She shows herself to me, 
infinite spaciousness,
spread out like a vast horizon.
The line, unwavering and still,
stretches,
stretches out,
yet no sense of
becoming un-grounded
by the expansion,
only more stability
as the line gets longer,
stretching infinitely.

She shows me a rose
in my heart,
in the most tender of ways
and the profundity of
the great infinite nature,
co-existent with
the most tender of hearts.

The point value
of the tender heart,
and the infinite nature,
all one thing.

And in that,
the fullness
of the heart grows.

The more infinite
and full the heart,
the more tender.

Sweet resting
in the Heart of Being.
 

The first painting I created of Mary Magdalene, Veil of Christ’s Blood, was about the grief and pain of loss.  It felt like the love and grief were both so strong that my heart would burst. I painted this painting on the last night of a retreat. When I sat down to begin, she came through rather fast and furiously.  I expected more of that same intensity of feeling in the heart, but this was a calm yet directed process, full of life.

This painting is about the poignant nature of life - everything being born, living, and dying. That very fact brings such poignancy to our time here on earth.  Deeply engaged in an intimate relationship, as I imagine Mary Magdalene and Jesus had together, whether as husband and wife, or teacher and student, the pain of her loss is unfathomable.

She asked for a Star of David to be in the painting- the triangles symbolizing heaven and earth, male and female, the co-existence of opposites, and of course the Jewish star, honoring her and Jesus' Jewish background. So even though there’s grief in her, this feels like later, where just the pain and the poignant reality of life is where she is resting with her heart tenderized through loss.