beneath the surfacedances the light of the moon
God breathing new life
Words and Image by Roger Hutchison
When To Begin
How do I know when to begin?
When a force is kindled in my heart.
When do I stop work?
When there is a quiet sense of completion.
When a force is kindled in my heart.
When do I stop work?
When there is a quiet sense of completion.
Words and Image by Connie Butler.
Seen above: "Threshold," painted plaster sculpure.
Seen above: "Threshold," painted plaster sculpure.
Lament
The Art Blog at Episcopal Cafe
Lament: The Stations and other Images of the Cross:
A Lenten Exhibition of Woodcut Prints
by Margaret Adams Parker.
Lament: The Stations and other Images of the Cross:A Lenten Exhibition of Woodcut Prints
by Margaret Adams Parker.
Seen above: "to have seen what I have seen" by Margaret Adams Parker, 2006, woodcut over collagraph with Solarplate etchings, 23 x 17 inches. This print is based on the experiences of the artist’s son during his medical school rotation in the psychiatry ward in a VA hospital. Most of his patients were Vietnam veterans, although a few had served in Iraq; however, their common problem was their inability to block out their memories of war.
The title is taken from Shakespeare’s Hamlet. It is a fragment of Ophelia’s lament as she observes Hamlet’s feigned madness: “O, what a noble mind is here o’erthrown…O woe is me/ to have seen what I have seen…” Ironically, while Hamlet is sane, Ophelia herself goes mad.
The title is taken from Shakespeare’s Hamlet. It is a fragment of Ophelia’s lament as she observes Hamlet’s feigned madness: “O, what a noble mind is here o’erthrown…O woe is me/ to have seen what I have seen…” Ironically, while Hamlet is sane, Ophelia herself goes mad.
A Garden Retreat
Quiet safety can be found in the garden retreat of my mind. The garden retreat is that mystical place of untroubled silence, my Sanctuary within. It is the Holy Space where I come to enjoy the cool breeze of the morning, listen to the birds sing their song of greeting. It is my Sheltered Place where I can look up at the rolling clouds and speak to my God with peace.
During that time, I can plant flowers in my garden: the sweet P's of patience, pardon, peace, persistence, piety, poetry, poise, praise, practice, prayer, and psalms. I can smell the sweet fragrance of the thornless roses. I can watch the lilies of the field and the grass without fear of tomorrow's burning drought. I can experience the growth of my soul with wondrous awe and know the true fruit of the spirit will be ready in its time.
During that time, I can plant flowers in my garden: the sweet P's of patience, pardon, peace, persistence, piety, poetry, poise, praise, practice, prayer, and psalms. I can smell the sweet fragrance of the thornless roses. I can watch the lilies of the field and the grass without fear of tomorrow's burning drought. I can experience the growth of my soul with wondrous awe and know the true fruit of the spirit will be ready in its time.
Words by Connie Backus-Yoder
Image by C. Robin Janning
This Art
"In your light I learn how to love.In your beauty, how to make poems.
You dance inside my chest where no one sees you,
But sometimes I do, and that sight becomes this art."
Words by Jalal al-Din Rumi
Image by Virginia Wieringa
Lent Felt Different After That
by Robert Epley
The Engle cemetery is different because it doesn’t have a well kept lawn, busy streets, and a bustling community. And while there isn’t a grave mound or marker for it, Engle itself and its way of life is gone. A way of life with people raising families, working together, and helping each other has ceased to be. The community context for lives is gone. While people died and were buried in the Engle cemetery, so also their community and its way of life died.
Sitting there in the Engle cemetery I became very aware that when I die everything I am doing with family and friends here and now will stop. I won’t be doing these things anymore. The Engle cemetery helped me see more clearly that I will leave behind everything that I am doing in this life. It’s hard to keep this in mind amidst the needs and presses of daily life. This is why I turn to this image for Lenten meditations. It helps me work on keeping all that I do in perspective.
While writing about this image and describing the cemetery, several graves with badly weathered wooden crosses came to mind. For each one, the cross that had been a grave marker is now a simple crucifix. No clues are given about the life of the person whose remains were buried there; except to say that they were given a decent burial. The wooden grave marker as it was changed into a simple crucifix has become an eloquent statement about life after death. As a life ends there is also a new beginning.
