The Eye of the Beholder

” The eye of the beholder
reveals many mysteries
Like mirrors of infinity,
the layers of perception appear endless.”

~ Kim McElroy

A friend of mine once told me that every painting I made was created for someone.  This was a very profound statement, for sometimes I would create a painting and despair when I find a home for it until years later.  Other times, I would find someone to love the piece in a very brief time.  One thing I have discovered;  it is always a process of being in the right place at the right time.  Sometimes, it is a more mysterious process of connection than I expect.   When an inspiration comes to me,  I decide to follow through on the idea, I am unaware of the unseen forces that seem to move the person it was created for toward my circle of influence.

Horses’ eyes are incredibly deep, expressive, and reflective.  Their eyes are the one of the largest in the entire animal kingdom.  If eyes are like windows to the soul, they are also like mirrors that reflect what they see.  Often, when I’ve looked in my own horse’s eyes, I have seen a vision of myself, or a reflection of the sky, or the land which we call home.  Seeing these reflections in her eyes add meaning to the moment, for they give me a perspective of the moment and its meaning.

At the beginning of my career in 1987 I created a painting called The Eye of the Beholder, in which one horse is reflected in another horse’s eye.  When I created the painting, I was so focused on the dynamic of creating the illusion of two horses looking at each other, I didn’t realize until later that both horses were also looking at me.

Vision

“Nothing in the world is single:
All things by law divine,
In one spirit meet and mingle
Why not I with thine?”

~ Percy Bysshe Shelley

I revisited this concept years later, only this time I wanted to paint a woman reflected in a horse’s eye.  When I conceived of the piece,  I wanted the viewer to identify with the woman, so I created a woman in a pose that was thoughtful and introspective.  Her eyes were downcast, giving an introspective aire to her mood.  I chose a horse’s eye that was kind and soulful, with the bridge of the nose visible against the sky to give the impression of depth.. I decided to make the sky a cloudy gray to enhance the somber mood.

As I worked on the pastel, I had some difficulty in making the woman look like she was reflected in the eye, which involves some distortion, while still making the eye three dimensional.  I had almost completed the piece when, as an attempt to rearrange the composition to focus more on the eye, I decided to crop the left hand side of the painting.  I carefully covered the area to be removed with a sheet of paper to make sure it was the right idea.  It seemed to help the composition so I cut into the painting, sliced four inches off of the image, removed the excess, and my heart sank.  It was suddenly all wrong, how could I have made such an error in judgment?  The painting was ruined.

As I sat in this depressed state my friend, Susan walked into the room.  When she asked how things were, I said, “Awful,  I just ruined my painting!”  She walked over to my drawing table to look at it.  I held the two pieces together, and then apart, and explained why I had cropped it.  She pondered for a moment and said she hoped I could fix it.  Then she commented that the woman looked Native American.  “Really?” I replied.  “That’s interesting, because the model is an Asian woman.”  She suggested that I put some feathers in the woman’s hair to emphasize the connection.  Suddenly an idea struck me. “Better yet,” I said, “I’ll put the feather in the horse’s forelock!  But somehow I had to get this piece glued back together!”

I took the painting to my framers, who painstakingly mounted the pieces of the painting as close together as possible.  This still left a small crack, which I tried to fill with matching pastel chalk.  It was fairly effective, but I could still see the crack.

When I was confident that the piece could be recovered, I began thinking about the type of feather to draw.  I wanted to emphasize the Native American feeling, and when I looked around my studio my eyes landed on a wall hanging made with owl feathers.  This handmade sculpture had been given to me by a woman at one of my art shows.  She had collected my greeting cards for years, and when she found out I was the artist she was almost speechless.  She told me that of all the artists she had ever seen, my work touched her the most.

The next day she had returned, this time with a beautiful poem written on suede mounted with owl feathers.  She explained that the feathers came from a barn owl that had lived on her property for years.  Sadly, a neighbor had killed the owl.  She had saved the feathers to remind her of her wild friend, and she now chose to give them to me in a gesture of goodwill.  I had been incredibly touched by her willingness to pass along a precious talisman that meant so much to her.  Now, years later, her gift was to become a part of my painting.

