Enneagram and Encaustic

The finalized versions of the saint portraits. Christos Anesti!

Remember, my idea was to create a basic Ash Wednesday piece that would develop throughout Lent into a completed Good Friday painting. It’s the same size as my saint paintings, 7″x 7″ on a wallboard substrate.

I’ve always been impressed with St. Veronica’s bravery. Peter denies Christ and Simon of Cyrene tries to avoid carrying the cross, but here’s Veronica, surrounded by Roman soldiers, calmly wiping Christ’s face.

I also love the cloth as a relic. In my screenplay (The Fifth Husband) adapted from Chaucer, I enjoyed writing the Pardoner. He has a sack of Veronica handkerchiefs for sale, each one the “official” cloth that touched Christ. I gave the Pardoner a villainous intent based on his fraudulent profession.

These are fun details, but the foundational reason I’m painting St. Veronica is because she is one of the names my father chose (the other is Colleen) for the two miscarriages my mother had after I was born. As Catholics we believe that, from conception, an unborn baby has a soul. Even though these two young ones miscarried before sex characteristics could be identified, Dad wanted to pray for their intercession and remember them as part of our family. He hopes to reunite with them in heaven. He gave one the name my mother wanted for me, and the other was named in remembrance of his beloved aunt who died young. I’m comforted and fascinated by the thought of two sisters, unknown and unmet, who may be praying for me at this very moment.

Although his name is very recognizable, St. Liguori is not well known to me. His severe case of rheumatism — he was bent almost double — mark him as the patron saint of arthritis. Because of my gamer thumb, a repetitive motion disability on my left hand from using a controller stick, I wanted to find a saint who might intercede for me.

My thumb arthritis, which hasn’t stopped me from gaming, has completely ended my guitar playing. A strong left thumb is essential for bar chords. I love that St. Liguori was also a songwriter. Saints that connect with me on two vectors are really interesting.

I’m also fascinated that he struggled with scrupulosity. It’s an easy rabbit hole for me, and I’m happy to pray for the intervention of someone who recognized its poison.

This is a very rough-and-ready version of the piece, but that’s the nature of Lent. I’d rather not post something so unfinished. Too bad, kid.

Because St. Blaise is the patron of any ENT concern, I could’ve used him as my saint for ear trouble. When the priest crosses the candles in front of my throat and gives the blessing, though, it feels specific to the vocal chords. He’s my singing saint.

The fish is one of his indicators. He cured a boy who was choking on a bone.

The iron comb is the torture device that killed him. A tool for carding sheep’s wool was used to flay his skin.

The little bird is for the animals who came to him to be healed and blessed. After reading about his martyrdom, it’s nice to think of something more gentle and wholesome.

I chose my Confirmation name, Elizabeth, because I thought it was pretty. Such was my Catholic sophistication as a fourteen year old girl. I didn’t contemplate a saint I admired. Of the many St. Elizabeths, I didn’t even consider which one I wanted to emulate.

Only later did I feel compelled to resolve my choice. The Visitation is my favorite rosary mystery, and the friendship between Mary and her cousin is so supportive and comforting. Also, by that point I had carried and given birth to babies of my own. This particular Elizabeth became my official Confirmation saint.

May I remember her grace, faith, and compassion when confronted with my own trials.

As far as I can tell, the deaf don’t have a specific saint. Other saints, such as Francis de Sales, do double duty, with deafness secondary to journalism. The Baptist, apparently, is considered a patron of the deaf because, when he lost his head, he stopped hearing. Everyone who dies loses their hearing, so it seems like a gratuitous association.

However, who doesn’t want to paint the Beheading of John? Pretty much everyone throughout history has done so. It’s an evocative scene. He may not be the best representative of my ear troubles, but I couldn’t resist. Besides, his hearing (his head) was forcibly taken from him. Those of us with diminished capacity can find compassion and understanding when praying for his intercession.

This portrait isn’t finished, but those are my rules for Lenten painting. Post what you’ve got at the end of the week, refine later.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

This Lent I want to do another series. (Over the past two Lents I contemplated the Stations of the Cross.) This time I’ll be encaustic painting five saints who are relevant to me. 

Because I have no drawing skill, I’ll be using photos of my mother and my uncle. Mom died 11 years ago and Uncle Ace died as a young man when I was a small child. Both, we pray, are now saints in heaven.

Throughout Lent I’ll also be working on my Easter painting. This heart and ashes encaustic is the beginning. I like the notion of a rudimentary piece of artwork, appropriate for this moment, that develops into something else.

May all of us have a fruitful Lent.