In Conclusion

The Painting of Blessed Mother will probably remain unfinished.  I have my reasons.  And so does she.

Painting Blessed Mother day 4

Today was a beautiful day spent painting in the sunshine and fresh air under my friend and art instructor Rebbeckah's pear tree,  With honey bees drinking from the hanging water garden, her cat Boo watching from inside their tiny house and Gus the family dog hanging out at our feet in case any food puts in an appearance.  The fragrance of sweet peas hangs in the air.

Today I learned how to block in the face with color.  When I left she-Blessed Mother-had taken on an almost iconic glow thanks largely to Rebbeckah's patient instruction.

Here is today's progress

Another Painting Day

In February I wrote that I would be going back the following week to paint at my friend's house, but it didn't happen.

Instead many, many weeks passed until today when I once again found myself working with Blessed Mother on canvas.

It's not easy to tell here, but it was my desire to portray the cosmos woven into and around her, just as I saw her in my initial vision.  I still have more work to do, but it's coming along slowly.

This photo shows today's work.

Blessed Mother part 3 by Rita Tortorello

The Wound

Do you see it?  Its that little black dot at the base of Guadalupe's throat.

My friend instructed us to paint a "wound" into the painting for Blessed Mother to heal.

My wound is around food.

I have a bit of warrior archetypal energy in my make up, which may surprise people who know me in my role as "healer".  But I think the two often exist within the same body.  For me it often manifests as someone who fights for a cause.  Someone who wants to change the status quo. 

And so I have moved into the role of food activist in the last 20 years.

Knowing too much about our food supply has taken the joy out of eating.

Shopping becomes an exercise in restraint and denial rather than a fun modern version of hunter/gathering.

Is it organic?  fair trade?  packaged in plastic?  locally or sustainably produced? are some of the questions which haunt me whenever I go grocery shopping.

When I painted this picture of Guadalupe on her feast day, the "wound" I added was my anger that I have lost my innocence around food, and in that moment, I longed to return to the days of my childhood, when food was simply enjoyable and I didn't worry about where it came from and at what cost.

Today Blessed Mother helped me to begin healing that wound.  I made a trip to a healer I know in Portland and she saw that wound very clearly within me.  My heart smiled as she described what she was observing, because I had been getting previews of this conversation for the last 24 hours and I knew exactly what she was talking about.  What a relief that she saw the wound and that she could use her conscious observation to get my body to release this crazy paradigm that had taken hold of my metabolism, manifesting in food allergies.

So thank you to Sid Snider of Synergy Wellness in Portland OR, my friend and painting instructor Rebbeckah, and most of all to Blessed Mother for carrying my wound, and being the catalyst for my healing.

Ave Maria

Waning Moon: Diving into Darkness

I went back to the tiny house of my friend who paints.  I brought with me the painting of The Lady.  I was dressed for gardening too.  Our plan was to either paint or garden.  We would choose according to the weather.  I was certain we would be working outside, but The Lady had other plans.

She had been resting 7 1/2 weeks and she was ready to work with me again.  The rain began just as I loaded the painting into the car.  By the time I arrived, it was pouring.

We spent the afternoon painting.  I reconnected with the canvas, and undertook to explore the art of glazing.  My friend asked me to think about what colors I would use, cool blues?  warm reds?  If it had been left to me, I would have gone with blue for this stage.  But my painting mentor reminded me to ask.

Blessed Mother chose purple, and the word rang through my inner hearing joyously.

"Purple!" I found myself chiming enthusiastically, and my friend laughingly pointed out that purple was both warm and cool...blue and red.

So I glazed in purple...and I covered my painting fearlessly with a purple wash.  When I was finished, the painting was totally different.  In my friends little house, it looked like it was lit up by ultra violet light.

At my house though, it looked dim.  I was disappointed for the first time in the process.

"What have I done?"

But Blessed Mother gently reminded me that I had been painting under the influence of a waning moon.  And truly, I was able to see that.  My friend had repeatedly offered me more light, but I only wanted to paint in the dark corner of the studio.  When I look at the painting now, it looks like it was painted by the light of an eclipse.  And it has that quality of dark light to it.

And then she-Blessed Mother told me what to do for next time when I go back to work next week on the painting.

I had not been able to get the affect I had seen in the initial meditation, when she revealed her image to me almost 8 weeks ago.  But now she told me how to do it, and I can't wait to try it.

Starting with white...

I haven't taken a photo of the updated painting at this stage, but I will include one later.  And soon, because the moon is nearly dark.

Updated Photo

Here is a photo of the painting in her current phase...

Blessed Mother Guadalupe unfinished painting by Rita Tortorello (waning woof moon phase)

Blessed Mother, let me see Earth healed...whole...loved

The Prayer

Three of us stand with canvases and easels in my friend's tiny home.  Her plush black cat looks on with ancient wisdom shining behind her benevolent and mildly curious gaze.  A stool in the corner holds brushes and paints.  I have never painted before.  Not on canvas.  We begin with a story and a journey.  And we begin with a prayer. Which writes itself in charcoal on my canvas.  We drum the canvas and we bathe it in rose water to invite the prayer in.

Did I mention?  It is the feast day of Guadalupe.

The Vision

I see her in my mind's eye.  She fills the cosmos.  She is woven into the fabric of the universe.  She is so big, I can only see her face and shoulders.  She is too big for me to see all of her.

The Painting

Over the prayer, the painting begins to emerge.  The face takes on shape from the prayer and the rayos, the corona around her, takes on a color I did not expect.  The Roses explode from her dress in all directions, merging with the cosmos.  And her hair...most surprising of all to me...her hair is white.

The painting is not finished yet, but I will have an opportunity in the coming week to continue working with it.

In these 7 weeks, I have had been forming a relationship with the painting and with Blessed Mother.

The Dream

I see the path before me.  It is a woodland trail with plants overgrowing on both sides, so I can barely see my feet as I walk.  Even so, the narrow path is visible.  The trail ends at a rough arched wooden doorway.

The thought comes into my mind, "Oh, this is Blessed Mother's house."

I don't know how I know that.  It is part of the vision.  Part of the dream.

I turn and walk away.  It is enough for me to know it's there.


It is after that dream that my house becomes Her house.

Feast Day of Guadalupe 2015 unfinished painting by Rita Tortorello