The owl feather and forelock were exactly what I needed to bring the painting to completion, but I still wasn’t satisfied with the visibility of the crack.  I decided to camouflage it with the addition of feathers and a horsehair forelock.  My friend, Dallas, a horsehair braider, provided the humanely gathered horsehair, and my picture framers artfully worked the hair into the mat to give the illusion of a three-dimensional forelock.  The whole effect was quite striking, and I began to feel that the piece was better with these additions than it would ever have been.  Also, in this way the crack was well hidden.

I told my framer how the piece had evolved.  He was concerned about my inclusion of the owl feather and the interpretation of the meaning of an owl in Native American tradition.  He said he had once painted an owl on a drum, and a Native American man told him that it was a bad omen, that in their traditions an owl represented a symbol of death and transformation.  I loved Native American traditions and wanted to be in harmony with them.  I decided the inspiration must have come to me for a reason.    I named the painting, Vision.

I displayed the painting at my booth at a horse show a few weeks later.  The first day, a woman came up to my display and stood for a long time in front of Vision.  After awhile I approached her, and said this was the first time I had shown the painting.  She seemed lost in thought.  After a moment she commented how beautiful it was and said the theme had a very personal meaning for her.  She didn’t elaborate, but quietly walked away.

Later that afternoon, she returned to my display, walked up to my table, and said, “How much is that painting?  I’d like to buy it.”  She took me by surprise, for usually I talk with people for some time before they decide to buy an original.  So in an attempt to get to know her and why she liked my painting, I made conversation.  I told her how that the creation of this painting had been an incredible journey.  I told her the feather was of an owl, and that I had been told that some might think this an unwelcome omen.  She looked at the painting, and said quietly, “Then this has even more meaning for me than I realized, for my son died three months ago, and I felt like he was speaking to me through this painting.  He and his father were Native American.  Though I am not of their heritage, I share their beliefs, and the owl is a meaningful symbol.”

I was deeply touched by her insights, and by her willingness to share them with me.  Now I knew why I’d had the inspiration to include the owl, and also why the woman in the painting looked like she was sad. All of the elements had come together for a reason.

In the midst of that reverential moment, she had started to make out the check, when all of a sudden my reverie came to a screeching halt.  I hadn’t told her about the crack!  This painting had a flaw, and I’d better make sure she knew about it before she bought it.  I was sorry to break the mood, but I told her I must show her something concerning the painting.  We walked back over to Vision and I told her about the crack, and how it had come about.  I went to great lengths to explain that I honestly felt that if it hadn’t been for cropping the piece I would never have come up with the idea for the feather.  I was so concerned that she would think the painting imperfect, that I didn’t notice the slight smile forming on her lips.  At last she said in a knowing voice, “I know why you did that.”  Confused, I responded, “You do?”  “Yes,“ she replied.  “When Native Americans create a work of art, they always insert a flaw into the piece, for only the Creator can make something perfect.”  I stood totally speechless.  In that moment all of my path in creating Vision was became prophetic – for here, standing with me, was the one person in all the world whom I had created it for.

“Unicorn of the Sky”

“When the last moon is cast, over the last star of morning
and the future is past, without even a last desperate warning…
Look into the sky where through the clouds a path is formed
Look and see, how she shimmers, it’s the last Unicorn.”

~ Lyrics from the song “The Last Unicorn” by Jimmy Web

I have painted unicorns as long as I have painted horses. They filled my childhood notebooks and galloped across my homework. I never stopped to examine why I loved unicorns. I just did.

The unicorn is a creature that has existed in the minds and imaginations of the known world since before the beginning of written history. Historians and philosophers have struggled to explain the hold that the unicorn has on our imaginations. But like many legends such as the Sasquatch, and Loch Ness, their eternal mystery continues regardless of proof.

At some of the horse shows I exhibited my work at I would often meet horse people who scoffed at my unicorn paintings. They relegated the magic of unicorns to a fad or childhood fantasy. Some even commented that my paintings of unicorns would be better if they didn’t have horns. Years ago, I actually believed them. I removed the horns from two of my pieces in an attempt to sell them more effectively to the audience I thought I was trying to reach.

I later realized that instead of trying to reach the wrong audience, I should just create what inspires me and the people who felt drawn to those pieces would be the same people who felt the way I do. I felt that the same people who see unicorns as magic and wise, will often also perceive of horses as magic and wise. In me, love of unicorns and horses is the same thing; for unicorns are symbolic of the magical, elusive horses that are unrestrained by human bonds. Their realm lies beyond our conscious recognition, but they live on in the dreams and artwork that celebrates their enduring gifts.

