Melissa Stephens Art

The Secret Lies in the Lotus

It’s sweet summertime in Pennsylvania: a season for marveling at lightning bugs; reminding myself a bajillion times to watch the ball when I swing a golf club; drinking iced coffee; enjoying a vacation or two; and writing shorter blog posts (I hope!) I find magic in all four seasons but, for me, time spent outside in summertime is super-saturated with sunshine, warmth, and color. Though it can be harder to include art in my bustling summer days, I try to keep my hands moving creatively because, when I skip a day or two or ten or more, I find it hard to restart. Therefore, I try to bring my creativity along when I travel and squeeze it in where I can. When I pack my underwear and socks and toiletries, I also pack my art supplies and my camera. In doing so I remind myself that art is portable, that noticing is powerful, and that the delightfully tiny details I appreciate, whether at our Lake house I re-visit throughout the year or in an exotic destination I visit once-in-a-lifetime, my travel experiences and memories can inspire my art both while I’m on-the-road and when I’m safely back in my home studio. A few of the creativity tools that always find their way into my backpack are a sketchbook and a grade school pencil box (stuffed with graphite & charcoal pencils, an eraser, a sharpener, a few black micron markers of differing widths, and a ballpoint pen.) Occasionally I’ll also bring a small set of watercolors and a few brushes. Though some trips offer more time (& energy) for drawing and painting than others, I try, in stolen moments here and there, to create art within the journaling notes I make each day.

During one of our recent, once-in-a-lifetime vacations, my husband and I traveled to India and Bhutan. On that trip, I was especially excited to learn about the Buddhist culture of Bhutan and, knowing the Lotus flower is a symbol of Buddhism, I brought a photocopied page of Lotus flower drawings from Lisa Congdon’s book, 20 Ways to Draw a Tulip and 44 Other Fabulous Flowers. I thought her images might get me started with a fun zentangle drawing I could add details to as our trip progressed. I also brought the small book, Peace Is Every Step by Thich Nhat Hanh, a Vietnamese Buddhist monk. Our flight from Newark, NJ to Delhi, India was delayed and delayed and delayed and the longer we waited to board the plane, the more nervous I became. Almost 16 hours on a plane, going to India, leaving everything I am comfortable with (except Art!) at home, what was I thinking? My anxiety was spiraling out of control! At close to midnight, it had already been a long day and I was tired of pacing my worries around the terminal. I sat down, opened Hanh’s book, read the 1^st chapter and, as he instructed, began consciously breathing: “in I calm my body, out I smile // in I calm my body, out I smile.” To my great surprise, it helped! When we finally boarded the plane, I was breathing in, breathing out, and smiling the whole way down the jet bridge. Upon reaching our seats, I immediately opened my sketchbook, drew my first Lotus flower, and wrote his powerful mantra in and around its petals (see image below).

Soon after arriving in Delhi, I discovered the lotus is the national flower of India and representations of it, from realistic to abstract to geometrical, were everywhere! Finding lotus imagery, first in India and later in Bhutan, became a daily quest. I took photographs of those gorgeous flowers carved into decorative woodwork, painted onto signs and billboards and murals, sculpted into iron fences, appliqued onto textiles, and inlaid into stone. So. Many. Lotus. Flowers! Every day was a lotus flower treasure hunt! In our hotel room each evening, I would pick my favorite lotus photo from the day, draw it in my sketchbook, and use that drawing as a place holder for my journaling. Before I knew it, I was drawing my 16^th Lotus flower on our flight from Paro, Bhutan back to Delhi and then to home.

After our bags were unpacked and I was comfortably working again in my home studio, I found, though our trip was over, I wasn’t finished exploring the graceful form & deep meaning of the Lotus flower. I revisited my travel drawings and used them as inspiration for a series of small paintings (I’ve paired several of those drawings and paintings below.) “The Lotus flower blooms most beautifully from the deepest, thickest mud,” is a Buddhist proverb that offers wisdom for all our lives. When we rise above our struggles, we find ourselves able to grow and fully, beautifully bloom. On this trip, I struggled with the toxic anxiety I experienced while waiting for our long flight into the unknown. Only after we boarded, when I began drawing, could I relax and, only after I relaxed, could I allow myself to be captivated by all I would see and experience: from the exquisite design and scale of Mughal architecture (like the Taj Mahal) to the vibrant colors of saris and the intricate patterns of woven textiles. Only after I opened myself to the beauty of new people and places could I grow and learn and marvelously bloom, like the lotus flower. The rich histories and unique cultures of both India and Bhutan were a visual artist’s dream! While there I could feel the ancient, deeply spiritual heartbeat of each country pulsating through my own mind, body, and soul: while listening to chanting monks, while circumambulating religious sites, and while turning sacred prayer wheels. “Om Mani Pae Mey Hun” was a mantra inscribed in stones piled in a temple courtyard, written on prayer flags fluttering in the breeze, and spoken by our devout Buddhist guides in Bhutan. Translated it means “no mud, no lotus flower” or “the secret lies in the lotus.” The struggles we face, the muddy patches of our lives, as awful as they may feel at the time, are both necessary and temporary. My near panicked anxiety before traveling to India passed in a few mindful, meditative breaths and a lotus flower drawn on a page. While the memories I made, the artistry I appreciated, and the holiness I experienced will inspire me for years and years.