The Light Within Pain: A Prayer Through Art

The Light Within Pain: A Prayer Through Art

I plan to write a lot today. Lately, I’ve been writing more than usual—perhaps because I want to speak to the warm, kind people who are connected to me. To those who love painting, who understand the language of art.
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It’s been a few sad and dark days. But maybe these feelings fit the approaching Halloween season, don’t they? Now, I feel as though I’m slowly emerging from a nightmare—like I’m walking through a dark tunnel and beginning to see light ahead. I even managed to sleep a little recently, and today I actually ate properly. Why is that, I wonder?
This morning, I cried while driving. I felt something inside me—resentment, frustration, confusion. My mother’s illness, the falling autumn leaves, the provocations from my neighbor… everything felt tangled and heavy.
Then I went to the gallery to deliver my four paintings for the “Small but Mighty” exhibition. My dear and respected director, Miss Allison, greeted me warmly as always. Just seeing her gives me strength. I think I received good energy from her today.
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And yesterday, at church, I was embraced and encouraged by kind people. I also received comfort from my friend Freya, who always offers me spiritual advice and lives as a model of faith.
Before leaving the gallery, I decided to look for one of my paintings that had been sold—to see where it was displayed. I couldn’t attend the reception, so I hadn’t seen it yet. I walked around searching, but I couldn’t find it at first. Then, as I turned a corner, I saw something shining. The light was coming from the very spot where my painting was hanging.
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It felt as though light was radiating from the painting itself.
For a moment, I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me.
But as I looked closely, I felt something indescribable--
a wave of comfort, a sense of warmth and light.
What was that light?
What was that warmth I felt?
Was it the reflection of the golden frame?
Perhaps. But as I stood there, I felt something more.
It suddenly saddened me that this painting, though created by my own hands, was no longer mine to see—it now belonged to someone else.
Ah… how dazzlingly beautiful it was.
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When I painted it, and even when I hung it, I never realized how radiant it was.
But now, after enduring so much inner pain, I saw the light in it clearly.

I remembered something that happened 15 years ago, at my first exhibition in Germany.
A visitor approached me and said,
“Anna, your paintings seem to shine. I can feel the light from them.”
I thanked her for her kind words, but she shook her head and said,
“No, really—it’s not a compliment. Your paintings truly shine. Thank you.”
Today, that memory came back to me.
Ah… that person must have suffered deeply too, just like I have.
Only now do I truly understand what she meant.
I wish I could tell her that I’m sorry for not understanding then,
and thank her for saying those words to me.
Now I understand what that light was.
It was the light that appears when a heart in pain desperately reaches out for comfort--
When, in the darkness, one grasps at even the faintest glimmer of hope.
I will continue to paint.
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Dear God, please grant more light to my work.
Let it bring comfort, love, and peace
to those whose hearts are in unbearable pain.