Ganesha Is Talking to Me Again
Ganesha is talking to me again.
I realize that probably sounds a little strange.
I’m not Hindu, and I don’t consider myself religious. If anything, I’d describe myself as spiritual. But for nearly a decade, one figure has had a habit of showing up at pivotal moments in my creative life.
Ganesha.
For anyone unfamiliar with Ganesha: In Hindu tradition, Ganesha is one of the most beloved deities, recognized by his elephant head. He is widely known as the remover of obstacles, the patron of new beginnings, wisdom, learning, and the arts. Many people offer prayers to Ganesha before starting a new journey, project, or chapter in life.
The First Time He Showed Up
I first encountered Ganesha almost ten years ago, just before I opened my first studio.
At the time, I’d been working out of my home and was active in several local artist groups when a friend approached me about taking over her studio space. She wanted to move back home, but she still had six months left on her lease. We worked out the details, and all that remained was for me to fill out an application. If the building manager approved it, the studio was mine.
“That’s My Canvas.”
A few days later, I was sitting in my home studio wondering what I wanted to paint next when an elephant came into my mind.
The whole painting downloaded into my head.
I could see the composition. I knew the colors. I knew exactly what I wanted to create.
Just then, the phone rang.
It was my friend telling me my application had been approved and asking if I wanted to meet her at the studio to pick up the keys.
Of course I did.
On the way, I stopped at Michaels to pick up paint for this elephant that suddenly insisted on existing. As I walked through the canvas aisle, I looked up at a massive 60 x 48-inch canvas that happened to be half price.
A voice in my head simply said:
“That’s my canvas.”
At the time, a canvas that size was well beyond what I would normally buy, even on sale. But I bought it anyway, tied it into the back of my car with the trunk hanging open, and drove it to my new studio, where I signed the paperwork, collected the keys, and officially had a place to make art.
The Elephant Had a Name
That elephant became the very first piece I created there.
It came out of me so naturally that it didn’t feel like I was painting at all. It felt more like I was simply the conduit through which the painting arrived.
As I worked on the quilling, I often took the canvas to local breweries where artists gathered while live music played. During one of those evenings, a friend stopped by and watched me work. He couldn’t stop looking at the piece.
He kept calling it Ganesha.
Eventually he apologized, saying he knew that probably wasn’t my inspiration. But he was from India, and that day happened to be the Hindu celebration of Ganesha’s birthday.
I laughed and told him the story—how suddenly the elephant had appeared in my mind, how I had gotten the studio that very day, and how everything seemed to unfold almost effortlessly.
Then he explained something I didn’t know.
Ganesha is considered the patron of wisdom, learning, and the arts, and perhaps most famously, the remover of obstacles.
That was the moment Ganesha became part of my creative life.
Letting Him Go
That first painting was a huge milestone for me.
It was the largest piece I’d ever attempted, and I never could have painted it if I hadn’t gotten the studio. There simply wasn’t enough room in my house.
But more than that…
It changed something in me.
The painting was bright.
Bold.
Impossible to ignore.
I’d be working in the studio and watch people walk past the door. They’d glance inside, keep walking for a few steps, then stop… back up… and come in for a closer look.
He held people enthralled.
Eventually, a good friend purchased the piece. He was opening a yoga studio and wanted the elephant to greet people as they walked through the front door.
I was happy to sell it.
But I cried when I delivered it.
It felt like saying goodbye to a close friend.
Still, I knew it was time. He’d done what he came into my life to do, and now he needed to go out into the world and do it for someone else.
The Whisper Returns
Over the years, Ganesha has returned from time to time.
Usually when I’m standing at the beginning of something new.
Or when I’ve become stuck.
He whispers in my mind, and before long I find myself wanting to paint elephants again.
Recently, I was inspired to incorporate the form of an elephant into a monotype print. I sketched it out, made a stencil, and started to play.
As the layers built up, I began to see something familiar emerging. It wasn’t the elephant itself that caught my attention—it was the feeling.
That same quiet nudge I’d felt nearly ten years ago.
The same sense that I was standing at the beginning of something new.
So…
Ganesha is talking to me again.
I don’t know exactly what these new elephants will become or where they’ll lead me.
I just know that over the years I’ve learned to pay attention when that familiar whisper returns.
If history is any indication…
Good things are on the horizon.
