I painted my first picture at five years old ( three years after this photo was taken in my favorite place on Earth, Lake Luzerne in the foothills of the Adirondack Mountains) in colored chalk on a blackboard hung on the wall opposite my bed. Now, ever so slightly more than fifty years later, I have rediscovered the pure joy of smearing dry color across a surface.
I paint intuitively and quickly, so watercolor, pastel, and acrylic are my chosen media.
I offer my vision and whatever ability I have to translate energy into shape and color to the Divine.
I once went with a friend to hear the grand diva, Jessye Norman, sing at a venue so small that we could see the beads of sweat on her forehead without benefit of opera glasses. During intermission, my friend and I turned to each other, awestruck at the Presence that still enveloped us. "What music she creates," I said. "I am barely aware of her - only the music."
"That's because when she sings, she is music," my friend said.
When I am creating with my wings unfurled, I know that I am art.
My best work - whether it's creating paintings, essays or meals - is intuitive. I approach a piece knowing that it already exists somewhere, and what I need to do is to allow it to appear. Something flows through me and out my fingers for which I take only the credit for getting out of the way and knowing how to manage the media. In these moments, I am aware that I am in the altered state of consciousness I call Heaven. I hear - and sometimes sing - beautiful melodies; my left hand (I am right-handed) sometimes flutters or waves with the energy of Faery. Sometimes I am aware of unseen observers and guides. Sometimes I receive direct, clear, verbal suggestions to use specific colors, to extend a line here or curve a line there.
The signature I use on my paintings came to me one winter night after artist friends chided me for not signing my name to my artwork. "You need to sign your work!" they chorused. I felt that my name interfered with the energy flow the painting expressed. Later that night, as I stood outside on the porch waiting for my dog to return from his errand, I asked All That Is to send me a signature. Immediately I felt and obeyed an urge to lean forward and trace something with my finger in the snow. It was a symbol that felt powerful, grounded, soaring, and mine. And rather than interfering with my work, I feel it seals it the way "Amen" seals a prayer.
Leiah Bowden (in this picture, and for many years after, she was known as Bobbie but now uses the name that feels more like who she really is -- Leiah) is a lifelong meditator, self-taught, intuitive artist and visionary. She accesses a realm where our souls are unveiled, and from within a light trance state, creates these spiritual Energy Portraits in pastels as commissioned works of art and healing tools. Each Energy Portrait comes with guidance from the subject's and Leiah's higher Self, angelic being, and off-planet intelligence.
In addition to serving as individual tools for healing and personal growth, these remarkable images illustrate the shamanic origin of the crowns, helmets, headresses, and other ritual and costume elements that have come down to us from ancient civilizations.
