Holy Land Watercolors

As I prepared for my semester abroad in Israel I went to my Illustration professors for advice as to how to keep up my artistic practice while away.  I didn't have much extra space in my luggage so bringing canvas and an easel was out of the question.  After congratulating me on the incredible opportunity I had and sharing stories about friends who have gone in the past, they directed me to some excellent websites and fellow artist blogs from which I gathered enough information to put together an artistic travel kit of my own.

The goal was simple, keep a sketchbook like I do every year, but also, take this rare opportunity to paint scenes and images on site at places that I will very likely never get to go to again.  Before this past semester, I had only painted with watercolor once and I will be the first to admit that I am not very good at it.  With each painting I have no idea what I am doing and, therefore, have to experiment until something looks alright.  My paintings are nowhere near professional looking, but I am able to look at them and remember the moment I made them.  Where I was, what I was doing, who I was with.  Yes, you can do the same thing with a picture, but there is something different about being able to say that, "I painted that sitting on the shore of the Sea of Galilee."  It is my personal take of what I saw and what I found important enough to put on paper.  My journey, not only through Israel, but through art.

The beloved Jerusalem Center

En Gev's view of the Sea of Galilee

The Garden Tomb

Now I must apologize for not finishing my Jerusalem posts sooner.  Once I arrived in Michigan I gave myself quite the list of projects to complete, sadly, finishing my blog was not near the top.  After filling out my mission papers, art was my highest priority.  I wanted to challenge myself further by painting more detailed images then the quick on-site paintings I did while in Jerusalem.  Not needing to worry about homework or class readings certainly gave me the clear schedule and mind that I needed.

It's a funny process that I go through each time I start a new art project.  When first beginning, I look at what I'm trying to recreate, visualize what I think the end product will look like, and think to myself, "Oh yeah, I can do that easy."  Then as I get further and further into it I become more discouraged.  I take frequent breaks, stomping away in frustration because I just can't figure out what to do to make it right and I can't look at it anymore.  I'll stare at it incomplete, telling myself how inadequate of an artist I am and that I will never be able to make it look the way it should.  But then I do finish it and I can't believe it.  Every time I look at it I have to remind myself that I was the one who made it.

Do you ever forget that you have talent?  You are used to using it all the time and it comes so naturally to you that it doesn't feel special at all, just  average?  That's how I feel with art.  It's no big deal to me.  I just do it.  When people tell me how amazing it is that I'm an illustration major I can only respond with a, "Yeah... it's fun."  But there are rare moments, usually just after I've finished a project, when I step back, and take in my work.  Only then does it dawn on me that I am pretty amazing at drawing.  Actually, the thought is more like, "Holly Fetch I'm GOOD!"

Jerusalem from Mt. Scopis

Church of St. Mary Magdalene and Jerusalem from the Mt. of Olives

Don't worry, more on my adventures in the Galilee to come.  I promise!

Cartoons and FHE

Well here they are, some of my final sketches from while I was in Jerusalem.  Even though I didn't have any art classes this semester, I feel as though keeping this sketchbook has really helped me grow.  I wanted to challenge myself in the stylization of my characters,  giving them more emotion, movement, and stories of their own.  Looking back and comparing last semester to my previous sketchbooks, I am very surprised and impressed by the improvement.

This past semester my calling was to be an FHE mom.  I had the best "family" to work with.  One night, they convinced me to draw each of them, originally to make t-shirts but that plan fell through.  We then came up with titles for each member and what their role was in the family.  I think we were pretty accurate in the descriptions.  Please say hello to my little family.  I love them all dearly.

Skylar: The Absent Father

Eden: Mother Hen

Paige: The Prodigy

Meg: Punk Teen

Katie: The Forgotten Child

Jacob: Golden Child

Anne: A Classy Grandma

Aubreigh: The Kookie Aunt

Sarah: Flower Child

Jenessa: The Pet Bunny

Galilee

So I am officially back from Jerusalem.  Have been for a week now, but it wouldn't be fair to you if I stopped blogging simply because I don't live there anymore.  So much happened that I haven't talked about yet!  We just became so busy the last couple of weeks that I had no time to write.  So I guess that means it time to play catch up!