I once had a dream of seeing a unicorn fossil in a museum. Inside a glass display case was a skull that resembled a horse, but on the forehead were the unmistakable outlines of where a horn had grown, though the horn itself was absent. The area glowed with a luminous iridescence. My heart leapt with joy to see a confirmation of my belief that unicorns existed. I wanted to shout to the disinterested spectators, “Do you see? Now, do you believe?”

“Believe”

“How can it be?” The unicorn wondered.  “I suppose I could understand it if men had simply forgotten unicorns.  But not to see them at all, to look at them and see something else ~ what do they look like to one another, then?
What do trees look like to them, or houses,
or real horses, or their own children?”

~  Peter S. Beagle

The idea for painting Believe came to me soon after while I was watching a video of running horses. The horses had unusual bridles, which crossed at the forehead. When they ran toward the camera, my attention to was drawn to their foreheads, reminding me of a charging unicorn. I hadn’t painted a unicorn for years. Perhaps it was time.

I found a photo I had taken years before of a beautiful white stallion named Calyndar. I would create him as a unicorn. When I began the painting, I had the impulse to create the background in the colors and shapes of a circular aura. I planned on creating the horn last, so the colors seemed appropriate to the magical nature of the theme. When I was close to completing the face, I began to realize that the horn itself was irrelevant. I remembered the theme from the well-known book and animated movie “The Last Unicorn” by Peter S. Beagle, in which only those who believed in unicorns could see their horn; those who were blinded by life, and who didn’t believe in magic would only see a white horse. In Believe, the horn is on the verge of appearing, depending upon the viewer’s own belief.My mother used to quote something she had read, “Faith is a conscious condition that cannot conceive of its opposite.” One has to have faith to believe in the power of unicorns. Faith is often needed for us to follow our dreams..

At an art show I met a woman who worked in artist relations for a well known collectibles company. She commented on my painting of Believe. I told her about my dream, and of my insights about why I did not complete the horn. Though I had told the story of the meaning of Believe to many people at my art exhibits, only a select few had understood and appreciated the theme of the unicorn. Most people were content with seeing a white horse. But, this woman surprised me by listening to my story and becoming enthusiastic about the perspective it offered of her own interpretations of the piece. We talked for over an hour about unicorns, and art, and human nature. When she departed, she smiled and said mysteriously, “I have something I must send you….”

“Sea Mystic”

“And in the whiteness, of the whiteness, flowering in the tattered water, their bodies arching with the streaked marble hollows of the waves, their manes and tails and the fragile beards of the males burning in the sunlight, their eyes as dark and jeweled as the deep sea ~ and the shining of the horns, the seashell shining of the horns!  The horns came riding in like the rainbow masts of silver ships.”

~ Peter S. Beagle

A few months later I received a package in the mail. Not knowing its contents I opened it with curiosity.. Inside was a card from the woman I had met at the show. I opened the inner package to reveal a replica of a life-sized unicorn horn topped with a wrought metal handle inlaid with amethyst. I stared at the artifact in quiet admiration, remembering my dream. When I opened the companion booklet of the origins of this creation by artist Michael Hague, I read the following:

“Faith… reveals more to the bearer than the necessity of having the Unicorn reveal itself to the skeptic. For, if the presence of the Unicorn exists within the heart, the exercise of proof is obsolete.” ~ Michael Hague

This could have been written for Believe. It said in a few words what I had been trying to say for years. I was deeply touched by the gift, though she could not have known the effect it would have on me, for the fact that she had thought to give it to me represented the enduring goodness of some people. It became a symbol of purity and of friendship. It showed me that my efforts in continuing to shine the light of unicorns into human hearts had reflected back on me in surprising ways.

“The Journey”

“On earth I met him as a white elk.
His mundane domestic captivity
did not diminish him
He shone on the distant hill
as sacred as a unicorn.”

~ Kim McElroy

As if I needed more confirmation of the magic of unicorns and my desire to write about them, I experienced probably the closest thing to a unicorn’s earthly counterpart. I was visiting my friend who lives in the rural hills of Tennessee. One day we drove past a farm that housed a large number of rare deer. She mentioned that it was a private preserve, and that they actually had a white elk. “A white elk!” I exclaimed, “I never knew there were such things!” We agreed to come back the next day.

