Berenice Couturier November 18, 2019 Mandala Coloring Pages
But when we pick a Mandala coloring design and begin coloring, something wonderful happens. Simple hand movements allow energy to flow from us unto the page. Easy subconscious choices of colors express pent-up emotions. Fleeting feelings and half-formed thoughts are poured silently into the endless circle. The Mandala takes it all in. No resistance, no objection. A heavy burden is lifted from our minds and is transferred, transcended, consumed without effort by the Mandala.
There is simply something freeing about coloring mandalas. Their symmetry provides a certain amount of comfortable rhythm and predictability, and yet no two people will color them exactly the same way. Even if you don’t quite know why mandala designs appeal to you or what you hope to gain while coloring them, get your colored pencils, crayons or markers ready and dive in. Before you know it, something inside you will shift, and you will have discovered another tool for enhancing your life.
And don’t forget about fruit as creative inspiration. You can see obvious mandalas when you cut citrus fruit in half. The segments of fruit surround a central stem and the seeds form additional decoration. Looking at a strawberry from the top down reveals a radiating pattern of seeds on a luscious bright red background.
This is just one way that drawing mandalas has opened up insights into my personal process, and helped me find appreciation for where I am in each phase of my life’s journey. It’s a big part of why I dearly love drawing my own mandalas, rather than buying ones that others have made. It’s a precious gift, to receive insight into ourselves. Try it yourself, and let the mandalas introduce you to the hidden beauty and potential within you!
There was a period of time, for instance, when I always started drawing my mandalas in the center, creating a pattern there. Then I would go to the outside edge, and work in towards that center. But often I could find no way to connect the two. In all my mandalas from this time period, there was a big gap in the drawing, between the core and the outer edge. This confused and frustrated me for months, but eventually I came to see that this was a perfect depiction of my life at that time.
It didn’t have anything to do with my skill level or the objective beauty of the mandala, because in hindsight I could see that some were more visually pleasing than others, and not always the most recent were the best. But that didn’t matter when they were new. Every new mandala drawing seemed the most wonderful creation yet. It didn’t have anything to do with the "artistic process" either. I had wondered whether it’s normal to love something you make, at first, but this certainly isn’t true for other things I do, like writing. Nor do my artist friends experience this "love at first sight" with their work.