Drawing on Yourself: Demonstrate Your Infinite Possibility by Using Art to Examine, Enrich, and Expand Your Environment.

DRAWING

On Yourself

Demonstrate your infinite possibility by using art

to examine, enrich, and expand your environment.

LYNN TOULOUPIS

Copyright © 2018 Lynn Touloupis.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

The Holy Bible, Revised Standard Version, Thomas Nelson & Sons, New York (1952)

Balboa Press

A Division of Hay House

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.balboapress.com

1 (877) 407-4847

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

The author of this book does not dispense medical advice or prescribe the use of any technique as a form of treatment for physical, emotional, or medical problems without the advice of a physician, either directly or indirectly. The intent of the author is only to offer information of a general nature to help you in your quest for emotional and spiritual well-being. In the event you use any of the information in this book for yourself, which is your constitutional right, the author and the publisher assume no responsibility for your actions.

Author photo by Mary Ann Martino.

All other photographs by E. Richard Porter.

ISBN: 978-1-5043-9697-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5043-9698-1 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-9822-0131-9 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2018908758

Balboa Press rev. date: 07/23/2018

THE CONTENTS

Every step you take begins with a thought and ends with a picture.

Opportunity

• Ima Thinking • The Covered Bridge • Potential • Surfing the Net

Lesson #1: The Warm-up

• Ima Thinking • Comfort Zones • Scarrrred for Life • Do or Do Over? • Paper Hang-ups • Clean Your Plate

Lesson #2: Basic Materials

• Ima Thinking • Walter and The Law • Scare City • Butt Brain • Denial

• Lesson #3: Shapes & Forms

• Ima Thinking • Calendar Girl • Inside the Circle • It’s Personal • A Button Tin World • The Name Game

Lesson #4: Texture

• Ima Thinking • Pack Rats • Annie and Will • Going to TLC • Tea and Cookies

Lesson #5: Shadows

• Ima Thinking • Not Hormones! • Who’s in Charge Here ? • A Good Day for WHAT ? ! Ike’s Story • Ima’s Rant • Just Some Facts

Lesson #6: Perspective

• Ima Thinking • The Truth about a Kiwi • The Storm • Negative Space

• Breaking Clay Pots • Gesso Time

• Lesson #7: Composition

• Ima Thinking • Living is an Art • Making Dinner • Ima Doofus • Symposium Recap

Home

• Ima Thinking • Crossing the Bridge • And They Lived…

THE APPENDIX a special booklet by Ima and Lisa

THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED TO

YOU!

Sprinkled within the stories of

the characters in this book

are techniques you can use to discover more of your talents

and enrich your life.

WITH GRATITUDE

I don’t believe anyone can write a book alone. Sure, it was me up at three in the morning, fingers flying over the keyboard as words came into my mind from—well, you know, somewhere... Once the words were in the computer, my contribution was essentially finished. That could have been the end of it. Except this book didn’t want to be stored away and forgotten.

I started out writing a short story for my wonderful sister Sally*, who first suggested I write a book. The heart of this book really began many years earlier with Dennis Shears (known by many simply as The Doll), who introduced me to a pathway of Love and Light. Along that pathway I had the honor of meeting Rev. David Barrett, spiritual teacher/mentor. Two of his lessons inspired the chapters Inside the Circle and A Button Tin World.

Near the end of the process, I was blessed with friends coming forward to lend their unique expertise. Anita Madden-Keith was the initial proof-reader/hand-holder. Her faith kept me going through the beginning stages of authorism² . Susan Holliday contributed time, eyes, and brain because one can never put all one’s trust in the automatic spell checker. E. Richard Porter and his genius with a camera contributed inspiration in the form of a fun photo shoot at a real covered bridge.

A very special Thank You to Jeannette Fredrickson, who added the perfect final editing touches, and helped put it all together.

Finally, a big word of thanks to the people at Balboa Press for their infinite patience, guidance, and encouragement.

THANK YOU.

OPPORTUNITY

IMA THINKING

What a rude awakening! As I think about it now, I can remember the October morning many years ago, in another lifetime it seems, when I experienced that mental turmoil that started everything.

I woke up that morning feeling something was terribly wrong. I remember deciding to lie still in bed a moment to get my thoughts together. I was certain that I could talk myself out of the anxiety I felt, and would then begin to feel normal again. I had my eyes closed. I can re-create it in my mind right now exactly as it was then. I remember talking to myself:

No, no, this is not working. I’m going to have to open my eyes and get out of bed. Rah, rah! Go, Ima! You can do it. Face another day!

           But I’m sooooo tired.

                       You’re not tired, Ima.