When we pulled up to the farm and got out of the car many of the elk started vocalizing a strange call with a sound between that of an tropical bird and a calf. It was like a scene out of Jurassic Park. While listening to these unexpected and haunting noises we checked the house, which was unoccupied. Several of the elk in the large enclosure nearest the house started moving toward the fence, hoping for food. It was then that I spotted the white elk. He stood regally at a distance on a steep, grassy hillside. I moved toward the fence to see him more clearly. After determining that I wasn’t a threat, he made his way slowly towards me. His body and carriage made him seem old and cautious, but he boldly walked directly up to the fence to greet me. Unlike the other elk that had licked my hands expecting food and then departed, this one merely sniffed my hand in greeting and remained, watching me.
His movements and attitude were so like a horse that I found myself wanting to relate to him at the same emotional level. Here wasn’t some distant and skittish wild creature, but an animal that was familiar with humans. He was willing to relate with me regardless of the fact that I had no food. I admired his elegant horns, so strong. I gazed into his luminous, slate blue eyes, so close. He was rare and beautiful and lovely and sad. I stared through the fence, knowing that it was his protection as well as his nemesis. I knew that if unicorns existed in today’s world, they would probably be behind bars too.

But when I looked through my camera lens, the fence disappeared, and I could look deeply into his wise and luminous blue eyes. I was transported out of the mundane human world, and for a few miraculous moments I saw him as a unicorn – for this wise and beautiful white elk had the same mystery, the same benevolence, and the same melancholy aire of that legendary creature.

“Norwegian Woods”

“The branches of the trees bend under the weight of ice and snow,
forming mysterious shapes enveloped in cold, furry frost.
Dawn’s rays alight on a snowdrift mounded in the shape  of a sleeping unicorn;
the light warms her new limbs, as she awakens and comes to life.”

~ Kim McElroy

Whether or not one believes in unicorns, we can appreciate their symbolic qualities of purity and goodness, and vulnerability in the midst of strength. In this fast paced world, it is nice to hold on to a little timeless magic.  ~ Kim McElroy

“The Unicorn was a creature of love and compassion. As in today’s world,
the never-ending search for those virtues ended in the destruction of the very object of that search. The Unicorn now lives only in the hearts of those who yearn to know that love and compassion which has become so rare.”

~ Bill (Vern) Pittman

Hello ~
”Sweet Dreams” is a portrait I just completed for my client Jen from a childhood photograph depicting her with her childhood pony.  The photograph was so filled with love and innocence and peace, that I could feel it rippling through time to touch my heart even 50 years later.  I knew her painting would be beautiful, but the adventure of receiving the insights that led to her portrait, was a journey in and of itself.

The circle of our love
Ripples outward through time and space
This is where we intersect…
Where we can always touch.

In the reflections at the water’s edge
The light of the moon can illuminate our dreams
And remind us of the magic that is there waiting
Behind our closed eyes…

"Sweet Dreams" NEW RELEASE by Kim McElroy

Sweet Dreams Insights

In thinking of the word insight I looked up the definition.  It means a penetrating understanding and the ability to perceive clearly or deeply the inner nature of things.  My inner world that is expressed through my artwork and writing has always been the way in which I receive insights.  In this case the insight of “Sweet Dreams” is something that came to me in a meditation with the pony’s spirit which you can read more about on my website here>>

A few years ago I ran across a quote I thought was so fantastic in explaining the drive to create or write about what we want to understand.”

“First, I do not sit down at my desk to put into verse something that is already clear in my mind. If it were clear in my mind, I should have no incentive or need to write about it. We do not write in order to be understood; we write in order to understand.”
~ Robert Cecil Day-Lewis ~

In my experiences as an artist I have come to understand that when we seek and receive insight, we have the potential of connecting on a deep level with all of life, in that place where there is no separation.  It is in the place where there is only, connection.

In parting this week I’d like to share another favorite quote from the book “Enduring Traditions ~ The Art of the Navajo”
“It is the medicine men who are true artists.  They must question and interpret.  They must journey back within themselves.  Artists are just doing what medicine men do.”
~  Jo Ben Jr.