Open Places and White Space

I started this blog about twelve different times. How do I write about a collection inspired but such a great expanse of land both humble and grandiose? How can I convey the deep breath for your soul that comes from experiencing a breeze across your face that extends through tall prairie grass as far as your eye can see? 

I didn’t attend art school, I’m a hack at best and this metaphor might fall short in light of that, but I’ve been told that white space is important in two-dimensional art pieces, a place your eyes can rest as your brain processes the work before you. The Kansas prairie has been the whitespace of my life. From playing in the fields at my grandparents' farm, to driving through miles of hills, to cultivating my own little plot of land–this collection embraces the rest and slow that I did not go looking for but has found me time and again. 

The Lord has placed me in Kansas for all of my 40 years. That’s not out of lack of effort to leave. There has been plenty of that but as Prov 16:9 says, “A man’s heart plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps.” 

It was not my plan to land in Emporia when we were first married, while still working in Salina KS, two points with no direct route short of using an airplane. But when I discovered we were expecting our firstborn the Lord knew I needed the quiet drive to process through all that was about to change for us in the best possible ways. It was a stretch of flint hills along the winding route that inspired an 8 by 2-foot diptych painting I did while holding my son on maternity leave. A quiet practice that put me back in the place I spent so much time sensing the Lord’s presence in times of uncertainty. 

When the Lord provided work for my husband in El Dorado that allowed me to stay home with my then son and eventually four kids–quiet drives through the flint hills discovering minimum maintenance roads with cheap gas station drinks became a common routine. The scenic drives providing beauty, music playing and the babies being rumbled to sleep with the backroads. 

In 2017 (I think) we wound up with a foreclosed house on a few acres outside of town. This project has been immensely more than I ever understood it would be and yet even with hindsight I would choose it over and over again. I never knew how much I needed the space and slowdown of the country until it was handed to me. The white space of my frenzied life. 

I write this from a chair on my porch looking out at the westward sky full of clouds that shame any travelling art exhibit. The breeze cools my coffee and sends hushed sounds of swaying grass that quiet my soul. And while sometimes it is easy to get lost in the weeds–metaphorically and literally–this year’s rain has us looking like a jungle of johnson grass and I didn’t get up this morning excited to put my wily heifer back in her fence–HOWEVER–choosing to pause with a bird's eye view is so important and such a gift. 

For me this obviously happens in the flint hills–where I can literally drive to a space that lets my mind and heart wander without the burden of the hustle. That’s what inspired this collection. The idea that we all have a white space where we can pause and zoom out. Look back on all that God has done and trust Him that He is still at work. 

I had a remarkable opportunity to do this at the final Symphony in the Flinthills this past month. Honored to have a bolo tie, the capstone of this collection really, featured in the art auction–I was given two tickets to sit in the rolling hills while the Kansas City Symphony played over us. In the crowd of several thousand, sat people I have cherished for years, friends past and present, teachers and artists who inspired me and people I have yet to meet. As I gazed over the hills I was struck by how many times the Lord has used the simple Kansas prairie as a place of refuge and rest for my weary soul. 

As I worked on this collection–drawing the concepts and landscapes, engraving and shaping the metal, my hope for each piece is that it will bring the wearer a little bit of white space. A reminder that sometimes we get caught in the weeds but the expanse of life’s beauty around us is calling, beckoning us to rest, to enjoy, to be still. I encourage you to pour a cup of coffee today and find a space where you can sit and reflect on all the goodness of God in your life. Scripture promises us it's there.

“The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims his handiwork” -Psalms 19:1

xo, Jilli