When the Spirits Swirl

Dear friends,

As I unpacked from the chaos of a move, I found a painting that I had done. It was my first attempt at oil painting and I hadn’t paid much attention to it when I had finished. But, re-finding it, as I unpacked, brought up a surprising reaction.

At first glance, it looks like a landscape — a sun or moon hanging above the water, light rippling into reflection. But when I stepped back, I didn’t just see light and trees. I felt haunted.

The brushstrokes around the glowing center looked like spirits swirling — not threatening, but insistent. As if memory, grief, and voices long tucked away had found their way onto the canvas.

And yet, below them, the water steadied me. Its stillness offered a place to rest, even as the spirits moved overhead.

That’s the power of art: it reveals what we don’t always know we’re carrying. And in the revealing, there’s healing. Once the unseen is given form, on canvas, in words, in movement, it stops living only inside us. It becomes something we can look at, learn from, and sometimes, let go of.

Maybe the spirits will stay. Maybe they’ll keep speaking. But now, they have found a place to live. I don’t have to carry them anymore.

Reflection for you:
What might art — in any form — be waiting to reveal for you? A sketch, a poem, a song, even a doodle in the margin. Healing doesn’t always come from explanation. Sometimes it comes from expression.

With savage grace,
Cathy

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