The Artist Date is a dream-child of Julia Cameron. We’ve discussed her book, The Artist’s Way, and highly recommend both the book and the weekly date. It can be life-changing. It can open your creativity like nothing else. On this date, we explore a state capitol and see what its history can tell us.
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My steps fall silently on earth softened by recent showers. A quiet breeze stirs the trees and the air is thick with the clean scent of more rain to come. The legislative session must have ended, I think, because nary a soul but me ghosts through the yard’s rich shade.
I wander the grounds of the capitol plaza for an hour, running my hands over the rough bark of deciduous sentinels and studying the way the light falls through a canopy of leaves. Buff limestone peers at me through that chiaroscuro—a stony face with so many windowed eyes. I squint at the gold of the capitol rotunda and feel a pull to stare up into its domed belly from the inside. So I find the steps that ascend the portico and count them as I go: forty-seven.
“West Virginia is the child of divorce, ” Mrs. Young told us in eighth grade history class. “When the Civil War tore the nation apart, eastern and western Virginia decided it best to part ways.”
I remember how I sat in the front row and swallowed hard—the ink on my parents’ divorce papers still fresh. As my teacher spoke of the “impenetrable barrier” of the Blue Ridge and Allegheny Mountains between eastern and western Virginia, the barriers separating my family loomed large.
A child of divorce. This is what I’ve always named myself.
Now, I sit high on the capitol steps and look out over the Kanawha River and wonder about emancipation and cultural divides and the isolation that a rugged terrain bestows upon a people. Is this how it feels to be rootbound? Is it possible to get so tangled in our beginnings that we fail to reach wide and deep enough to break into the nourishing soilbed?
The capitol complex hums with anticipation and when I slip in through the heavy wooden doors I see why. This summer West Virginia celebrates 150 years of statehood. Elegant signs on prominent display invite the public to the sesquicentennial party: one hundred fifty years. How much time does it take to carve out a new identity?
I search through halls with high-domed ceilings for any clue to the making of me. I find my grandfather’s story there; feel his hands sculpt my future with a coal pick. Between those marbled corridors I can hear the song of the earth—the voices of generations of farmers who tilled the land. These roots tendril deep into my soul and I see how they feed.
I wonder about this place called Appalachia. How a place born in contention can grow into something so singular—so beautiful. I lean against cool marble and stare up. The very center of the rotunda is a blue so deep it feels like midnight. From the center of the dome on a fifty-four-foot gold chain hangs a four thousand pound chandelier made of beveled crystal.
I carry that image of light in the center of darkness with me back outside under the quick-disappearing blue. The clouds roll in fast as I descend the portico steps. On the plaza below I find Abraham Lincoln Walks at Midnight—a casting of the original sculpture inspired by the Vachel Lindsay poem of the same name. Abe and I gaze at the Kanawha River as a tug struggles upstream with a barge heavy-laden with coal.
Image by Simon & His Camera. Used with permission. Post by Laura Boggess of The Wellspring.
Browse more Artist Dates.
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- Year of the Monarch: Butterfly Dreams - March 20, 2024
- Year of the Monarch: Harvesting and Planting Milkweed Seeds - November 15, 2023
Monica Sharman says
Laura, I read this twice (so far) and found it richer than that yard’s shade. So much resonates.
My bedtime read-aloud with my two older sons is Shelby Foote’s Civil War. We’re in volume one, and I just read about the beginnings of West Virginia.
That fresh ink. Isolation bestowed. Tangled beginnings. Chiaroscuro. How long to carve…? The coal, and again the coal.
And I always count steps.
laura says
The beautiful thing about making the time for these artist dates, Monica, is that I go expecting one thing and leave with something entirely unexpected awakening inside. Does that happen to you also? It keeps surprising me, though I should be accustomed to it by now. Thank you for your kind words. I hope we get to count steps together one day.
L. L. Barkat says
why do we count steps? I want to know 🙂 I mean, I don’t know if I really do it, but I know that one of my girls does.
and I never get what I thought I’d get either. Perhaps that is what puts the Art in the Artist Date 🙂
Monica Sharman says
Maybe the step counting thing is…ritual. 🙂
Laura says
For me, counting has moved from a method of distraction to a habit now. But this time, I looked up and wondered how many steps there were. And would the number mean anything? I was kind of hoping there were 35, since we were the 35th state in the union. I thought maybe there was a message in those steps.Especially with Abe Lincoln at the bottom. But I haven’t figured it out yet.
deidra says
I count everything. I think it’s a thing.
Monica Sharman says
Yes, it sure does happen to me. And goes to show how great the artist date is. How much I would miss otherwise!
