![NEST.jpg](https://steemitimages.com/DQmRAcLTzDK9kWziAxqbyZZRmSEzfwMDqn9WqyVzg4roRtT/NEST.jpg)

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# The Nest 


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A story of reclaiming parts of ourselves not fully realized. 

How one nest became the guardian to my heart - a place of refuge and protection....of self discovery and peace.  


# Never say never..... #

I had joined an evening art class for someone else to keep them company - she didn't want to go alone. I had not drawn since I was a child so my expectations were very low. But that was okay - I'm not an artist! Besides, wine and laughter would be served with some much needed female bonding. It could be fun?

As with any art project, I had to choose a 'subject'. I didn't give this enough thought apparently, choosing a 'nest' for my first subject. I started with the eggs first and thought, "Wow, they actually resemble eggs!" The art teacher praised my efforts and even said, "You killed it, girl!" This gave me a hefty boost to my confidence and a renewed interest in drawing. I found myself reflecting on my drawings as a child - "I used to love to draw! How could I forget this?”


> So interesting how we grow up and abandon childhood interests in exchange for an adult life, career, marriage, creating a family.  Why?

This artistic high was quickly dissolved by the third class. "Post-egg blues", I referred to it. This is when the realization set in that I chose a 'nest'. Not just any nest, but a complicated, detailed, chaotic, tangled mess of twigs and FEATHERS! What was I thinking?! How is it even possible to draw FEATHERS?! I have 'never' been a detail-oriented person. I am actually quite allergic to it ;)  How do I free myself from this monstrosity of detail?

Now, my attention was drawn to the teacher.  There she was drinking her wine and giggling in her Mary Poppins-esk, colorful apron. I've never been one to hide my thoughts and emotions well (my face tells all), so she quickly picked this little characteristic of mine.  "What's up? How's your amazing nest going? Do you want some wine?" "No wine, thank you. (Right to the point), I think I like the eggs the way they are." She giggled and let out a squeal, then reassured me that I just needed to stick with it and allow myself to get into the flow.  To which I answered, "Yes, I think I will have a small glass of wine."

Many weeks went by learning how to draw feathers which felt very much like a dyslexic exercise in visual inversion. They completely turned my brain inside out and wore me out.....but I finally did it! Again, the praise came and my confidence got a little boost. I realized at this stage that challenges somehow turn out okay. This was monumental! After all, these feathers were very detailed. Hmmm

![IMG_5861[1].jpg](https://steemitimages.com/DQmXBXNe75fEEXcv3f1E5JinY9GSqs3ZXN7n6yLEUszgJ4A/IMG_5861%5B1%5D.jpg)

After this I didn't feel much like tackling the challenge of twigs. I ended up twirling my pencil around in a holding pattern for weeks. What was emerging was 'flat' and lifeless...a menagerie of cartoon-like lines in comparison to the eggs and feathers. I just wasn't feeling it. How on earth was this going to "magically" come together? And by this point (many months in), I had become 'invested' in the nest. It was becoming a part of me. With this also came another hurdle of my own making - feelings of anxiety - not wanting to mar it or mess it up!

## A Solitary nest caught in a storm. ##

Little did I know while beginning this nest that it would become my shelter during one of the most difficult years of my life.

Just months earlier, my very special and much loved companion and best friend, Bella, had a medical crisis which turned into a diagnosis of a very rare (only two dogs in the world) blood cancer along with Cushings and hypothyroidism. Prognosis: Nothing could be done and it was optimistic to expect she would survive a couple weeks. Having beat a similar diagnosis myself, I wasn't going to accept this without fighting for her and putting everything I had into saving her and making her more comfortable.

Then came one family death after another...only months between and hardly enough time to heal let alone breathe, my family's world was thrown into a whirlwind of grief and sadness.

As anyone knows that has experienced death in their life, it is a raw and personal place that you go to in your very turbulent heart. It's not a place that anyone else can visit, fix or heal. You find comfort only in those moments in-between the waves of memories and sadness...like the waves of an ocean ebbing and flowing in and out of your heart. And eventually one day, the waves become less frequent. However, four deaths were much too much for my heart. I've been in this place before, yet this was far more than I felt equipped to handle.

One evening, my grief was especially intense and uncomfortable. I had to find some way of re-directing my mind someplace else. I couldn't read a book because I couldn't see the words through the tears. I couldn't listen to music because that brought up more emotions.....***THE NEST***!


## Surrender ##

For the next six months the nest became my refuge, counselor and comforter. And though it couldn't fix my heart, it allowed me to enter into its space and it into mine with suspended timelessness. Hours felt like minutes as I weaved together each painful and happy memory within each twig - Occasionally, venturing off into a particular memory, thought or emotion with pure abandon - a wild and untethered branch would emerge. The nest and I became 'one'. No longer did I require the subject photo - it no longer served me. I was flying solo! Surrendering myself to its natural flow.
 

## When is a nest complete?  ##

A very unexpected feeling arose as I neared the end of my drawing. Arriving in class in the final weeks, I felt as if unpacking my nest was like laying the most intimate parts of my heart on the table for all to see. So very uncomfortable for me.   

My teacher's face gleaming with an encouraging smile from across the table, catching her eyes staring at my me and my work with deep evaluating thought.  She eventually walked behind me and leaned over and whispered, "I think that nest is 'you'." I felt a sharp ball of pain develop in my throat (how accurate she was) as I tried to hold myself together. "This is so beautiful, each twig"...then taking her finger tracing each one..."the shadows and light, prickly and strong...."but these eggs and the softness of the feathers - they are your little family - safe and protected in their warm down and feathers." Did I lose it? "Oh yes I did - damn it!" Wow.....ART.  I had no idea, not a clue.

> **How do you know when you are truly finished? When you look at what you created and are moved to tears. Not because of sadness, but because of what it ***taught*** you.** 

Drawing done in graphite
Size: 17 x 11