On the first of April we set off for Galiee.  I assumed we would be traveling most of the day, which we were, but I didn't anticipate so may amazing stops along the way.  I have reached a point where getting off the bus at each new site isn't as exciting as it once was.  Most times I want to remain on the bus and continue to sleep instead of look at some fallen rocks that look just like twenty other places I've seen.  But I'm not one to pass up a good photo op.  We stopped by Bet Shean, an old Byzantine city with lots of old stones.  But most importantly, it had a bathhouse.  How could I pass up the opportunity to get a bath in the same spot as ancient Romans?  And while I was at it, I finished my field trip reading on an ancient loo. 

We then visited Nazareth, the home of Christ.  There are several churches there that hold significance as either the synagog in which Jesus read scripture and introduced Himself as the Messiah, where Joseph the carpenter's home was, or where the Annunciation of Mary occurred.   At the latter church, they have artistic interpretations of the Annunciation from many different countries (I can't remember the exact number).  Anyway, after much searching, I managed to find one from Uruguay.  Hurrah for family history!

We also stopped by St. Peter's Primacy which is traditionally believed to be the spot where the Savior told Peter to feed His sheep.  Our last stop was the Jordan River where we had some free thinking time which I always appreciate.  Finally a bunch of tired, travel worn, hungry students arrived at En Gev, the Kibbutz we were going to stay at for the next ten days.

The Jordan River

Yay for family history!

The next day we took a boat ride out onto the Sea of Galilee.  We hoisted a flag, sang the national anthem, and had Christian rock blasting on the intercom.  But after awhile we stopped the engine and floated on the calm water while we had a devotional.  I will tell you right now that that was the highlight of my day.

On the Sea of Galilee

Capernaum

The rest of the day we went to Mt. Arbel, Capernaum, and the traditional Mt. of Beatitudes.  It doesn't sound like much but by the time we arrived back at En Gev I was so tired I went back to my apartment and passed out!  However, a bonfire was scheduled for that night so I woke myself up in time to eat dinner and sing some kumbaya around the campfire with my peers.

Overlooking Gamla

Later on in the week we also hiked to Gamla and Kursi.  Gamla has an absolutely gorge-eous view (get it? cuz it's got a lot of gorges).  And Kursi is one of the many spots where the miracle of the casting of devils into swine occurred.

It's all good in the Kursi Hood

After we got back from Kursi some of us slipped into our swimsuits and headed down to the Jordan river.  We put on the worlds grimiest life-jackets, picked our kaiaks and partners, and slid into the water.  That's right, I went kaiaking down the river Jordan.  My partner Lindsay and I quickly paddled past the five/six person rafts and down a giant two foot waterfall (I'm a wild woman I know) until we had left the noise, splashing, and boat-tipping behind us.

Lindsay and I were the perfect team.  I enjoyed proving my awesome strength and stamina by paddling by myself and she enjoyed the role of photographer.  Both artists, we preferred to take in the beauty around us, hence our quick escape from our comrades and boat tipping.  We/I paddled casually along, enjoying the moment, our surroundings, and situation.  It was very calm and relaxing mixed with the occasional patch of strong current which switched our fight mode on.  Before we knew it we had reached the end.  Not quite ready to be done and since everyone else was still behind us, we decided to turn around and see how far upstream we could go.  We then pulled our paddles in, stuck our feet into the water, and floated along discussing the natural beauty around us the way only artists could.  How the light seeped through the trees and landed on the water, finding hidden colors everywhere, and discussing the various techniques that could be used to recreate it.  It was so refreshing to be able to have such a conversation with someone who understood my thought process on the subject.  No explanations were necessary. 

Eventually we had floated back to the end and our friends had caught up with us, so we exited out of our water vehicles and boarded the bus to head back to En Gev.

Just call me a hairless monkey

The next day a handful of us went on a hike.  In case I hadn't made it clear before, I love the outdoors.  More specifically I like climbing things outdoors.  Piles of rocks, vines, cliffs, mountains, trees are a particular favorite of mine and back in the day I was queen of the monkey bars at recess.  I don't get many opportunities to do stuff like that though so I was really excited for this chance.  Our "wilderness" guide was a spry, gray-haired fella who had lead 20+ BYU groups through this same trail before.