Image and Words by Robert Epley, all rights reserved.
I enrolled in a photography class because I didn’t have my own darkroom in our new apartment. With this class there was, of course, a term project. I chose to photograph an abandoned cemetery located in Engle, NM.
Engle had been a thriving community in the early 1900’s when it was a railroad stop for local cattle ranchers. The community is gone and now, only a few buildings remain. The long-abandoned cemetery shows the ravages of time and the natural elements.
When at last I had the pictures that would fulfill the project requirements, I spent some time really seeing what I had been so busy photographing. Several rock mounds didn’t have any markers. Others with metal markers had no discernable information. A few graves had protective fences around them; however, most of these were broken down. Wooden crosses alone marked several graves. Two or three of the headstones had obvious spelling and dyslexic problems. One grave was surrounded by an expensive iron fence that had been shipped in from Ohio.
I spent quite some time at a weed-covered mound of rocks with a wooden crucifix. Several times in the years after doing this project I felt drawn back to this image. I wasn’t sure why until recently, when it suddenly fit together with, “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” Always before this I had understood that death and decay were natural processes. It had even begun to be clear that eventually this would happen to my body. But what thundered in on me as I kept looking at this weedy mound of rocks and weathered cross was not death and the decay of my body.
I have fond memories and a sense of meaning from my parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents. I even have a few material objects that are touchstones for these memories. But of these ancestors as it will be for me, it is only the memories and feelings, the human connections, which will endure. Who these people were for me comes from who their parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents were for them. And so it will be for our children and grandchildren. The affect we have on family, friends and others is all in this life that will endure and have lasting value.
What made the Engle cemetery different than any of the other cemeteries I have visited? A community cemetery is close to the place where people live, work and play. Family and friends of the deceased have their own lives to lead and in due time they carry on. Daily life continues.
Engle had been a thriving community in the early 1900’s when it was a railroad stop for local cattle ranchers. The community is gone and now, only a few buildings remain. The long-abandoned cemetery shows the ravages of time and the natural elements.
When at last I had the pictures that would fulfill the project requirements, I spent some time really seeing what I had been so busy photographing. Several rock mounds didn’t have any markers. Others with metal markers had no discernable information. A few graves had protective fences around them; however, most of these were broken down. Wooden crosses alone marked several graves. Two or three of the headstones had obvious spelling and dyslexic problems. One grave was surrounded by an expensive iron fence that had been shipped in from Ohio.
I spent quite some time at a weed-covered mound of rocks with a wooden crucifix. Several times in the years after doing this project I felt drawn back to this image. I wasn’t sure why until recently, when it suddenly fit together with, “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” Always before this I had understood that death and decay were natural processes. It had even begun to be clear that eventually this would happen to my body. But what thundered in on me as I kept looking at this weedy mound of rocks and weathered cross was not death and the decay of my body.
I have fond memories and a sense of meaning from my parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents. I even have a few material objects that are touchstones for these memories. But of these ancestors as it will be for me, it is only the memories and feelings, the human connections, which will endure. Who these people were for me comes from who their parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents were for them. And so it will be for our children and grandchildren. The affect we have on family, friends and others is all in this life that will endure and have lasting value.
What made the Engle cemetery different than any of the other cemeteries I have visited? A community cemetery is close to the place where people live, work and play. Family and friends of the deceased have their own lives to lead and in due time they carry on. Daily life continues.
The Engle cemetery is different because it doesn’t have a well kept lawn, busy streets, and a bustling community. And while there isn’t a grave mound or marker for it, Engle itself and its way of life is gone. A way of life with people raising families, working together, and helping each other has ceased to be. The community context for lives is gone. While people died and were buried in the Engle cemetery, so also their community and its way of life died.
Sitting there in the Engle cemetery I became very aware that when I die everything I am doing with family and friends here and now will stop. I won’t be doing these things anymore. The Engle cemetery helped me see more clearly that I will leave behind everything that I am doing in this life. It’s hard to keep this in mind amidst the needs and presses of daily life. This is why I turn to this image for Lenten meditations. It helps me work on keeping all that I do in perspective.
