On being willing to be lost

One of my collectors recently sent me an article that I absolutely loved. In it, the newly vision-impaired author reflected on the confusion and fear of moving through life with blurry sight, unable to catch edges or details.

What struck me most was her description of falling in love with a Monet painting. At the time Monet completed it, he too was living with blurry vision from cataracts. She wondered:

What allowed him to finish the painting? What softness? What self-forgiveness? What awareness of beauty in forms dissolving? What willingness to be lost in the world?

What delicious questions!

They echo so much of my own journey. With my “double handicap” of poor vision and poor hearing (and a “triple,” if you count my wobbly Dutch skills here in the Netherlands!), I often find myself caught in focusing on what’s missing. It’s easy to feel incompetent, lost, afraid, frustrated, or disconnected. And yes, sometimes I do.

But I’m also noticing how embracing abstraction, experimentation, and play in my art-making is helping me to get better at finding beauty in ambiguity, uncertainty, and even incompetence. This practice is growing my capacity to stay with fear and return - more quickly each time - to rest, openness, vulnerability, humor, play, and compassion.

Softness. Forgiveness. Awareness of the beauty in losing. Willingness to be lost. This is where I want to create from - both in art and in life.

What about you?

Where in your life have you been asked to let go of clarity, control, or certainty? How might that open an unexpected doorway into the ways of being you long for most?

“Resilience Grows” (2025). Acrylic on wood panel. 40 × 40cm.