We hiked down, through, and up a gorge.  It wasn't anything like climbing up to the Y in Provo, which I'm ashamed to say I have yet to do.  More like a nature exploration.  Climb over here for a great sight, down there for another, and as we went our guide would give us little brain teasers that made me feel like I was back in middle school.  Along the way we passed two waterfalls, the latter of which we got to swim in.  While the majority of us had our swimming gear with us, only half of the group actually got in the water.  

For those Bill Cosby fans out there, you might recall a certain story of his titled Niagara Falls.  To summarize, he and his wife go swimming there, he dives in, not considering the fact that the water is runoff off melted snow, and as he describes it, the freezing water turns his body into a giant goose-pimple.  I now know what that feels like and I sympathize with you Bill, where ever you are.  Stepping into that water was like.... stepping into really cold water.  But I wasn't about to miss out on this opportunity so I dunked myself under and got the worse part over with.  I found that that, along with a lot of screaming, really helps.  Everyone in the water was screaming their heads off... now that I think about it, that's probably why the others weren't so keen on joining us...  Regardless, eventually our bodies numbed to the cold and it was actually quite a delightful swim.  But we were smart, and before  there was even a risk of hypothermia, we dried off and resumed our hike feeling fresh, alive, and our senses heightened.

At the top of the waterfall...

...and swimming down under it.

Family photo!

Kissing the Lilies

For those who don't know, a few weeks ago was Holy Week.  On of the best reason for attending BYU Jerusalem during the Winter Semester.

I got to start the week off by participating in the Palm Sunday walk.  After visiting a few sights in the city, Dormition Abbey, Schindler's grave, one of the many spots claiming to be the room where the Last Supper took place, and grabbing a bite of Shawarma, my group made its way to a church where the opening service would occur before the walk began.

In front of the Dormition Abbey w/ Tye

Outside the Upper Room w/ Spencer

Hundreds of pilgrims from all over the world surrounded the church, filling the courtyard and spilling out into the streets.  Everyone either had an olive or palm branch in their hands as we slowly walked to Old Jerusalem, recreating the Savior's grandiose entrance.  There were so many people that the progress was extremely slow, but fun nonetheless.  We walked next to a group from Portugal that loved to sing and dance.  It was a party in the streets.  They strummed the guitar, banged on drums, and sung at the top of their lungs hosanna!  The joy was contagious.  We would not have been able to stop ourselves from joining them even if we wanted to.

Not only did people walk to commemorate the biblical history, but many walked for peace in Israel and Palestine.  Ironically, at the beginning of the walk, a fight between teenage boys broke out right next to me.  As far as I know, none of the walkers were harmed except for being pushed around a bit.  It was an interesting way to start a walk for peace. 

The next day I didn't go out when class was over.  Instead, I gave blood!  This was a first for me people and I'll admit I was rather nervous.  In fact, I couldn't stop laughing throughout the whole process.  Lay out a tray full of shots before me and I wont bat an eye, but giving blood is a tad different.  I wouldn't be surprised if the woman taking my blood thought I was marginally coo-coo in my giggling.  However, there were no hiccups and I was soon allowed to go and eat my way through half the refreshment table.  I figured I earned it.

The rest of the week was filled with filed trips into the city.  We walked all over both the Jewish and Christian quarters, exploring all the different churches.  Church of the Holy Sepulcher will always be one of my favorites. It is so beautiful.  I could never tire of gazing upon all the amazing and detailed mosaics, and the dome has possibly my favorite design out of all the churches that I have seen.  Not only do I love it for it's artistic value, but I find it so wonderful how that one building brings together so many different religions.  The location holds such importance to all of them that they are able to put aside their differences and worship together.

Another stop that we made were the "Steps to the Temple," or so the caption says under the picture in the back of the Bible.  These steps lead up to where the Temple of Herod was and date back to the time of the Savior.  If there is one place where we can say for a certainty that we walked where Jesus walked, this is the place.  Other locations significance are just traditional belief and we don't know the exact routes He might have taken while walking in Jerusalem, but He had to walk up these stairs to teach at the temple.