While writing about this image and describing the cemetery, several graves with badly weathered wooden crosses came to mind. For each one, the cross that had been a grave marker is now a simple crucifix. No clues are given about the life of the person whose remains were buried there; except to say that they were given a decent burial. The wooden grave marker as it was changed into a simple crucifix has become an eloquent statement about life after death. As a life ends there is also a new beginning.
Image and Words by Robert Epley, all rights reserved.
This Living Water
by Diane Walker
Drink up, my friend —This living water's given for all who grieve.
Words & Image by Diane Walker, all rights reserved.
An Invitation To Renewal
The Art Blog at Episcopal Cafe
"The season of Lent is a time for renewal of our spiritual lives. Consider making a pilgrimage to Trinity Cathedral and experience the beauty and power of this sacred art form. Twenty-three exquisite icons will be on view in Synod Hall between now and the first week of Easter." Read it all HERE.
"The season of Lent is a time for renewal of our spiritual lives. Consider making a pilgrimage to Trinity Cathedral and experience the beauty and power of this sacred art form. Twenty-three exquisite icons will be on view in Synod Hall between now and the first week of Easter." Read it all HERE.
Dissolving Otherness
by Diane Walker
Words & Image by Diane Walker, all rights reserved.
We are Other,
you and I,
yet they are We,
to them.
They are separate,
and yet together;
We are separate from them.
What will it take
for all of us to become We?
A puppy chasing its tail before us
'til we all dissolve in laughter
and the borders dissolve with us?
Or some hideous ball of flame in the distance,
driving us to cling together in fear?
What hand will you extend,
and how will you extend it?
If there is no room to climb the stairs,
What steps will you take?
Who will start to build our circle of trust?
you and I,
yet they are We,
to them.
They are separate,
and yet together;
We are separate from them.
What will it take
for all of us to become We?
A puppy chasing its tail before us
'til we all dissolve in laughter
and the borders dissolve with us?
Or some hideous ball of flame in the distance,
driving us to cling together in fear?
What hand will you extend,
and how will you extend it?
If there is no room to climb the stairs,
What steps will you take?
Who will start to build our circle of trust?
Words & Image by Diane Walker, all rights reserved.
Lent
by Connie Backus-Yoder
The altar frontal above represents the entire season of Lent. At the beginning, our minds are not focused on the serious aspects of our lives when it comes to the darkness that is in our hearts. The fabric is a little flowery and very, very light. Then as the days and weeks progress and we look forrward to Good Friday, we see ourselves in a different light. Still loved by God, and precious apples of His/Her eyes, but as we turn inward we see ways that may not be pleasing to our Loving Father.
Three glimpses of Easter are represented by yellow/gold satin on the Quilt and represent the Trinity. The darkest nights of all is the darkest fabric, which is where the last representation of the Trinity occurs to hearken to His resurrection at Dawn.
The thorns are a copy from the floor of one of the chapels in England, and represent not only the sufferings of our Savior in His precious work on our behalf, but also our own suffering as we apply His principles into our weary, worn lives.
Seen above: Altar Frontal "Lent" by Connie Backus-Yoder
The altar frontal above represents the entire season of Lent. At the beginning, our minds are not focused on the serious aspects of our lives when it comes to the darkness that is in our hearts. The fabric is a little flowery and very, very light. Then as the days and weeks progress and we look forrward to Good Friday, we see ourselves in a different light. Still loved by God, and precious apples of His/Her eyes, but as we turn inward we see ways that may not be pleasing to our Loving Father.Three glimpses of Easter are represented by yellow/gold satin on the Quilt and represent the Trinity. The darkest nights of all is the darkest fabric, which is where the last representation of the Trinity occurs to hearken to His resurrection at Dawn.
The thorns are a copy from the floor of one of the chapels in England, and represent not only the sufferings of our Savior in His precious work on our behalf, but also our own suffering as we apply His principles into our weary, worn lives.
Seen above: Altar Frontal "Lent" by Connie Backus-Yoder
That Which Hides You
Rood Screen
by Diane Walker
by Diane Walker
Help me always to remember:
that which hides you
also draws my attention to you;
that which masks may also reveal --
and yet,
that which most enhances your allure
is exactly what keeps us apart.
that which hides you
also draws my attention to you;
that which masks may also reveal --
and yet,
that which most enhances your allure
is exactly what keeps us apart.