                                   You’re bored!

That’s right. Once I see the sunshine, everything will be all right. I can do this. I’ll take it slowly. Right eye easing open. Now left. Peek through the little slits. Focus on something.

Wait a minute! Look around this room! Oh, my! Can this be true? Look at the ancient stuff in this room! Ruffled skirt on the dressing table, heavy oak dresser, medieval heavy brocade drapery. That’s it!

I’m in the Middle Ages!

And look at Ike! How can he sleep so peacefully? Does he know what’s happening? Where did those wrinkles around his eyes come from? Do I have that many white hairs? How could this happen to us? We are getting (shudder) O L D.

Middle Ages, huh? Well, I always did think of Ike as my knight-in-shining-armor. He galloped into my life on that white motorcycle and rescued me from my father’s tower. Then while he was off slaying dragons every day, I … I … What exactly did I do? I must have done something in all these years. What can I say about my life?

I’ve lived with Ike for most it. He is a common-sense sort of guy and an excellent provider. Our little castle no longer has a mortgage. I have never been without anything I wanted. And he was an excellent father. Yes, he really worked hard for many years to provide for us. He has had quite a life. Close to retirement now, I guess he plans to spend the rest of his days fishing or sitting on the porch waiting for the sun to set. He does enjoy that sunset.

But what about me? What have I done? Raised the kids, sure, and took care of the house. But what am I to do now? Well, today I guess I’d better dust off the pumpkin stuff. Has my life become just one big trick or treat? Is that why I feel so… so… what? Useless? No, that’s not right. It is more like—I don’t know. I just don’t seem to feel needed anymore. It’s like I have no sense of purpose. Why am I here?

What is life all about? Grow up. Get married. Have children. I did all that. Doesn’t that just sound like a fairy tale now?

Things are pretty quiet around the old castle ever since the kids moved out. I’ve become middle aged and frumpy. Ike is becoming old and grumpy. Where’s the happily-ever-after part? There must be something more, something else, something I might be missing, or worse, something I’m supposed to do and I don’t even know what it is. I don’t know. Maybe I am just bored.

THE COVERED BRIDGE

As Ike left for work, Ima stepped outside onto the porch to watch him drive off, and planned to gather some leaves for an autumn table decoration. Her eyes followed his pickup truck down the drive to the main road. Breathing deeply of the crisp October air, she admired the early morning landscape. Because their home sat at a slight elevation and there were no trees blocking the view, she believed she could see for miles. This wonderful view was one of the reasons they elected to move out of the city to the rolling hills and peace of the countryside. Not far from the house the main road followed a small river to the next town fifty miles away. To her right, a side road split off and crossed the river through an old covered bridge. Her eyes followed the narrow road for only a short distance beyond the bridge where it disappeared behind another hill.

Bundled up in her puffy coat, scarf, and knit hat, and still feeling the malaise she experienced upon waking, she went over to the front porch swing and sat down. Her mind was moving a bit slower than usual, perhaps because she was in a reflective mood. She remembered how, not long after they moved in, she tried to get Ike to take her for a drive across the bridge. As she sat in the cool, crisp early morning light, the conversation about crossing the bridge came flooding back from her memory as if it took place yesterday and not thirty-plus years ago.

Don’t be silly, he replied. We have no business going over there.

It’s an adventure, Ike, she cajoled. She liked adventure. Let’s just go into the unknown and see what happens?

No. He was adamant. There’s nothing over there that concerns us. Besides, I don’t want to waste gas just aimlessly driving around.

She thought seriously about getting in the car herself and driving across just to see where she ended up. Ike cautioned against this radical action with his usual logic by pointing out that once she knew, she would know. No more intrigue.

Oh, Ike, she whined, disappointed; however, she had to agree that he had a good case against her adventure idea. Shifting gears, she told him, You are always so practical, and so the mystery was deliciously preserved.

It’s that practicality that bought this house and it’s that practicality that allows you to sit at home dreaming up these wild schemes instead of working to help pay the bills, he retorted.

She couldn’t argue with that, so she gave up her adventure of crossing the bridge with or without him. After a few years she actually forgot all about wanting to see what was on the other side. She eventually was able to sit and enjoy looking at it as if it were a picture framed and hanging on the wall.

A sudden breeze washed a purifying peacefulness over her body, removing some of the restlessness she had been feeling. She took another deep breath feeling the fresh air fill her lungs. As she slowly exhaled, her mind relaxed and she continued her reverie. This time her thoughts were of gratitude.

Ike was a good provider, a practical provider. He could actually be good company sometimes. He was a gentleman. No, he was a gentle man. That’s better. He was a gentle man. She was glad she married him and thankful for the years they had been together.