Diana Trautwein says
I have always counted steps! OCD? Who knows? It’s how I got into my current prayer ‘routine,’ actually. I walk large circles around my yard, round and round. 85-90 steps in a circle, 36 circles = 1.5 miles. And I ask God for names/faces/situations and as they rise before me, I say, “Mercy, Lord,” or “Thank you, Lord.” In many ways, this is one of the richest prayer disciplines I’ve ever experienced. And it started with counting steps. Who knew?
Maureen Doallas says
A beautiful and skillful weaving of the personal and the historical. Lovely how you place yourself in “place” and find meaning.
laura says
Thank you, Maureen. It was a special date for me. I will probably go back with my boys some time this summer. I think they might leave with some new things to think about too.
Will Willingham says
Was feeling the weight of fifty four feet of chain and four thousand pounds of chandelier.
Funny, since it seems it should be light. 😉
Love this piece, Laura.
Laura says
If you felt that weight, then you felt what I felt :). It was heavy. But bright.
Ann Kroeker says
Laura, you inspire me to look more closely at my own state’s history because my roots are shoved down into the soil of this place, whether I want them to be or not. I’ve always dreamed of moving someplace else, but here I am, after all these years. Same place. Since I seem to be staying put, I might as well try to find clues to the making of me.
laura says
I think I take this beautiful state I live in for granted. I remember once meeting a group of engineers who were old classmates from Purdue who spent their two weeks of annual vacation time every year camping and white-water rafting in WV. Shocking. But then, maybe I should spend more time on the river. Maybe there are more clues to the roots there…
Dolly@Soulstops says
Dear Laura,
This question resonates with me: “How much time does it take to carve out a new identity?” Thank you for sharing a little bit of your roots. Our daughter recently had to write about our family’s history in California. Her dad’s family traces its roots to California since 1849. As always, it is a pleasure to read your words 🙂
laura says
What a rich history your husbands family must have, Dolly. I find that the more folks stay in a place, the deeper their stories are. Have you found that? And, yes. I still sometimes feel like I’m re-creating myself. I’m growing to see this as a good thing, though. Thanks for stopping in, my friend. I love seeing you here.
Mia says
Dear Laura
I am so sorry that you had to go through the terrible pain of the divorce of your parents as a child! Yes, your country’s war between the North and the South was also very heartbreaking. But I know you walk with your Lord every day and you are certain of the truth that He will never leave you or forsake you.
Much love XX
Mia
laura says
Thank you, Mia, for your compassionate heart. I have found that this difficult season has grown me in ways that I am now grateful for. Isn’t it beautiful how this happens? Thank you so much for stopping by 🙂
tinuviel says
With Mia, I ache that you had to go through the pain of your parents’ divorce. Your deep compassion and empathy now give me a clue of how much that must have hurt and how it formed you into the beautiful woman you now are.
Your state’s capitol rotunda is beautiful. I’ve never been to West Virginia, but it sounds like a very special part of God’s Creation.
Grace to you, friend.
laura says
Thank you, C., for these kind words. Our capitol is such a lovely piece of architecture. And the grounds are a welcoming presence too. It was a special day for me, wandering around and thinking deep things. 🙂
Diana Trautwein says
Love this, Laura. Thank you for it.
laura says
Thank YOU, Diana :). Keep counting and praying, friend.
deidra says
The last time we made the drive from Nebraska to Virginia, we took what we call “the southern route” — the one that takes us past the West Virginia state capital. We decided that trip would be our last — no more drives that last more than twelve hours, we told ourselves. Next time, we’ll fly. So, I took a long look at that building as we drove by it. I should have gone inside, but we had to get where we were going, right? I don’t know. You make me think a twelve hour drive isn’t really that bad, after all.
laura says
Some day, I would love to drive across the country at a leisurely pace–stopping wherever the urge strikes and exploring new places. That would be the ultimate Artist’s Date, wouldn’t it?
Megan Willome says
You make me realize it’s been too long since I’ve been in my state capitol. And I would never have thought of it for an Artist’s Date, but for your sweet eyes, Laura.
~ linda says
Laura, this has struck me in such a beautiful way. Your writing is absolutely beautiful. The ceiling, the dome, just moves me. Is it blue marble? Or does the sky shine through those rectangles too? I am in awe of the beauty of it. Even more so, I went outside with you to Mr. Lincoln and then to the poem site and pondered it all. I knew nothing of this statue nor poem until you introduced me here. I learned more about Mr. Lincoln and his quiet depth…our 16th president. Thank you, my sweet Laura. I love your glances into places of art…although many are not just a glance! May your day be blessed. ~ linda