It Is The Same Life
Icon of St. Francis of Assisi
by Virginia Wieringa
by Virginia Wieringa
Stream of Life
by Rabindranath Tagore
The same stream of life that runs through my veins night and day
runs through the world and dances in rhythmic measures.
It is the same life that shoots in joy through the dust of the earth
in numberless blades of grass
and breaks into tumultuous waves of leaves and flowers.
It is the same life that is rocked in the ocean-cradle of birth
and of death, in ebb and in flow.
I feel my limbs are made glorious by the touch of this world of life.
And my pride is from the life-throb of ages dancing in my blood this moment.
by Rabindranath Tagore
The same stream of life that runs through my veins night and day
runs through the world and dances in rhythmic measures.
It is the same life that shoots in joy through the dust of the earth
in numberless blades of grass
and breaks into tumultuous waves of leaves and flowers.
It is the same life that is rocked in the ocean-cradle of birth
and of death, in ebb and in flow.
I feel my limbs are made glorious by the touch of this world of life.
And my pride is from the life-throb of ages dancing in my blood this moment.
Canticle of the Sun
by St. Francis of Assisi
"...Be praised, my Lord, through all your creatures,
especially through my lord Brother Sun,
who brings the day; and you give light through him.
And he is beautiful and radiant in all his splendor!
Of you, Most High, he bears the likeness.
Be praised, my Lord, through Sister Moon and the stars;
in the heavens you have made them bright, precious and beautiful.
Be praised, my Lord, through Brothers Wind and Air,
and clouds and storms, and all the weather,
through which you give your creatures sustenance.
Be praised, My Lord, through Sister Water;
she is very useful, and humble, and precious, and pure.
Be praised, my Lord, through Brother Fire,
through whom you brighten the night.
He is beautiful and cheerful, and powerful and strong.
Be praised, my Lord, through our sister Mother Earth,
who feeds us and rules us,
and produces various fruits with colored flowers and herbs ..."
And you must see:
Please note that all credit for this inspirational and fresh combination of "image and spirit" goes to Virginia Wieringa.
This Landscape
by Diane Walker
This landscape,
clothed in dark and light,
success and failure,
death and resurrection—a canvas
on which you paint the golden glow of hope.
This landscape,
clothed in dark and light,
success and failure,
death and resurrection—a canvas
on which you paint the golden glow of hope.
We Are Stardust
The Art Blog at Episcopal Cafe
"Stanford Quad" (above) painted by The Rev. Eliza Linley and quilted by Deborah Rasmussen is shown this week at Episcopal Cafe. About this piece, the artist writes: "The arches of the Stanford Quad open here onto deep space. Images brought to us over the years by the Hubble Telescope put us in touch with a cosmic truth: we are stardust; the atoms that make up our bodies were present at the dawn of creation. The stars we see today are echoes of a drama that took place millions of years ago. This perspective gives us a more complete understanding of our place in the universe and our responsibility for the care of our planet."
Read more here.
Read more here.
Burr Oak Leaf
by Ruth Councell
As I was beginning to draw this leaf [above] in a botanical art class, the instructor said, "Pay attention to the central vein of the leaf. It is through that vein that the leaf gets its life from the tree. The whole structure of the leaf is built off of that vein."
When I saw the leaf in that way, the drawing came much more easily and naturally.
And it occurred to me that this was about more than drawing leaves.
It was a reminder to me that by paying attention to the source of life, everything else will flow from it.
Words and Image by Ruth Councell, All Rights Reserved.
Who Calls Us?
By Diane Walker
What bright moon
slices through the trees
to cast her golden net
across the water?
Who is it
that calls us to
this liquid wholeness?
What bright moon
slices through the trees
to cast her golden net
across the water?
Who is it
that calls us to
this liquid wholeness?
The Artist's Purpose
The Art Blog at Episcopal Cafe
"Just as there are many ways of being in a place, there are also many ways of seeing..."
So begins President Mel Ahlborn's post, expressing the gratitude of the Board of Directors of Episcopal Church & Visual Arts to Episcopal Cafe and to the many generous supporters whose 2008 contributions make possible this work." Read it all HERE.
