June 2025

Sometimes when I’m painting, I lose all sense of time. My hand moves without thinking, and the colors seem to choose themselves. It’s as if something beyond me is guiding the brush—a quiet spiritual whisper that doesn’t need words. In those moments, I’m not just “making art.” I’m remembering something older, deeper… maybe even sacred.

For me, creating is spiritual. It’s not about the finished product or whether anyone else will like it. It’s about being present, open, and willing to be surprised. There’s something about sitting with blank paper or canvas that feels like standing on holy ground. I don’t always know what’s going to come through, but I trust the process. I trust that whatever needs to come out will find its way. We haven’t really talked directly about this, but you might see a connection in this blog post here.

Art has become a quiet companion in my life—a way to hear myself when the world gets too loud. There are days when I sit down to paint and realize I’m holding something heavy that I didn’t even know I was carrying. And somehow, through colors and shapes and gentle movements, it starts to lift. Sometimes it pours out in wild brushstrokes; other times it whispers through a soft wash of color. But always, something shifts.

I’ve come to believe that the creative act is a kind of spiritual dialogue. I may not always know who I’m speaking to—my higher self, my guides, the spark of divine creativity that lives in all of us—but I feel the presence. And when I really let go, when I stop trying to “make something good” and just allows what wants to come through… that’s when the magic happens. That’s when I feel closest to whatever it is that created me.

There’s something sacred about making something with your hands. It reminds us that we’re not just consumers or bystanders—we’re co-creators. Whether you’re painting, knitting, sculpting, doodling in the margins, or even rearranging furniture—there’s power in that act of creation. It says, I am here. I exist. And I have something inside me worth expressing.

I think that’s why art has always been tied to the spiritual, even in ancient cultures. People made cave paintings, wove symbols into cloth, carved their stories into stone. Not because they were trying to sell something or become famous—but because something inside them said, Speak. Sing. Create. And they listened.

So if you’ve ever felt that quiet tug to make something—anything—I hope you’ll answer it. You don’t have to wait for inspiration or feel “good enough.” Just begin.

Light a candle if you want. Put on music that moves you. Close your eyes and ask, “What wants to be seen today?” Then let your hands lead the way.

Because maybe art isn’t about making masterpieces. Maybe it’s about making meaning. And maybe the most spiritual thing we can do is allow ourselves to show up—imperfect, open, and willing to create anyway. Here is an interesting article I found on the internet that shows that other artists and creatives are beginning to feel the same way.

Have you ever felt something sacred stir while you were creating? I’d love to hear how art connects to your spirit.