When American astronaut Neil Armstrong, a devout Christian, visited Israel after his trip to the moon, he was taken on a tour of the Old City of Jerusalem by Israeli archaeologist Meir Ben-Dov. When they got to the Hulda Gate, which is at the top of the stairs leading to the Temple Mount, Armstrong asked Ben-Dov whether Jesus had stepped anywhere around there. 

“I told him, ‘Look, Jesus was a Jew,’” recalled Ben-Dov.
“These are the steps that lead to the Temple, so he must have walked here many times.” 

Armstrong then asked if these were the original steps, and Ben-Dov confirmed that they were. 

“So Jesus stepped right here?” asked Armstrong.
“That’s right,” answered Ben-Dov.
“I have to tell you,” Armstrong said to the Israeli archaeologist, “I am more excited stepping on these stones than I was stepping on the moon.”

Amen to that.

The seperation wall

The rest of the week was filled with more trips to the city, the separation wall of Israel and Palestine, and a tour of the Israel Museum.

There is a charming little nook in the Christian quarter

to sit and enjoy a good discussion with friends in the 

city.  And if you get there early enough, none of the

vendors are there to pester you!

I'm sure you can guess what the highlight of the week was.  Sunday we woke up at a ridiculously early hour in order to walk to the Garden Tomb for a special Easter Service that was broadcasted world-wide.  As we walked through the pitch black city, our only light being the yellow/orange street lamps, I became aware that there was no sign of the clashing cultures I had become accustom to.  The city was completely still but for the mass of BYU students, dressed in church attire, whispering in tired excitement to one another.  It was as though the city itself knew the sacredness of the day, and for that time, the city was ours.  Not the Muslims, not the Jews, but the Christians (LDS included...duh).

Before the service began.   Dawn was just beginning to break

Walking into the garden was like stepping out of Israel and into the Bible belt south.  It was filled to the brim with those who had come from all across the world to worship and they were all singing Christian rock at the top of their lungs.  A live band played right next to the tomb and I was taken back to my days working at The Clay Chameleon (a paint your own pottery studio).  My employers were very devout Christians and often played Christian rock on the radio in the studio.

I had never been to a service of a different religion before, and it was very interesting to note the differences and similarities.  

All in all, it was a beautiful Easter morning.  The garden flowers were blooming and the the morning sun streamed through the leaves in the trees.  It was easy to imagine the grand splendor of that first Easter morning so long ago.  Doesn't that sound like the perfect Easter?  But wait, it gets better...

As some of you may know, I had a personal goal that by the end of my time here at the Jerusalem Center I would have made a decision as to wether or not I'd serve a mission.  I was starting to get worried because the end of the semester was coming up fast and I still wasn't sure of anything.  But making a wonderful day even sweeter, I received an answer at the Garden Tomb.  It was so perfect I couldn't stop smiling the rest of the day.  Now I'm thrilled to let you all know that when I return to the U.S. in two weeks, I will start my papers to become a missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.

About a week before, while out in the city, my roommate Paige bought some lilies to decorate our room for Easter.  Although the man who sold them to her said that they would open before Easter Sunday, several days went by without any change.  Worried that the three little flowers would never open, we decided that all they needed was a little extra love and motivation.  So every morning and night we would each kiss the lilies one by one, whispering words of encouragement to them.  While it was a fun little roommate ritual that we joked about with others, we secretly hoped that it would help our dear flowers bloom.  Yet Saturday came and went and the lilies were still sealed shut.

We each kissed the lilies as usual when we walked out of our room Sunday morning.  A bit of disappointment settling in our hearts.  But reaching the Garden Tomb they were soon forgotten.  Imagine my delight to then return, after such an amazing, life changing morning, to find our flowers in bloom.  It was the sweet frosting on a most delicious cake.  My Easter was complete.  It's going to be really difficult to top it next year.

I love my life.  But I know that the only reason I do is because I have a knowledge of this amazing and wonderful gospel.  It makes my life hold so much more wonder, excitement, and meaning and that is why I love it so much.  I have been so blessed to be here in the Holy Land and learn about Christ's life and ministry right where it all happened.  I have always loved mission work and am so excited (and terrified) to go out and spread this glorious gospel on a mission of my own.  Wish me luck!

