When my family gave me a watercolor painting set for my birthday, little did I realize that I would start painting at my age, much less suspect that painting would have an impact on my prayer life. But that is just what happened. Since taking up painting as a hobby, I have found that it has given my prayer life a jump start and taught me a great deal about the art of praying. Perhaps it was just a coincidence, but I think not.

To paint is to immerse oneself totally in the activity at hand and to become oblivious to all else. Time seems to standstill as one is more and more caught up in the creative process and tries to give outward form to an inner vision or idea. To be
sure, techniques may help, but they cannot replace imagination and creativity. We are all God's creation and are meant to tap the creative energies within us. Creativity is a spiritual force as well as a spiritual experience. By opening ourselves to exploring our creative possibilities we open ourselves to God himself.

Prayer is also a creative process in which we can become totally immersed. Besides trying to create more relational space for God in our lives, prayer is an attempt to express (not necessarily through words) our search for God and our feelings toward him. We consciously strive to become aware of his presence and to respond to it within us. That is why Amos Ferguson could say: "I paint not by sight, but by faith. Faith gives you sight."

We may have learned many useful prayer techniques, but in and of themselves they do not make us more prayerful anymore than techniques make us artists. Rather, what counts more for both is our attitude of mind, our vision and the process itself--whether painting or praying. Painting can reveal a lot about ourselves that we cannot discover through reasoning alone.

Just as painting, or any art for that matter, refines our sensibilities and heightens our sensual awareness, so too prayer involves our senses, our emotions, our wonder and imagination. And it is expressed not just in words but in signs and gestures as well. It can put us in touch with ourselves and the beauty of God's creation.

As I learned from experience, the problem with painting is not learning techniques, however helpful these may be, but with seeing, really "seeing"-- not just looking, but seeing things in a different way, seeing with the right side (the intuitive side) of the brain instead of the left side (the analytical side).

Until I started painting I don't think I ever viewed reality in this way at all. It is not enough to focus only on what is in front of one's eyes, but what is in the imagination. One needs to see both positive as well as negative space and be more concerned with an overall view rather than specific details. That is why the advice for the beginner is to use a "big" brush and broad strokes before even thinking of doing detail work with a rigger brush.

According to Maurice Grosser in The Painter's Eye, "The painter draws with his eyes, not his hands. Whatever he sees, if he sees it clear, he can put down." Frederick Franck expresses the same idea when he talks about drawing as a discipline by which he constantly rediscovers the world. "It is in order to really see, to see ever deeper, ever more intensely, hence to be fully aware and alive," he tells us, " that I draw what the Chinese call 'The Ten Thousand Things' around me... I have learned that what I have not drawn, I have never really seen, and that when I start drawing an ordinary thing, I realize how extraordinary it is, sheer miracle."

Art tends to show not only what we are trying to portray but also to reveal ourselves. Paradoxically, the more clearly we can perceive and draw or paint what we see in the external world, the more clearly the viewer can see us, and the more we come to know ourselves. Prayer not only reveals God to us but ourselves as well.

Before painting one needs to prepare oneself, to get in the right frame of mind. This means not only readying materials such as paints, brushes and paper or canvas, but also readying oneself and focusing on what one intends to put on paper. Of course, a person can stare at the white canvas or paper all day and not see any picture emerge. One has to take the plunge as it were and start somewhere by making that first stroke of the brush. One needs to "see" what one wishes to paint and then boldly enter into the process.

The same is true of prayer and no one has expressed it better than St. Ignatius of Loyola in his Spiritual Exercises "...before entering on prayer," he writes, "let the mind repose a little... and I will think whither I am going and for what purpose." If we are to meditate or contemplate on visible matters, such as some event in our Lord's life, then St. Ignatius suggests a "composition of place"-- seeing with the eyes of the imagination the physical place where the thing I wish to contemplate is found. We are asked to put ourselves at the scene of the subject matter of our meditation and try to visualize everything around us as well as all the persons involved.

Most artists, when they face the blank canvas, have at least some idea of what they intend to paint. They can visualize it already there. So too we cannot come to prayer in a vacuum without some focus--a passage from scripture, a word, an idea--to get us started. We need to prepare ourselves, to dispose ourselves for prayer in much the same way as the painter prepares to paint. Without some preparation our mind tends to wander and we lose concentration and focus very quickly.

Artists like Klee and Miro urge us to paint like little children, not to be concerned about the end product but to be wrapped up in the process itself, in the act of creating. Perhaps this is also what Jesus had in mind when he told his disciples that unless they became as little children they would not enter the kingdom of God. To watch a child at play is to learn a great deal about prayer.

Through painting I have learned to be more observant of nature and am more awestruck by colorful clouds or a glowing sunset. I began to notice hues and tones and color values where before they all seemed to blend into a dull gray. The more I turned to the wonders of nature and the changing seasons and tried to capture their beauty with a landscape painting, the more I realized the grandeur of God's creation. It led me to offer praise and thanksgiving and enriched my prayer life in indescribable ways. Just as painting seeks nothing for itself, so praise and adoration seek nothing for themselves except to recognize God as God.

Painting, especially with watercolors, has taught me many lessons that can be applied to my prayer life. One of the most important perhaps is patience! Once you have laid down a wash, it is not wise to rush ahead until the color has had a chance to dry. I have muddied many a painting by trying to "finish" it before its time. The water colorist needs to let the color and paper do their work too, as we need to let the Spirit guide us in prayer. Just as there is a temptation in painting to overwork one area or to underdevelop another, so too in prayer we have a tendency to follow every whim or distraction that takes us away from the act of praying itself.

Each of us is an artist when we pray, for each work of art expresses outwardly the artist's personal understanding of the world. Our prayer as individuals is unique too. We bring to it our own special gifts and talents and take from it what is most helpful to our spiritual lives. Just as the creative act is many-sided, so too is our experience of God. It takes many different shapes and forms and varies with every stage and circumstance of our lives. Every painting, every prayer, is a new experience and deepens our understanding of self and God.

Prayer and painting, then, have a lot in common and both demand a lot of practice. No matter how artistic we may be, we cannot become paint-ers or pray-ers simply by reading books (or articles like this) on the subject. We learn to paint by painting and we learn prayer by praying.

Vigilance is also important to both painting and prayer. Just as the water colorist needs to be alert for those precious moments when the paper is just the right wetness or dryness, or a "backrun" has gone far enough, so in prayer we need to watch and be ready to listen when God speaks and open to the guidance of the Spirit.

There are many times, of course, when the artist is not inspired, long periods when nothing seems to be happening or going right. The same is true of prayer time also. We experience periods of dryness, we have no taste for God and our prayer seems to be nothing but one big distraction. At such times we need to persevere; we need to have faith and trust that things will change, that we will be inspired once again as we were in the past. We simply need to keep trying, keep practicing.

When all goes well, painting can be totally absorbing. This is also the best of prayer, when time seems to stand still as we are wrapped up in God's presence and do not want to leave as Peter, James and John on top of Mount Tabor.

Through painting I have learned that prayer is also a creative happening. We come to prayer much like the artist facing a blank canvas or a block of clay or marble. We must make something of nothing. With inspiration and a little courage, not only will something happen, but we will be changed in the process.

Well, time to get on with my painting again, or should I say praying, because now for me to paint is to pray and to pray is to paint! If you don't paint or draw, I suggest you try it and see for yourself.