Guided

A Beautiful Lady, a comforting vision and a surprising detail led this artist to a spiritual discovery

- Star Saint Claire

ANGELS ARE A FAVORITE subject of mine when I paint. But the one I was about to create was special. Gazing at the blank canvas in front of me, I pictured the image in my mind and remembered the first time I had seen her. The woman I referred to as the Beautiful Lady.

It was 1966. My family lived in Seattle, in a pale green wooden house perched halfway up a hill. I was five years old, making mud pies in our yard. To me, the place was magical. Sitting in the square of green velvet grass bordered by red roses and a stone retaining wall felt like being in a secret garden in a fairy tale.

I patted my mud pie, smoothing it into shape. The air grew strangely still. I sensed something nearby. I couldn’t say what. I left my mud pies baking on a sun-warmed tree stump and wandered to the stone wall. From my perch I could peer down on the street below.

Walking serenely up the sidewalk was a lovely Asian woman. She was dressed in a traditional kimono, though at the time I didn’t know what her dress was called. I just knew it was beautiful, made of flowing silk and covered in big watercolor flowers in purples, pinks and blues.

Her face was a perfect oval, pale and still as the moon. Her feet and hands were hidden in the folds of her kimono so that she almost seemed to glide up the street. She didn’t notice me. Her gaze stayed fixed straight ahead. As she passed below I was surprised to see painted chopsticks holding up her shiny black hair.