Drawings from my Healing Journal


 

Black pen and colored pencils, 2004

I began drawing in my healing journal often to fulfill assignments from Ginger. The drawing below was in response to a dream I had of a grape vine growing through a chain link fence and an aloe dying.

I was interested in aloe as a healing plant but killed a number of them in a row which frustrated me and seemed particularly perverse- killing the healing plant.  Whenever they started to wilt, rather than let them dry out, I watered them again, assuring their demise.  Several years ago, I received another aloe from a friend, over-watered again, and tossed the whole mess to compost behind my garden under an overhang in the blazing sun.  I was double-checking my garden the night before first freeze and found the aloe alive and well.  I repotted it in the same container, brought it in, and have been at peace with tending it as it needs ever since.  I have 2 aloe plants which I have kept alive for over a year now.  I can see how my co-dependence didn't allow me to be responsive to people or plants; no matter what they needed, I was going to be over-involved, over tending relationships and plants alike.  I was unable to give what was really needed because I needed to give too much.  It blesses me to see the change in myself.

Grape vines brought to mind images of drastic pruning, cutting back to the wood so that new growth would bear more fruit.  I think that pretty much sums up my experience this last decade.  And two summers ago, Tim planted a grape vine and has since added several more in our front yard.


I found that I often drew on my personal retreats.  I felt that it helped me to slow down and appreciate the beauty, connect to the moment, and get into my body.
Last year's grass- dead yet starkly beautiful and promising- reminded of my own life.  Experimenting with how to draw the same thing different ways.  Drawing the same cross in different seasons- really observing the changes, coming back to the same places.  

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And then after only using black pen in the whole book, there was life in full bloom.