Whitten’s “Shadows Taller Than Our Souls.”

What if it hadn’t rained that day?

Would Christa Whitten be the artist she is now?

Would she still conjure meditative, otherworldly watercolors?

Luckily, we don’t have to ask those questions, because it did rain that day.

Whitten’s primary goal as a young artist was to capture realistic landscapes. That’s why when she was in high school, she traveled from her home in Plainville, CT, to England: to paint that nation’s lakes. But then came the rain, and teenage frustration.

“I was itching to paint, so it’s like ‘Alright, I don’t care, I’m just going to whip out my paints and set up my easel.” Something new and uncanny emerged from her that day: an abstract. “It was such a cathartic experience. It was such an emotive experience,” Whitten recalled. “I fell in love.”

Whitten has since dedicated her skills to engaging internal landscapes

“I want to give people space to pause, go internal and really see what’s actually happening, and why.”

It’s about ‘world-building,’ she said during our time together at Suffield’s Kent Memorial Library on a cold, fall day.

“It’s about understanding who you really are at your core. How do you want to interact with the world? What kind of world do you want to make, and what are the next steps to do that?”

“Reverent” is the word that comes to my mind when thinking about Whitten’s work.

One, “Shadows Taller Than Our Souls,” consists of three elevated sets of trail markers; behind them, their enlarged silhouettes in bright colors that to me read like religious totems.

Whitten’s series “Gateways to Places We Cannot Go” features spirtually sites restricted to women, such as the Sabarimala Pathinettapadi in India, obscured by chromatic hazes. Are these heavenly vapors or poisonous gas? Either way, they’re lovely.

Whitten’s creative practice mirrors her work: “Meditation became an integral part of the process. I sit in front of the work and ask, ‘What is it that you need from me today? What is it that I can bring? Where are we going today?’”

The act of creation becomes an act of respect and generosity: “[My art] stems from this lineage of wanting to connect to something very special and deep,” she said.

“Wanting to connect to his reverence… How do I help people have that same experience? That for me is super important: giving people a place to pause and take the time to think and take the time to go inward; to really get introspective and to give yourself the time.”

If you think this all sounds hippy-dippy-silly, consider a stranger’s reaction to a Whitten’s abstract: “That’s where I go in my dreams,” and she bought it on the spot.

So, does Whitten believe she depicted the buyer’s dream space? “I don’t know. What I would like to be true is that whatever was sending me those energies was also tapping into whatever universal energy that gives her access to her dream space.”

Humans are “resonant beings,” said Whitten. “We can choose to tap into and receive those energies around us or not, but I think there is an entire ecosystem beyond us that we can choose to tap into.”

For people who are unaccustomed to looking at art or who are unsure what Whitten means about “looking inside yourself,” she had these soothing words: “At the end of the day, looking at art isn’t a complex endeavor. You’re just seeing how it makes you feel, and, no, it’s not always going to make you feel anything.”

If you feel nothing, move on to the next – but when something sings to you, listen.