to me if I tried. This gallery represents Makoto Fujimura's work, so I am pretty much slobbering all over myself in stunned amazement. 

There is this side of me that wanted to play it all cool in front of you, like, I'm such a professional that I take this kind of thing in stride; that oddly self-protective side that doesn't want to show my vulnerability by telling you just how excited I actually am. But I can't help it, I am bouncing-on-my-tippy-toes-waiting-for-Santa- while-standing-by-the-shore-watching-my-ship-come-in-excited!

I really wanted to get in to this show but I tried not to get too anxious over it. I kept reassuring myself that God has me on a journey and I can trust him with it whether this opportunity opened up for me or not. But then the day the list was supposed to be posted online came and the gallery decided to reschedule the announcement by two whole days! 

And so my anxiety anticipation grew. 

I tried to let go and, you know, carry on with normal life. But there it was in the back of my mind for those two days tantalizing and keeping me ever so slightly on the edge of my seat. Finally the new time rolled around so I calmly logged on to the website, took a deep breath and squeezed my eyes half shut, peeking through my lashes, only to read that they rescheduled again! 

This time by just a few hours but once again my anxiety anticipation grew. I believe the words that came to mind were "I want this so badly I can taste it!"

hmmm...I want it so badly I can taste it? The thought caused me to stop as a feeling of condemnation started to creep in.

You see nine months ago I was looking for God's direction during an intense time of prayer; work, life, goal setting kind of direction and a very distinct word from the Lord came to me that I was to be a fine art artist and that was the avenue I should continue to pursue. In some Christian circles this kind of personal promise/word from God is called a "Rhema" and I had it to hold on to. I knew that it was mine and God wanted me to trust Him with it.

But after a few rejections from other shows that I had really hoped for this year, I was beginning to feel as if this promise was never going to come to fruition and maybe, just maybe, I needed to remind God about it. So there I sat on Saturday night during church having trouble focusing on just being with Him during worship and I prayed  "God you promised!" and "I want it so badly I can taste it!" with just the slightest bit of foot stomping for emphasis.

As soon as the thought formed I knew that I had gotten off track. The weight of condemnation settled on my shoulders with a heavy sigh. But just as quickly it lifted as I felt God's comfort wrap me like a caring friend.

"Yes, taste my child! Taste and enjoy this desire, but don't let it worry you. I placed this gift inside of you and it is I that is drawing it out. I gave you my word and you can trust me."

"Taste and enjoy. Taste and see that the Lord is good."

Taste and see that the LORD is good! How blessed is the person who trusts in him! ~Psalm 34:8