She thought about how quickly her babies grew up. It seemed like Will and Sally became adults overnight and moved away. She knew it was for the better, at least that’s what she told herself to take away the pain of loneliness without them underfoot all the time. She told herself she had done an excellent job of raising them to be healthy, happy, independent people, but that thought rarely did much to alleviate the emptiness of no longer being needed.

Will was now married to Annie, a lovely girl who… Well, she still really knew nothing about Annie or her family. How many years had they been married now? Ten? She seemed a good mother to the kids; her GRANDchildren, but she really didn’t know. It seemed she should see them all more often, but with Will’s job and Annie’s whatever, they were very busy people.

Her daughter Sally kept in touch and visited often. No longer married, she seemed very happy in her new career and new apartment. At least it was much quieter than that last place with those dogs that barked all night long and—oh, why go there again? They weren’t Sally’s dogs.

Then she thought about Little Ike, her last baby. Just as he was entering this world, he left it. It all happened so quickly. She felt a very deep sadness and longing still after all these years. She began to rock back and forth, her hands gently caressing her tummy where he had lived as if she could bring him back.

A brilliant cardinal perched on the matching red barn bird feeder and began his chirp-chirping, calling Ima back to the current moment. As her thoughts returned to this world, this present, she marveled at why and how things happen, and what everybody’s part is in this thing we call life. She tried to think specifically about what her part was. She thought a lot, she thought. It seemed her mind was always thinking. She even thought about Ike’s part, certain that it must be more than just providing a home and security for her. And she thought about why Ike never seemed to think about things.

POTENTIAL

Ima always has a serious, logical answer for everything no matter how ridiculous Ike thinks the question is. Sometimes Ike comes up with silly questions just to set her off on a tangent.

That evening he came in from the mailbox with his hands full of letters and his mind full of mischief. Why do banks charge a fee for insufficient funds when they know there is no money in the account? he asked Ima.

We have insufficient funds? Ima had terror in her voice and her heart. Her mind instantly whirled, creating all sorts of purely imaginary assumptions of disaster.

No, Goofy, he explained. It’s a joke.

It’s not funny! She glared at him. You really scared me, Ike. I thought something happened to our money.

Think about it, Ima, he went on, there’s no money in the account so banks charge a fee. Isn’t that like trying to squeeze blood from a turnip?

Oh, I see the joke; and you’re still not funny, she said seriously. I also see an opportunity to talk about potential.

"I forgot to consider the potential I’d get a lecture if I tried to tell a simple joke, Ike smiled. Ike occasionally enjoys listening to Ima spout off on subjects he wouldn’t give a second thought to. Go ahead," he urged.

Banks believe in your potential to have a positive balance. Banks know you have the capability to acquire money and put it in the bank because you have done so in the past. You have a proven track record. You may be in a slump right now. Life is ups and downs. However, you can repeat something you’ve done in the past, and you can build on it and make it better. Banks know that and they want a piece. Banks believe in you the same way that your grandmother does.

The only difference is that Grandma doesn’t charge late fees, overdraft fees, or interest, said Ike.

We all have potential at every moment of the day, Ima continued while ignoring his remark as she was getting involved in the subject. Yes, every moment of the day provides potential. Did you know that? When we are born, we are pure potential. Nothing has happened yet to dampen our spirits or give us any idea that we are limited. Remember watching our children learning to walk? They had no concept of failure. No matter how many times they landed on their diapers, they pulled themselves up and tried again. They were exercising their arms, legs, and potential. They didn’t sit down and whine this is too hard. I’m not going to do it." They continued until they succeeded. Soon their baby steps became strides and they were running, skipping, and knowing that if they jumped high enough, they could touch the clouds." Ike nodded in agreement remembering back to those days. It never occurred to the little ones that they could fail; they knew they were invincible.

The peculiar thing is that as adults we forget that we are made of unlimited potential. We forget that we can do things we’ve never done before. We forget how to take baby steps until we practice, practice, practice, and eventually learn to stride. Then Ima thought to herself, Is that what I’ve done? Have I forgotten my potential?

So what does that have to do with us? Ike’s voice brought her back to the conversation. I don’t need to practice and learn new things. Stride? Ha! he guffawed.

"What about your job? There never was a reason for you to stay in that job you say you hate. Your reason that it is all you know how to do just doesn’t hold water. You could go do it somewhere else. It is all you want to do. You have never really wanted to do anything else or be anywhere else or you would have made the change."

Not really surprised that the discussion turned into an attack on him, Ike replied, Humbug. I should have known not to try to tell you a joke.

