The Patchwork Butterfly
Daddy always said to me, “Look with your eyes, not your mouth.”
From a young age, writing has been relatively easy for me. Putting words together on paper has always flowed much better out of me than talking. Around the age of 7, I received top scores in the University Interscholastic League academic competitions for public schools. I went on in following years to compete in writing competitions, always landing in 1st, 2nd, or 3rd place rankings with little to no effort. Give me a prompt, a word, a picture, and I could take it and turn into a narrative with 5 paragraphs, an opening thesis, details, character development, and closing statements that tied it all together. Yep, on paper, I had something to say.
Flip the script and have me do the same thing orally, and I’d buckle every time. I tried poetry reading, speech, debate, and even dabbled a bit with acting, but I’d be too nervous to think straight. My body would go numb, my hands get clammy, and the words just would not come out in any logical order. That type of communication delved over into friendships and relationships as well. At the slightest conflict I could never think of anything to say, until the next day, when all the things I SHOULD have said would come to me way too late. I got used to people having the last word over me, consistently leaving me to feel unheard. Now, let me be clear, this is no pity party I’m having here. I’m sure thousands of people can relate to that sentiment. Shoulda, coulda, woulda said THIS if only I’d have thought of it in the moment…am I right? So frustrating…ugh!
Writing is my first love when it comes to the arts. That first UIL competition empowered me to continue on in language arts, and I’ve done so in one form or fashion throughout my life. I wrote short stories about my friends in junior high, left notes for my family, journaled about situations I was pissed about (then torn them up), and religiously wrote my prayers, rather than vocalize them for many years in my adult life. I even taught Language Arts in public school for a stint. Somewhere along the way, drawing and painting came into play, not as a replacement for my writing, but rather as a companion. Frustrations, worries, accomplishments, conversations with friends and lovers, that I could never seem to articulate metamorphosized themselves into the literary and fine arts as a way for me to release what was pent up inside.
On more than one occasion, images of a young brunette bound by cages or rope would emerge from my sketches in my journals, and I would think my lord if anyone ever found these, they’re gonna put me in a crazy house! One drawing in particular still hangs in my studio of a woman with a big metal plate bolted over her mouth engraved with the word MUTED onto it. It’s a reminder to me to never let anyone take my voice…in spoken OR written word.
The mixed media piece tied to this blog, holds the quote “For every ten big talkers, there is one good listener.” However, I titled the art The Patchwork Butterfly. A close-up look depicts three different women actively listening to a significant other and doing her best to serve his needs. Oh, now don’t go thinking I’m the victim of some patriarchal marriage…no no no. I’m quite well cared for and tended to by my man. This piece is more of a voice for those who haven’t quite found theirs yet. And possibly a nod to the voice-less woman I used to be. It’s for those women still searching for a way to be seen and heard. The butterfly depicted represents the beauty and vibrancy of what it means to have a person in your life who actually listens to what you have to say, with no agenda for rebuttal, no waiting for a moment to blurt in so they can give their two cents. I am extremely fortunate to have both women AND men in my life who value what I have to say and listen without having an angle. I’ve loved and lost many times over before being able to discern who’s listening to argue verses who’s listening because they care.
This piece expresses how grateful I am to finally begin to grasp the concept that generally “BIG TALKERS” don’t always make the best listeners. I believe Jackie Chan said it best with a little humor in the motion picture Rush Hour... “I like to let people talk who like to talk. It lets me find out how full of shit they are."
I’m grateful to my Creator for allowing me the privilege of having a voice through art, and for gracing me with friends and loved ones who are patient enough to still let me stumble through my words vocally until I feel I’ve gotten my point across. Part of being a semi-decent artist is that you are a semi-decent listener. To notice those who go unnoticed and give them a voice as well. It’s taken me a lifetime and then some to discern the folks who genuinely listen because they care, and to whom I feel value my words and feelings. Yep, the ratio of humans we go through of talkers vs listeners can fluctuate and change as life takes you down different paths. The trick is to make out the ones that are “full of shit” from the ones who aren’t. Look with your eyes, not your mouth, for the gentle listeners in your life and create a colorful Patchwork Butterfly of support, and then do the same for them.
James 1:19 – “Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry.”
Matthew 11:15 – “He who has ears to hear, let him hear.”