So begins President Mel Ahlborn's post, expressing the gratitude of the Board of Directors of Episcopal Church & Visual Arts to Episcopal Cafe and to the many generous supporters whose 2008 contributions make possible this work." Read it all HERE.
Eyes To See
"Lord, purge our eyes to see
Within the seed a tree,
Within the glowing egg a bird
Within the shroud a butterfly
Till, taught by such we see
Beyond all creatures, thee
And harken to thy tender word
And hear its "Fear not; it is I."
Words: Christina Rossetti quoted in "God Has No Religion: Blending Traditions For Prayer" by Frances Sheridan Goulart Within the seed a tree,
Within the glowing egg a bird
Within the shroud a butterfly
Till, taught by such we see
Beyond all creatures, thee
And harken to thy tender word
And hear its "Fear not; it is I."
Image: Haleconia, by Suzanne Charleston
New Horizon
"What is the new horizon in you that wants to be seen?"by John O'Donohue in "To Bless the Space
Between Us: A Book of Blessings"
Seen above: Photography by Diane Walker
Restoration of the Spirit
The Art Blog at Episcopal Cafe
"Over a period of several years, Anthony Caro has been working on a major series of sculptures and architectural features to form the restoration of a chapel at Bourbourg in Northern France, about 12 miles east of Calais." Read more here.
Invocation
"Creator and sustainer of the universe, known in so many different ways by so many different people, we rejoice today in the privilege of living in a society in which peaceful political change is possible. We rejoice in our power to do a new thing, to act on our beliefs and to amend our ways. We rejoice that today marks a milestone in our life together that many of us thought we would live and die without seeing. We rejoice in the witness of all who gave their lives so that we all might inherit freedom, and we pledge ourselves to be worthy of their sacrifice, to strive always to be the people they died believing us to be.We ask your blessing upon Barack Obama as he takes up the heavy burden of his office. We ask your blessing and protection upon his family as they share him with us, and upon the challenging life into which they now move. And we ask your blessing upon all of us, that we might find, each of us in his or her own way, the means to support his leadership and develop our own, for the benefit of all people everywhere.
All of this we pray in unity of heart and purpose. And let all the people say, AMEN"
January 20, 2009, by The Rev. Barbara Crafton
Seen above: "Hope" by C. Robin Janning
Hope
by Diane Walker
I watch in prayer,
suspending breath
as hope strains to emerge again.
See how she works to extricate herself
from hearts grown calcified:
Cracks extend like helping hands,
radiate from center outward --
Will these long-buried wings
break forth in light;
remember flight?
Words & Image by Diane Walker, all rights reserved.
I watch in prayer,
suspending breath
as hope strains to emerge again.
See how she works to extricate herself
from hearts grown calcified:
Cracks extend like helping hands,
radiate from center outward --
Will these long-buried wings
break forth in light;
remember flight?
Words & Image by Diane Walker, all rights reserved.
Magnifying Light
Rebirthing King, Rebirthing America:
A Covenantal Pledge on January 19-20, 2009
"On this rebirthing day, January 19, 2009, Martin Luther King's Birthday, on the eve of there coming into office a new government to represent the American people, I join in covenant with other Americans:
I commit myself to give a new birth in America and in the world to the vision of Dr. Martin Luther King, to call ourselves and every nation now to develop an overriding loyalty to humankind as a whole, in order to preserve the best in our individual societies;
I commit myself to work toward a world-wide fellowship that lifts neighborly concern beyond any tribe, race, class, or nation; to call for an all-embracing and unconditional love for all humanity and for the web of life upon our planet;
I commit myself to fuse power with compassion, might with morality, and strength with sight; to choose nonviolent coexistence rather than violent co-annihilation; to speak for peace and justice throughout the world—within and beyond our doors and shores.
I commit myself to take specific actions.
I do this in the knowledge that tomorrow is today, that we are confronted with the fierce urgency of now. Now let us begin. Now let us rededicate ourselves to the long, hard, and beautiful struggle for a new world."
The text above is part of Sr. Joan Chittister's "Vision and Viewpoint" e-newsletter, and is part of an initiative from the Shalom Center.
Seen Above: Photograph by C. Robin Janning
The Sower, Parable Project #2
by The Rev. Earnest Graham
This is the second in a series of graphic novel translations of the parables of Jesus, which are found in Matthew's gospel (Matthew 13:1-9). See more here.