Ima, not affected by his lack of enthusiasm, continued, "It’s a sad thing that when people are all grown up, they stop testing, stop learning, and stop thinking. Why do people lose sight of their potential and remember only the things they were told in the first few years when it was necessary for their protection? Be very careful. Don’t touch that. You can’t do that. People take those warnings from when they were two-year-olds and apply the same phrases to their life as adults."

Not always, Ike said defensively.

"Or they take the way of least resistance—the easy way. They become afraid. They close their minds. They settle into the comfort zone that was good enough for their mothers or fathers because we’ve always done it this way. She paused to look at Ike. Why is that, Ike? Why?"

Ike shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. He was sorry he got her started on this one. It was sure to end up with her nagging him about watching TV. Hey, speaking of TV, he eased toward the door to the living room.

My point is, Ima went on a bit louder to keep his attention, "as adults, we can still decide to learn, to change, to use our potential, and it may not be a bad thing. We can learn to play bridge. We can learn another language. We can expand our horizons. We can re-think many aspects of our life. She really emphasized the word can hoping to break through Ike’s resistance to change and also to eliminate her uneasiness with her life at present. We can also stop limiting our thoughts about our abilities. The banks see that potential. Your grandma believes in you and your potential. Isn’t it time you believed in you?"

Not receiving an immediate answer, she continued, "We can stop believing limiting adages such as that’s just the way it is, that’s life, and you are who you are. Of course we are who we are. If we weren’t, we’d be someone else!"

Yep, Ike agreed, still easing toward the door.

But who are we? Who are we, Ike? She wasn’t letting him go until she made her point. We, each one of us, are greater than we know. We can do so much more than we realize. We are pure potential! With that affirmation, Ima knew she was going to embark on a new adventure. Middle Ages? Humbug! She was going to enter a new age with a passion fueled by potential.

SURFING THE NET

Ike likes to sleep late on weekend mornings. By the time he woke up Saturday morning, Ima had already cooked and eaten breakfast, solved the newspaper crossword puzzle, and was settled down at her computer. Because she felt that her life might be becoming tedious, she decided to surf the Internet for things she and Ike could do together. It seemed they no longer had anything in common. Lately they hardly spoke to each other, and when they did, it was more of a snap or bark than actual conversation.

Ima knew it was going to be a challenge finding something to bring them together again. Ike only seemed interested in TV. Good wife that she was, she occasionally tried to sit with him doing her knitting while the screen flashed before them. The actors went about portraying their versions of daily events. After a few scenes, she usually comments to Ike about how ethics and morality have degenerated over the years. He grunts or ignores her comment. She says it is because violence and dysfunctional families are not only condoned on TV, but made to look like the standard that people should emulate, so no wonder people think nothing of hurting each other.

These TV moments always end the same way. He turns up the volume, and she leaves the room. She realizes why they call that little device permanently attached to Ike’s hand a REMOTE. It has made her opportunities for interaction and communication with him very remote. Ima smiled at her play on words and was brought back to the present moment as Ike entered the kitchen.

Good morning, dear, she said cheerfully. I’ve been looking for something we can do together.

Eat breakfast? he suggested.

Goodness, no! I ate hours ago. Listen to this. I think I’ve found it, she said, pausing just a second to make sure she had his attention. Let’s take drawing lessons! I’ve always been rather interested in the arts. And the other day you were doodling. You may have a bit of the artist in you.

Harrumph. He sat at his place at the table. It was the same place he occupied since they bought the house and the table. The doodle incident had occurred while circling ads for a riding lawn mower. Without realizing it, he was making little designs in the margins.

Please think about taking an art class with me. You show a real aptitude. Besides, with the kids gone, we need something to do to get us back together as a couple.

Couple of what? Ike grumbled, thinking he may be getting off easy. The last time she decided they were culturally challenged, she wanted season tickets to the opera. He still doesn’t know why she got all bent out of shape when he told her the only season tickets he was paying for better include the three B’s: beer, bleachers, and some kind of ball.

Have you ever heard of Jon Gnagy? she asked. "Listen to this from his website.³ It seems he was the first performer on the first show the day the antenna was completed on top of the Empire State Building in New York City. That was on May 13, 1946. What about that?"

I wasn’t watching TV in 1946, Ike grumped. Realizing she is not getting up to serve him breakfast, he finally got up and wandered to the cabinet for his favorite coffee mug.

Well, you’ve certainly made up for it since then! she laughed. Undaunted, Ima continues reading the website and paraphrases the highlights for Ike. He was on a variety show. The program reached about 200 homes in an area spanning 80 miles. Isn’t that a hoot?

Yeah, a real hoot. So what? He poured himself a mug