A Symphony of Grace Amidst Singing Winds

“A Symphony of Grace, Amidst Singing Winds”

(Picture Source: Heidi Holt, www.HeidiHoltSculpture.com)


Over the next few weeks I’m going to be hosting a few great guest posters here on the blog, as well as posting some news about developments coming in the new year.

Today I’m delighted to have Deanne Welsh guest posting for me. Deanne is an excellent writer, who writes poetically and with a tender heart, and has an important message to share with us all, I know you’re going to be blessed by her writing today.

I rest my hand against my throat to feel my pulse, momentary indentation quickly filled. The human body, this form of flesh, intrigues me. Bone structure and muscles allowing me to stand, move, reach and touch. Eyes, these tinted windows, filter light and shadow into transmissions my brain interprets as pictures with depth, color and texture.

When I read, listen to, or view art, my heart constricts, weighted down and then filled. Crushed by my aloneness and yet feeling the pull of a thousand strings that open my heart, connecting me to the artist and humanity.

When I connect deeply to a piece of art, I feel a sense of ownership over it.

Although man was created in the image of God, our process of creating, unlike God’s, is messy, filled with distractions, false starts and detours. A sculpture artist confided in me that the face of the sculpture I admired on her business card had to be sculpted from scratch four separate times. The clay kept cracking because it dried before she could caste it in bronze. Four times she had lifted the heavy head and face from the place it had fallen, to begin again.

Staring at the sculpture and its perfection (above), I found it difficult to picture the time, frustration and focus she had poured into its creation.

When we create, we reach deep into ourselves or the world, pulling a part of ourselves or the human experience out, and we breathe it into our work. Just as God breathed life into mankind, we breathe our life–time, energy, focus–into our work. We pray it becomes alive and moves into the world. Motivations and visions vary, but every artist desires to see something created where before there was nothing; we create out of the void.

We learn, rub up against and are inspired by others, but when we create, we are traveling into uncharted territory. We harness the medium of our choice to our vision, however blurred, of the completed piece and then our work begins. The path is tumultuous. We push through the process of creating, trying to infuse the piece with all we have. A blank page becomes a story and a lump of clay, a sculpture.

Creating is a lonely process as I pour my heart and meaning into the piece. Once it is completed, in that moment before it is released into the world, I pause. This is my creation; I reflect on the process and meaning of my labor. Basking in the safety and stillness of this moment, I listen for the soft heartbeat of my work.

Opening my palm, I set the piece free and watch it become small in the distance. My nervous heart is choked like a mother watching her child board the school bus on their first day of school. I hope…

We may wish to inspire, comfort, humor, or intrigue our readers. We may hold our breath as pieces of our flesh and soul are interlaced with each word and clump of clay, and now lay vulnerable and exposed for others to see, critique, or praise.

It’s easy to stop creating. I want to lay a string of words between us, but upon opening my mouth

I become shy. The words become soft clay that drip from my fingers, too soft to sculpt into a solid form, or like warm rain, evaporating before it reaches the ground. It’s easy to allow our creations to be stopped and silenced before we give them form. We leave them in the recesses of our minds, like weeds plucked from the earth and left on the pavement to die.

I’ve lost count of the creations I’ve killed through neglect. The past is done. This is my new life. My writing life. I bleed and push myself. The empty page stares at me as I sit and wait. Finally, the words come: awkward, gangly, fragmented words. I write, read, re-read, revise, cross out, re-write and eventually send into the world.


What are you creating?

What gives you courage to continue creating something out of nothing? 



90bea677727ad6a71028700624906df4_biggerDeanne Welsh is a girl from the sea. She grew up sailing around the world. She writes for Turning Points magazine and loves words, stories, salsa dancing, and deep conversations. She lives with her husband in San Diego, CA, and hopes to live there for a very long time.  You can find more of her writing at her blog  www.eclecticwaters.com and find her on Twitter at @Eclecticwaters

Living with Dragons: How to protect your inner world” is her step by step handbook on facing your fears and silencing the lies that hold you back. You can sign up to receive a copy this e-book FREE by clicking here. 



Would you like to guest post?


DownloadedFile-1Over the next few months I’m going to be hosting more guest posts here. I’ve already got some amazing pieces lined up for you from some amazing writers.

If you’d like me to host your writing, just go here, then you can find out more about how to submit a guest post, the guidelines, and contact details, on this page.

Though I can’t guarantee I’ll publish every post, I will read each submission & give feedback.

I’d really love to hear from you. So to find out more, just click here.






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James Prescott

Hi, I’m James. I live near London. I’m a fan of good food, comic-book movies, & books. I love to write, and I coach other writers & creative people. Thank you for being part of my community. read more...

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