This is the second in a series of graphic novel translations of the parables of Jesus, which are found in Matthew's gospel (Matthew 13:1-9). See more here.
Ethiopia Calling
The Art Blog at Episcopal Cafe
"For most Episcopalians today a church’s holiness comes from the gathered body of believers who are created in the image of God and blessed by the spirit of Jesus. In Ethiopia, the presence of the ark makes the church holy. This in part explains why so many churches have circular or octagonal designs and concentric regions of holiness expanding from the ark at the center. Genuflection, prostration, dancing, loudly-chanted prayers, processions, a strong reliance on rhythm and drumming make church a more physical experience in Ethiopia." From "Timkat and the Ark of the Covenant" by Malcolm C. Young. Read it all here.
Image by Malcolm C. Young.
Malcolm C. Young is a photographer, theologian, and Episcopal priest in the Diocese of California. Educated at U.C. Berkeley and Harvard, he currently serves as the rector of Christ Episcopal Church in Los Altos. He is the author of the forthcoming book The Spiritual Journal of Henry David Thoreau (Mercer, 2009). "Ethiopia Calling" is on YouTube here
Image by Malcolm C. Young.
Malcolm C. Young is a photographer, theologian, and Episcopal priest in the Diocese of California. Educated at U.C. Berkeley and Harvard, he currently serves as the rector of Christ Episcopal Church in Los Altos. He is the author of the forthcoming book The Spiritual Journal of Henry David Thoreau (Mercer, 2009). "Ethiopia Calling" is on YouTube here
Herewith
By Gene Black
Here with my faith I stand in a valley
Surrounded by fear, my losses I tally.
Fear, I have little.
I feel a strong hand.
My soul reaches out grasping, hoping.
Admiring the wonder, I travel this land.
I seek truth in beauty, my path upward sloping.
Herewith, content I will be, and yet I still seek
The wonder of wonders, a Holy mystique
Words and Image by Gene Black. All Rights Reserved.
Here with my faith I stand in a valley
Surrounded by fear, my losses I tally.
Fear, I have little.
I feel a strong hand.
My soul reaches out grasping, hoping.
Admiring the wonder, I travel this land.
I seek truth in beauty, my path upward sloping.
Herewith, content I will be, and yet I still seek
The wonder of wonders, a Holy mystique
Words and Image by Gene Black. All Rights Reserved.
After The Epiphany
by Diane Walker
All the signs are there:
this path will take me off the page:
The clear blue welcome of home
recedes into the mist;
new fences bar the way,
declare new ownership,
new rules,
new life.
Someone has coated this bright road with silver
to lure me down the trail
but I've been here before
and know the stronger light means darker shadows.
Hold my hand:
Perhaps in sharing this downward rush
I'll beat the odds,
and will not slip this time.
Words & Image by Diane Walker, all rights reserved.
All the signs are there:
this path will take me off the page:
The clear blue welcome of home
recedes into the mist;
new fences bar the way,
declare new ownership,
new rules,
new life.
Someone has coated this bright road with silver
to lure me down the trail
but I've been here before
and know the stronger light means darker shadows.
Hold my hand:
Perhaps in sharing this downward rush
I'll beat the odds,
and will not slip this time.
Words & Image by Diane Walker, all rights reserved.
Mountains And Fog
your sky is sisterto the sky that walks above my head
and holds my heart in thrall
Photograph by The Rev. Scott Fisher, St. Matthew's, Fairbanks.
Words by C. Robin Janning.
After Antietam
by Diane Walker
When all my hard-earned seeds
Have been pecked free by
Tiny yellow birds,
And I am left
standing in this God-forsaken field,
Feathered in owl-gray husks,
Trailing woolly remnants
In the blue-clad night of winter,
Who will call to me,
Sing me down the wind,
Draw me with moonlight,
Through the cold dark earth
And into the star of wonder?
When will I get my own wings,
Who will give me voice to cry
the sweet spring's chirp of rejoicing;
a tongue to sip the nectar of the sun?
Shivering in death-scented darkness,
Fragile, chilled, awash in darkness,
Lost, afraid, alone in darkness
I wait, and listen for the Light.
Words & Image by Diane Walker, all rights reserved.
