questions...

There are those things we want answers to, the ones that make no sense. The events and situations that come into our lives that only happen to others. What do we do when realities crash upon us that leave us without understanding, sometimes without hope. Moments stretch out into an unreal experience that we cannot wake up from. Any nightmare would be better than the pain of living in the reality before us. Tears sting like alcohol, words do not come forth, grief compresses the heart, darkness shadows the brightest of noonday suns. To truly feel the loss, to embrace what is unthinkable, to mourn deeply and honestly, to ever enjoy life again, this is a road less traveled.

Evening

Late in the day, as it begins to cool from the intense August heat, a time of transition begins. New sounds from insects chorus in the shrubs, a breeze flows up the river bed and rustles the palm branches, the light softens. Life is like this, the intensity of difficult times begin to ease up, an awareness of new possibilities enter our thoughts, relief comes like the cooling air of early evening. We need to pay attention, there is so much to see, to hear, to touch, to embrace, to mourn.

Weed and feed

Our souls are at their best when we tend them like a garden. A garden is a living thing, in need of regular attention. The dead leaves need to be raked into the compost area, weeds pulled, soil turned, seeds planted, shrubs trimmed, and fertilizer applied. The best soul fertilizer is the s--t that happens in our lives. When it is turned in with the soil, it is transformed into life-giving nutrients. Why let it stink up our lives when it can be used to make things better. It is empowering to use the hurt, the disappointments, the tragedies and the daily difficulties as the richest fertilizer available for a healthy life. So when things go bad, use it for making the garden of your soul more beautiful. Get a shovel and start today!

Fear of goodness

It is one of those strange, irrational human behaviors. The looking into the rearview mirror, expecting to see the front end of a MAC truck ready to ram into your backside, right when the view in front is breathtaking. More than that, it is a vista sought after for years and finally when the chance to view it arrives, fear of a disaster looms, marring the longed for event. Fear is not so much the problem, but rather the cause for doubting the blessing that lies ahead, and opening up the possibility of self sabotage. We are so often our worst enemy. We seek out what is best and when it comes, we suspect it will be taken away, so we undo the gift in the name of fear. To receive the abundance that comes after years of travail is sometimes more difficult than we can predict. Life is best lived open-handed, ready to give and to receive.

Time and momments

Too many days have slipped away in the connected momments of interaction. Conversations, meals, critiques and lectures have filled the past four weeks. The space to write was lost in the rich personal flood of realationships deepened and new born. This is but a brief window of a momment to reflect on the recent space of time.

Re-enchantment of hope

Art made with a sense of hope provides a potent factor at the deepest levels of an artist's consciousness, since hope radically alters one's inner intention and feeling of purpose. (Gablik, 1991) Now may the God of all hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you will abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. (Letter to the Christians in Rome 15:13) v. to have a wish for something to be true. n. a feeling that something desirable is likely to happen. n (archaic) a feeling of trust.

As people of faith, we have hope in the Divine, we have hope in the power of goodness, we have hope in the positive transformation of people's lives, we have hope in a beter future and a more fulfilled present.

As artists, we have hope that our work will make a difference, we have hope that the time in our studios brings honor to the God we serve, we have hope that the success we experience rests in the hands of someone greater than ourselves, we have hope that a life spent in service to the materials and people of art is of value.

Hope.

Blindness in the midst

It was at the end a very difficult day that clarity struck with a vengeance. The moment when the day could have shifted out of hyperdrive and into a calm flow of work that both invigorated and "made a difference." The light shown upon the email like it was radiant with warning and advice. The words spoke of acceptance and embracing the results of the machine of command that grinds onward in spite of what may be right or fair. The bigger picture of institutional culture moves forward like a steam roller over voices of quiet and distressed concern. Taking a deep breadth of remorse and planning out next steps focused on the larger engagement of interactions brings some relief from the blindness. Seeing clearly allows for a different future and a letting go of the past, not in defeat, but rather with a learned understanding of the signs to look for right before the bicycle leans too far and the ground sweeps up to meet me.