Octopus's Garden

The mural is complet!!!

We went back last Monday (the 18th) and for about four strait hours painted our little hearts out.  For some it might sound like a long time of tedious work, but I always find it relaxing.  I put on my beats by dre, listen to some music, and I'm in the zone.  People can't really talk to me once I get into an art project.  I become unresponsive and solely focused on whatever I'm creating.  If you do try to talk to me, my response is sluggish for it takes some time for my brain to transfer out of art mode and into... well, whatever mode people are normally in.  I just prefer to stay in the world of creativity.  It's nice there.

A few of the images that I solely created (after being designed by Lindsay) are a few of the flowers,  the orange butterfly on the right side, and the BYU signature.  While painting the butterfly I had flashbacks to Arkansas and watching my mom and Grandma Nut painting butterflies in my purple room.  They were so beautiful and one of the hardest things to leave behind when we moved.  I remember staring at all the detail in each butterfly, not knowing if I would ever be able to make something so lovely but wanting to desperately.  Then I finished the butterfly, and was jolted out of my flashback by a Michael Jackson hit.

"Mormon Shepherds Field"

Bethlehem 

That next Tuesday we had a field trip to Bethlehem, something I have been looking forward to the whole semester.   We went to the Herodion, Church of the Nativity, Manger Square, Orthodox Shepherds Field, Catholic Shepherds Field, and "Mormon Shepherds Field."

While all the sites were beautiful and had interesting background, none of them produced an overwhelming spiritual experience.  Despite the fact that each of these sites have traditional history, it's highly unlikely that they really are the places where Christ's manger was, or where the shepherds bones are buried.  It's a nice thought, but that's all it is.  

The best part of the day (besides lunch with hummus) was going to the "Mormon Shepherds Field" which is just a random field.  But there, when combined with singing of hymns, testimony bearing, scripture study, and personal pondering time, one can get a better understanding of that holy night then all those other sights combined.

@ The Herodian

Right before we jumped off the dock and into the Red Sea

Eilat

That thursday we went snorkeling in the Red Sea.  It was sort of cool I guess.  It was a four hour drive to get to Eilat, so we were all pumped and ready to go when we finally arrived.  I became a look-a-like for Wednesday from the Adam's Family with my pale skin, black swimsuit, and dark hair.  I only broke character when I smiled, laughed, or got really excited... which was all the time.  Sorry Wednesday.

One of my favorite fish in the sea.
It was "painted with soda bottle caps.

The sun felt amazing.  I could have laid on that beach all day, but it was either that or swimming with fish amongst beautiful corals.  Guess which one I picked.

I snorkeled as though I had gills.  It was incredible.  At first I avoided diving deeper for fear of breathing in water, but after receiving a few pointers I took a chance and dove deep.  It was incredible!  Swimming across the coral reef I saw the real life.  The orange, red, and purple coral breathed before my eyes.  I floated amongst large schools of fish and every time I glided across the reefs I felt as though I had become a leading role in Finding Nemo II (don't get your hopes up, it doesn't exist).

I got so wrapped up in my underwater exploration I lost track of time and had to change fast so that we could go into the city.  In doing so I found out that one of the girls in our group had slipped on the dock and broken her ankle/foot and another had been stung by a Jelly fish.  What a day!  And it wasn't even over.

And the homesickness was gone

Going into the city we perused the mall where I made the most marvelous discovery.  In the midst of all the Israel and Arabic music, displayed as though it was waiting for me to come find it, sat a Duran Duran CD.  Oh it is a wonderful world we live in, and 80's music brings us together.

We didn't venture far from the mall because we had little time before we had to leave for dinner at a kibbutz.  After a little nudging by yours truly, we strolled over and looked at the fish statues.  They randomly populated a tiny park and were each painted in a unique way.

Dinner was great, the drive back was equally long as the day and I couldn't wait to hit the sack and dream of Nemo, Darla, and sea anemones.

Life = Good   

1.  If you didn't catch the Beatles reference in the title you should go, repent, and listen to Yellow Submarine.

2.  My apologies for being so far behind.  I promise I'm trying to catch up!