Have been pecked free by
Tiny yellow birds,
And I am left
standing in this God-forsaken field,
Feathered in owl-gray husks,
Trailing woolly remnants
In the blue-clad night of winter,
Who will call to me,
Sing me down the wind,
Draw me with moonlight,
Through the cold dark earth
And into the star of wonder?
When will I get my own wings,
Who will give me voice to cry
the sweet spring's chirp of rejoicing;
a tongue to sip the nectar of the sun?
Shivering in death-scented darkness,
Fragile, chilled, awash in darkness,
Lost, afraid, alone in darkness
I wait, and listen for the Light.
Words & Image by Diane Walker, all rights reserved.
Gracefully
"Living gracefully is knowing what time it is, and acting in sync with it. If it is planting time, plant; if it is harvest time, harvest." (Rabbi Rami Shapiro in "The Sacred Art of Lovingkindness: Preparing to Practice." Forward by Marcia Ford, SkyLight Paths Publishing, 2006).Seen above: Pen and Ink drawing by Joseph Fox.
Toward A Happy New Year
A Morning OfferingI bless the night that nourished my heart
To set the ghosts of longing free
Into the flow and figure of dream
That went to harvest from the dark
Bread for the hunger no one sees.
All that is eternal in me
Welcomes the wonder of this day,
The field of brightness it creates
Offering time for each thing
To arise and illuminate.
I place on the altar of dawn;
The quiet loyalty of breath,
The tent of thought where I shelter,
Waves of desire I am shore to
And all beauty drawn to the eye.
May my mind come alive today
To the invisible geography
That invites me to new frontiers,
To break the dead shell of yesterdays
To risk being disturbed and changed.
May I have the courage today
To live the life that I would love,
To postpone my dream no longer
But do at last what I came here for
And waste my heart on fear no more.
Amen.
By John O'Donohue in "To Bless the Space Between Us"
Seen above: 11:00 a.m. and -50 degrees New Year's Eve by The Rev. Scott Fisher, St. Matthew's, Fairbanks.
Bending Low
"... what God did for us in that baby in a manger, we are called to do for others. Jesus spent three years in ministry bending low to help those under the crushing snows. But it wasn’t just about those he helped. It was about showing us what a life as his disciple was supposed to look like: Healing the sick, feeding the hungry, finding the lost.If you look around and see the beauty of Christmas and hear the joy of children in the season, look a little deeper. The very thing that causes the beauty might also be bending some to the breaking point. Bend low with them, and help them up.
'For lo! the days are hastening on, by prophet seen of old, when with the ever-circling years shall come the time foretold when peace shall over all the earth its ancient splendors fling, and the whole world send back the song which now the angels sing.' Amen." by Rev. Anne Robertson, read it all HERE.
Seen above: "There Came A Light" by C. Robin Janning
Advent III
The Art Blog at Episcopal Cafe
The art and words of Heather J. Annis are featured for Advent III at the Art Blog over at Episcopal Cafe.
Seen above: "Baby Steps II," watercolor, 2008, 18 ½" x 6 ½" by Heather J. Annis
The art and words of Heather J. Annis are featured for Advent III at the Art Blog over at Episcopal Cafe.Seen above: "Baby Steps II," watercolor, 2008, 18 ½" x 6 ½" by Heather J. Annis
Advent's Fruit
"Contemplative waiting, purposeful waiting is what makes Christmas an experience rather than simply an event. It is a lesson meant to color the entire year." by Sr. Joan Chittister, read more here.Seen above: "Pear Study" by Ruth Councell.
Advent Night
"We are in a season of contradictions. Lights glitter from every structure; meanwhile, the days lengthen, and darkness begins to come earlier, stay later. A little shiver runs through our pre-electric-light primordial selves. The ancient human family viewed this time of year with trepidation. They lit fires for warmth and light, and wondered what the winter would bring. No longer concerned with a lack of food and shelter during the freezing winter months, we turn on the central heat, put on a fleece-lined parka and wait for the weather report.Yet underneath our civilized response to the season, we may sense our human roots. We may look at the dark velvet dome of the night sky laced with stars, and wonder. It is a season that mysteriously brings together death and birth—death of the old season, the old year, the growth from last summer's garden; birth of the new light after December 21, the Winter Solstice, and birth of the community that is formed as we turn inward with the season. It is the season when Christianity celebrates the birth of Jesus, also called Immanuel or God-with-us." By The Rev. Mary C. Earle in "A Celtic Christmas: Celebrating the Sacred in All Creation."
