At long last, the first completed puzzle—the extra piece belonged along the bottom edge. Oh, and the dog ate one of the pieces from the center of the puzzle, when the piece fell on the floor, that’s why there’s one missing…
Prior to the pandemic, jigsaw puzzles had a very specific time and place: on vacations, with lots of family, they were a way to be occupied just enough for conversations to blossom, and to stave off boredom if it was too rainy for the beach…
All that changed with the pandemic too.
At the beginning of the shutdown, I pulled out a 1000 piece puzzle of paintings by Vincent van Gogh. I began the puzzle, as always, by putting together all the pieces that had flat sides to create the outer perimeter. Problem was that when the perimeter was put together, one piece with a flat side was left. There was no obvious place for it anywhere. Everything seemed to fit--with one piece left over. So I set it aside and kept going, trusting that the place where it belonged would become clear.
Working that puzzle became an art lesson as I scrutinized puzzle pieces, examining and comparing colors, shapes, brushwork, composition. As painting after painting within the puzzle came together, I grew more confused about the one piece that didn’t fit. But the words “trust the process” came to mind. Joining piece after piece, one by one, step by step, the process of creating continued.
And then, at last, the one spot that was not connected quite correctly revealed itself, and the one stray piece with the flat side fit in.
Such triumph! Fulfillment. Right-ness.
What was needed revealed itself in the moment that was right. And I realized that this-- taking the next obvious step while waiting for the revelation to the hidden question -- THIS was “trusting the process”. In one of the most tangible ways possible, doing puzzles showed me how “trusting the process” truly works.
And this is how I have to paint. Putting down the next brushstroke, finding the next color, attempting, adjusting, examining, just like with a puzzle, trusting the process.
The van Gogh puzzle was only the first-- as the pandemic has worn on, I’ve since completed a diabolically difficult Monet, an even more complex Singer Sargent, and am now at work on a Dutch still life by Van Dael. With each of them, I re-learn the lesson of trusting the process.
The current puzzle in process—you can see how I group pieces together on little paper plates, I’ve gotten very methodical in my methods! And did you know the Spanish word for puzzle is “rompecabezas”? That literally means “head-breaking”—yup, I get it!