How to Draw God
Last week I was walking across campus with a friend and colleague, Terry Martin who teaches art at William Woods University. Terry was telling me a fascinating story about a autistic girl in one of his past art classes. Young Katherine had sketched a spiral pattern on paper and when Terry asked her to talk about it, she said it was a picture of God. The point in the center of the page meant that God is the smallest of all things. The spiraling line extending off the page meant that God is bigger than all things.
The child’s insights are profound. For as long as people have thought about these things, they have used spatial metaphors to stress both God’s transcendence and God’s immanence. God is the great, mysterious “Other”, the Holy One who is high above the heavens, “in light inaccessible hid from our eyes.” God is more than our eyes can behold and unlike anything else we can know or experience. And yet, and yet….God is near to us. He is present and in the neighborhood. The God who is big enough to fill all in all is all big enough to become small. Taken together, the insights suggest that God is both without and within and that faith needs both a telescope and a microscope. Now, how do you draw that?
Follow the lead of a little girl. When Terry told me this story, a flurry of biblical texts came to mind. Isaiah, the Hebrew prophet said so long ago, a “little child shall lead them.” Jesus reminded us centuries later, “unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven” and “out of the mouth of infants and nursing babies you have prepared praise.”
Or take Picasso who is reported to have said, “"It took me four years to paint like Raphael; it took me a lifetime to learn to paint like a child."
The original sketch is long since gone but I encouraged Terry to paint a piece in tribute to the little girl. Here is Terry’s artwork and what follows is the story in his own words.
The Saturday art class was a mix of all ages, the youngest student was named Katherine, and she was about thirteen years old and was autistic. Others members of the class were older adults, eight female, two male, all eager to learn new artistic skills so they might enrich their retirement years. The mother of young Katherine went to school with me and knew I was investing some volunteer time teaching art to autistic kids. She was sure the Saturday morning summer workshop would be good for Katherine. I hoped mother and daughter would not be disappointed!
I was concerned the class might be too advanced and the older adult students might intimidate Katherine. My concern increased when I tried to introduce the students to one another and Katherine visibly withdrew, making little or no eye contact with the rest of us. I introduced myself to the class and showed some examples of the abstract style of painting we would be doing. I shared with the class some examples of my art. I followed up with a demonstration of some basic acrylic painting techniques and in the process, I made eye contact with all the students except my youngest student. She had withdrawn to the end of the third table in the room. It was a table used mostly for supplies. Some of the older women had tried to talk to Katherine, with little response from the thirteen year old. They did not know she was autistic, I did not tell them. I allowed them to believe she was shy, it might have been a mistake I am not sure. Katherine seemed content to flip through her sketch book and occasionally sketch; yet I did not want to neglect her, so I made every effort to include her in the relaxed process of painting and talking mostly about art and travels. The day progressed and soon it was time for a lunch break. Most of the students brought brown bag lunches. Katherine’s mother had packed a lunch for her and I noticed the lunch contained a big red apple. I sat by her and opened my sack lunch, talking to her in the process. As she began to eat, I followed suit and a few words were exchanged. This was the opportunity to ask if I could see her sketch book. In contrast to the older students who brought all kinds of expensive paint brushes and supplies, she had only a drawing tablet and a pencil. But, what a sketch book it was! I was amazed by the imaginative drawings and fantastic science fiction type images in the pages of her book. Some of the other students also began to notice her art and with just a slight smile she seemed pleased. After lunch we returned to the morning’s effort, paintings began to take form and some constructive criticism was exchanged. Katherine was back at the unoccupied third table pretty much removed from the exchange, but somehow a little more connected to our newly formed artistic community.
More determined to draw her into the community, I asked what she was drawing. The tablet was almost filled and I did not know how many pages were added during my class, I saw her flip over another page and place her pencil firmly down in the middle of the page. Then I watched her make a continuous line from that middle point around and around in a beautifully symmetrical spiral design! Never stopping, but carefully continuing the line she drew until the page was full. I approached her with praise for her spiral design and asked her about the shape. I wondered: could I describe the form and use the word spiral? I was astonished by what she said, when I questioned her about her line drawing! “Well, (she exclaimed in a voice loud enough for students away from her table to notice), this is like GOD, the tiniest of all things (she pointed to the point where she first started drawing the line) and too big to fit on the page.” Then in the most astonishing way she continued the line off the surface of the page and onto the surface of the table! GOD is too big to fit in my drawing and because GOD is at the same time the smallest of all things, God is everywhere part of in and around everything. The class was silent the chatter gone the moment was profoundly reverent and peaceful. The other students had heard her and watched her make a drawing come to life. The community of artistic spirits was exalted and the class soon concluded. We said goodbye and I knew this had been a special art class!
The years have passed and Katherine is grown now, but I still teach art classes to autistic youths and have met other special students who are creative and special in their own ways. These students often possess unique insights and inspire me as Katherine did. I think of Josh, and Ariel who painted with me last summer.
These special students can illuminate us with their imagination and creativity if we get to know them better.