Seen Above: Advent Starry Night #2 (2006), by Virginia Wieringa
The Advent Bishop
"Emmanuel, Prince of Peace, Divine Counselor is come among us to re-mind, re-member, and re-create. A new mind and heart is birthed in us as we turn to follow Jesus on the way. The body of God's creation is re-membered and put back together in ways intended from the beginning." The Most Rev. Katharine Jefferts Schori, Presiding Bishop, The Episcopal Church, read more here.Seen above: "The Advent Bishop" by The Rev. Wilfredo Benitez-Rivera, Rector of St. Anselm of Canterbury Episcopal (Anglican) Church, in Garden Grove, California.
Advent II
The Art Blog at Episcopal Cafe ...this week
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Tracings of Eternal Light (Cross), by assemblage artist John Sager, opens the second week of Advent at Episcopal Cafe. "The art of assemblage is the real jointing of separate objects into a cohesive whole." Read more here.
On View: Tracings of Eternal Light (Cross) by John Sager; Assemblage (Broken auto glass, cookie cutter, glass, frame) Date/Size: 13" x 9" x 4.75" (2005)
On View: Tracings of Eternal Light (Cross) by John Sager; Assemblage (Broken auto glass, cookie cutter, glass, frame) Date/Size: 13" x 9" x 4.75" (2005)
Refracting Beauty
"Art, too, can refract beauty in its wake. Art follows nature, pointing to the same generative reality. Art, too, can serve, just as connected to the disabled realities of our lives. But art has also presumed in the 'invisible hand' that guides the process, never questioning that ego-filled landscape of art might regress, rather than progress. Perhaps we need to consider that rooted beneath all of art is a much more sane and humble premise than celebrity or success. Perhaps art is to the economy what trout are to a stream: beauty that once caught, can be, and needs to be, released back generously into the cultural waters so that those who come after us can enjoy them. Perhaps that generosity is what makes waters teeming with created gems that delight our senses and sustain our well-being." Makoto Fujimura in "Trout, the Dow and our Bottom Lines"Seen above: Bi - The Chinese Ideogram for Beauty, Detail
Bus Shelter Nativity
The poster shown above will be displayed in about 1000 bus shelters across the United Kingdom throughout December. The painting is by Royal Academy Gold medal winner, Andrew Gadd, who says: "At first I didn't like the idea of painting a nativity scene in an urban setting. However, once it was explained that it was to be designed for bus stops, it gave me an idea... this idea. The bus stop when simplified is like a stable. It is after all a shelter; a place people go to but never want to be. So where better to stage a nativity? How unlikely! The image reflects the environment it will be shown in, and therefore includes the viewer. Which is what it is all about."Read more here. Hat tip: Episcopal Cafe.
Advent Blue
"I turned down a road this morning andEVERYTHING was Advent Blue."
Image and Words: The Rev. Scott Fisher
Small Glimmers of Light
Winter comes and the days grow short. To ward off the solitude of the dark night, we light candles. Small glimmers of light break the darkness, and we are joined to one another in our search for the one great light that exists always, ready to burst out through love and the lighting of a single candle.Image and Words by Kathrin Burleson
Seen Above: Advent (watercolor, 12 x 6 inches, October 2008)
The Way Of Advent
Diane Walker, a frequent contributor to Image & Spirit, is blogging Advent. She says: "I have decided that for the next 4 weeks I will take on the daily readings for Advent, selecting a verse for each day and pairing a photo with it."Take time to visit her at Contemplative Photographer and enrich your journey of Advent.
Landscapes
“Our intentionality constructs the landscapes of our inner world. Maybe it is time now for a phenomenology of soul. The soul creates, shapes, and peoples our inner life. The gateway to our deepest identity is not through mechanical analysis. We need to listen to the soul and articulate its wisdom in a poetic and mystical form.” John O’Donohue in Anam Cara, A Book of Celtic Wisdom.Image: Photography by A. R. Pinkus, composition by C. Robin Janning.
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