God, I love painting

The day I started painting, I knew I’d be doing it forever.

When I was 10, my grandfather went blind. I remember how he could move around our house by memory. That’s how I feel about painting. Even if I went blind, I’d paint by memory and feel. If I had no hands, I would find a way to get the paint on the canvas. Because I absolutely need it to survive.

On October 16, 2016, I made my first painting. Yes, I’d made paintings at paint & sips and little paintings at summer camp when I was seven. I mean this was the first time I went out and selected canvas and paint with the full intention of creating something. I spent all night making a two-color painting that would probably take me 15 minutes to make now, including drying time. It was 6 a.m. by the time I was done.

Looking back, that painting wasn’t particularly special. In essence, maybe, but not as an object. What was special was the act of painting. The fact that I could work on something all night long and completely lose track of time. That’s what I fell in love with. Some paintings I really cherish. Some are a true extension of my ideas in physical form. Others are just a byproduct of what I’ve been carrying all my life. But at the end of the day, I’m dedicated to painting, not just to the paintings. For 10 years, painting has been the way I meditate, think, process my ideas, and worship God. It has worked wonders in my life. It has afforded me opportunities and introduced me to people I would never have met without it.

It’s kept me sober, disciplined, and humble. It has taught me a lot about what I think of myself and what I should think of myself. Painting showed me how to be me. It helped me understand that my uniqueness is the reason my work works. Over the years, I’ve watched myself grow as an artist. Not just in what I can do with paint, but in what I’m asking painting to do for me. I loosened my grip on dreams that sounded amazing but were filled with empty wants. Things I thought would satisfy me, when really they would only feed my ego and insecurities. And I started holding tighter to the reality of what painting is and what it does for me. It is a gift from God. It does not owe me anything. Instead, I owe everything to it because it is my direct connection to God.

If there were no money involved, I would still do it.

Ten years in, I’m just now beginning to see the shape of my career, my impact, and what God has for me through painting. I can look back and recognize where I could have let go and where I could have shown up. I don’t want to enter the next 10 years only thinking about what I can accomplish. I want to walk in wisdom, understanding that my entire life and this journey in painting are guided by God.

There is nothing I have done in my own strength that fully explains the positions I’ve landed in. Some of it makes no sense to me. But that’s exactly how God works. I’m filled with gratitude to have made it this far. For the work, for the growth, and for the people painting has brought into my life. I can’t wait to see what comes next.

And as certain as I was on that first day that I would paint forever, my ultimate mission is to follow God. To be obedient to His will. If I’m supposed to paint forever, I will. If I’m supposed to stop and change directions, as hard as that would be, I will. If that is His command for me. That’s what I’m carrying into the next 10 years. Not just the determination to keep going, but the willingness to be led.

If you’re at the beginning of something you love, I hope you give yourself time to grow into it. My first painting took all night. Ten years later, I’m still learning what that night started.

Anyways, here’s to 10 years of growth.

Good Job
-Von