Energy Thread of an Object, My Lost Painting

Lately in meditation, an image of an idea for a piece of art will come to me. Today, an image came of a painting I made back in art school. I always find it so interesting when something that hasn’t come to mind in ages – a memory, object, place, scent – suddenly reemerges and it’s like a revelation, “oh my goodness, that existed” (happened, occurred, etc.)

This painting was large compared to the size work I had generally created before that time and it was one of the first pieces that I felt really connected to because I was able to do my own thing without project prompts or requirements from an instructor. It was an abstract piece titled Can My Heart Break if It’s Only Made of Atoms? that embodied my internal exploration at the time that we aren’t this material world, even though scientists and common belief is that feelings come from some sort of chemical reaction in the brain and so on.

One of my main talking points in discussions on this topic was that when we have a wound, what heals it? The scientifically inclined person opposite me would, of course, discuss white blood cells and the like, and I would ask again, “but what tells the white blood cells to do that?” And then they would talk further about the brain and various chemical processes and directions sent that created a cascading response, and so on. And I would continue, “but what tells the coding to do that? What creative and loving force says, ‘let’s heal this’?” Inevitably, they did not know the answer, and so then would open again and again for me the door of contemplation of a loving, creative energetic intent that is the core, and our starting point, the truth of what we are.

And so, this painting abstracted organs and the internal body into a beautiful design that was expanding outward, hoping and prodding that the viewer would ask, “Well, can my heart break if it’s only made of atoms?” and that they might come to the answer, “Hmmm, no, there must be more.”

Shortly after college, I ended up in a relationship with a man who, to me, when I first met him seemed charismatic, passionate, friendly, smart, driven, and kind. In reality, he was certainly driven, definitely passionate – specifically about the the things toward which he was driven, smart, and knew how to be charming, but he was egoic, controlling, not kind – unless it benefitted him or his image, and lacked empathy and compassion, as well as awareness. However, at that time, I was unable to see this, as I always pointed everything negative I felt inward at myself (a pattern from being told and conditioned that there was something wrong with me) and I did not trust my own instincts nor did I feel deserving. So, I ended up with someone who reflected that, and felt that I “loved” him, which I did open my heart and love him. And because of that love, I gave him the painting.

After a little while, things weren’t going well as I tried to speak up for myself, which he did not like, and one day, over instant messenger (can you imagine?), he broke up with me and then immediately went silent refusing to communicate any further to offer closure or have a decent ending. A few months later, he felt that “enough time” had gone by that he wanted to reconnect. He felt that by then I may be different. There was a huge part of me that wanted to go back to him, and initially I accepted the invitation to meet, but thankfully I cancelled it and did not.

In any case, due to my low self worth and other issues, I still pined for him, but after I did not accept his invitation to get together, he again cut off all communication and did not respond when I reached out to him, asking for closure and kindly sending him the items I had of his that I knew he treasured. He did not get what he wanted and so, true to his nature, he was done with me.

He, someone with that type of energy flowing through them, is who I gave the painting to, and today when it entered my awareness, I felt such a connection to it, that I could feel how the painting “felt” energetically when I was creating it and standing right in front of it when it was finished. I could feel my heart was still connected with it, and I wondered what had happened to it’s physical form. I felt grief that I had shared this creation with someone who devalued me in many ways, and I felt that the devaluing of the painting was a certainty.

I know that he did not keep it, and so, where is it? I intuitively feel it ended up in a landfill and that the discarding of it was extremely unceremonious, if not aggressive and violent. In my contemplation, I saw it there, amongst the decay, torn and mangled. And I can feel a thread from my heart to it, not actually in this physical, material reality, but more energy to energy, that that painting’s energy is my energy and it can’t not exist.

I felt inspired again to create on that subject matter, to invoke and hold close to me that energy field again and create some new work in that painting’s, and my own heart’s, honor.