A season for healing

"A time for healing," 5 x 7 watercolor holiday greeting card

With Christmas past, the pandemic still raging, with the year near end, I thought of favorite Bible verses from Ecclesiastes 3:1-8.

From "To everything there is a season," the phrase that hangs in my mind at this time is "a time to heal."

A few of the many holiday watercolor cards I paint are specifically intended for certain friends and relatives, because of subjects, common interests, histories.

These next six cards as the year ends are among those, starting today with another rendition of El Santuario de Chimayo in New Mexico, site of the miraculous healing dirt, a place of power and meaning to me and others I know. 

A little of that healing dirt is in a antique bottle in front of my computer screen--it even heals spiritually and mentally because of the precious memories it brings every time I see it. 

Here is Ecclesiastes 3:1-8.

To everything there is a season,
A time for every purpose under heaven:
A time to be born, And a time to die;
A time to plant, And a time to pluck what is planted;
A time to kill, And a time to heal;
A time to break down, And a time to build up;
A time to weep, And a time to laugh;
A time to mourn, And a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones, And a time to gather stones;
A time to embrace, And a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to gain, And a time to lose;
A time to keep, And a time to throw away;
A time to tear, And a time to sew;
A time to keep silence, And a time to speak;
A time to love, And a time to hate;
A time of war, And a time of peace.

Beckoning the Muse

"El Santuario," 5 x 7 watercolor holiday greeting card

What's a cure for feeling cooped up  as a cold front arrives on a cloudy day. 

Beckon the muse, which includes an early  walk in the park when it's quiet with few people, where you can use your senses to connect with nature.

Then it's easier to let the muse beckon, thinking of other places  you'd rather be, back to memories and favorite places.

Pick up the brush and start painting, and the muse answers.

Thus today's watercolor, of El Santuario de Chimayo in New Mexico site of the miraculous curing earth, painted many times. 

But today, for a holiday card, it helped me get started on more cards, curing malaise as I worked out the problems and remembered our great times there. Just wish we were there now. 

Watercolor watershed

"Santuario in the Snow," 13 3/4 by 17 3/4 (framed), watercolor, 140 lb d'Arches cold press paper

Watersheds. Sources of life downstream. Watercolors do that for me sometimes, after the failures and frustrations at least, when they all come together.

Today's success story is such a watershed, the Santuario de Chimayo in New Mexico, which I've painted many times. This one is also special, as it was commissioned. 

I've featured it before, but today I picked it up framed, ready to deliver on Saturday.

Faith and power in the New Mexico earth

"Santuario in the snow," 8 x 10 watercolor, 140 lb Fabriano Artistico extra white cold press paper

Have you been to El Santuario de Chimayo in northern New Mexico? Have you touched the Holy dirt?
Though a relatively short drive from Santa Fe, in many ways it's a trek  back in time where you can witness, and experience a faith that defies modern science. It is a place of power.
Hundreds of pilgrims trek there every holy week, seeking forgiveness and healing, and more than 300,000 visit the shrine every year. 
You don't have to believe, but you will be stunned into hushed silence by the evidence of crutches and rosaries and more hanging on the walls in the little prayer room next to the little "pocido" room. 

Holy dirt from Chimayo, and a bear fetish from a Jemez Pueblo artist

There you can scoop the holy dirt out of the small hole in the floor. The chapel was built in 1814-1816 after a local farmer witnessed a miracle there. 
I have some in an antique bottle right in front of my computer from a trip years ago. We go every time we're in New Mexico, also to buy the excellent red chili powder from a local farmer.
All of that is just to give perspective  to today's watercolor, of the Santuario in the snow. This isn't the first time I've painted it, or written about it. But today's was commissioned after a person saw an earlier version and said,"That speaks to me."
It speaks to me too, so here it is, watercolor, with a touch of white acrylic for snow flakes.
Here are two previous blog posts on the Shrine 

• Healing Earth
• Season of Enchantment

Season of enchantment

"Snow at Santuario," 8 x 10 watercolor 

"Land of Enchantment" is an old slogan for New Mexico, and the older I get, the more I'm aware.
One of the places of power on earth is the Santuario de Chimayo, the little church with the miraculous holy dirt, a focus of pilgrims and sick who believe.
I find the entire place healing, even though it's becoming more "touristified" every year, as more and more people discover this remote gem in Northern New Mexico.
It's no accident that I have a small antique bottle filed with some of that sanctified dirt  in front of me.
So here is a vision of the magic and enchantment.

Sanctuary from time

El Santuario de Chimayó -- 9 by 12 watercolor

Time seems to stand still in certain places. For me, one of those is El Santuario de Chimayó on the high road to Taos in New Mexico.
While the church turned 200 this year, visiting it is like going back in time, to medieval faith and thought. 
The shrine, a National Historic Landmark, is famous as a pilgrimage site and its miraculous healing dirt, referred to as the "Lourdes of the Southwest." More than 300,000 visit it every year, many as just tourists, but most as Catholics professing faith and seeking healing.
About  30,000 people from all over the world make pilgrimages during Holy Week. Walking is traditional. The highway shoulders are crammed with people during those days. 
 Why? Step inside the church and you enter a different world of 16th Century faith--you are breathing time standing still. The side room contains a small room where a round pit holds the "holy dirt"--tierra bendita. People rub it on themselves or take it with them (Yes, I have some). The dirt is blessed by priests and  replenished daily.
What is impressive are the walls crowded with discarded crutches, crosses, photographs and other testimonials from those healed.
Legend says that during a holy week in the early 1800s, a friar saw a light shining from the hillside and dug the crucifix up with his bare hands. A priest took it to the Santa Cruz church, but the crucifix mysteriously returned to the spot where it was found. After the third time this happened, a chapel was built to house the crucifix, and then in 1816, the present church.

Built of adobe, it is 60 feet long and 24 feet wide with walls more than three feet thick. The present caps on the tower and metal roof were added in the 1920s. 
Inside you find hand carved doors by 19th century carpenter Pedrom Dominguez. The nave containes a six-foot tall crucifix by the santero Molleno, 1800-1850, representing Christ of Esquipulas.
Much has been written about the shrine and it is often painted and photographed, and change outside is coming rapidly. It even has a web page, and parking areas and other fancy touristy stuff are being added close by.
But for me, whether you believe in the legends or miracles or not, it is a place where time stands still. Today's watercolor hopes to catch that spirit.   

The early Santuario.