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Bread and Salt

It’s been years, decades, since I first heard an old Russian proverb. It latched into my head in some primal way, and I’ve never forgotten it: “eat bread and salt and speak the truth.” What could be more simple? What could be more valuable in any earthly life? Bread and salt are basic. Even the poorest in the tundra have bread of some kind to share. And truth? What could be more necessary, what could be more desired in a meeting of people at any table — especially in our times of fake this and that. I am so weary of all the fakeness and all the outright lies!

And so, when I was invited to submit to a local show called “The Magic of Ordinary Things” I knew what I wanted to do right away. I saw a saltshaker at a restaurant and decided it would be perfect for my still life set up. Truthfully, I asked my companion, since it was such a plain and ordinary specimen “do you think the restaurant would let me take this home?” He said he would be embarrassed if I asked them. So, I demurred under his truthfulness and started my quest unperturbed: how to find a simple multi-sided saltshaker which could highlight the proverb?

Sure enough a local restaurant supply place had just the specimen for less than five dollars. I bought some crusty bread, gathered some cloth and a candle, and began to sketch an arrangement. Then I mixed my oil colors, looking for contrast and a certain mood.

Out popped this painting. It’s not a perfect rendition of the set up in my studio; actually, I love the photo I took better. But the painting has a merit of its own as the paint is so sculptural, especially the wax on the extinguished candle. The candle’s light has gone out, but there is ambient light yet, which allows for the seeing of anything. The contrast between the light in the room and the darks clinging in shadow is highly symbolic to me of the time we live in here.

The show opening for Ordinary Things was this past Friday. Two of my pieces were juried in and hanging. But this one sold right away. Thanks to the Griffin Gallery in Jonesborough, TN.

I make work not for the sales (thanking God I can say that). What validates me is any expression which can be read, even subliminally, as truth. This is the bread I hunger for, and I don’t believe I am alone.

In a search to make sure I had the proverb correctly in my memory, I found interestingly this quote from a current art critic: “I would say we are now in a position, with these decks cleared, to demand more from our art, our culture. I would never try to define art and enjoy the reality of its non-definition, but that is to say it is time to shape up. Artists and critics need to wrest our art away from those who settle for mental dust. Our life depends on it and the time is nigh. So start. And stop breathing that mental dust. You know what it is.”

Here-Here and Where-Where is what I say!

‘next level’

It’s an inside joke in our house now. ‘Next level’ stuff feels like sleight of hand.

Why? because all that went before has intrinsic value. And it not only remains but is the source for what follows.

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palliative

The word came to me when I was working this week on some small pieces in my studio. I am familiar with the term “palliative” since conversing with a friend who is a hospice nurse. But I had not considered this term for me… until now. Palliative: n.  an action that is intended to alleviate a problem without addressing […]

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face to Face, or shadow for Substance

In a wooded area near the fields below, I was enchanted by the shadows and then the light

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night soundings

This scene references a vivid memory I had when I was about 18, sitting on a log in Canada and peering up into the deep night sky. No one sitting around the campfire was speaking. I had no prior information about God which was at all meaningful, so I was not prepared with any assumptions or pre-conditioning. I just looked up silently at the dark vastness sprinkled with an array of stars. Soon, unbidden, I was covered with awe. The depth of sparkling bodies suspended way above me in the heavens was beyond beautiful. It was calling me in some kind of gentle way to awaken to what seemed suddenly obvious: that there was a Creator who was way beyond what I knew sitting there on the earth. I said nothing to anybody, but my heart gained something important that night.

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Taking Root

The Maker of every soul and every seed is good, and He is at work. One of the very last Hebrew prophets, Zechariah (paralleling many signs which culminate in Revelation) assured the same, saying “Who has despised the day of small things?” for “the eyes of the Lord range to and fro throughout the earth” over all that He has made. Join Him in the planting and the waiting.

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“Veil” and looking through

In trauma, the ripping away of what we relied on or called “normal” is terrifying. But when that disintegration exposes something far greater to consider, would you really want to walk away? Any determined seeker is promised that he will find.

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Binding Up the Fracture

“Broken” is a trendy word

Which gives us all a pass

To roll like Pollyanna

While blinding through morass.

Who wants to face the music though?

Who wants to buck the throng?

But no matter what your view of things…

We all know something’s wrong.

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what Mary knew

sudden things — then slow things —
and pain at the pace of a mule,
but asking Him and waiting
would be her lifetime rule

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falling and rising

We can observe and even take heart from these cycles in nature, it’s part of our natural background: tides move in and out, and this is strangely comforting. Seasons flow around the calendar, sound has a rhythm of waves, and history has repeating patterns. The nine month cycle of deciduous leaves gives those of us who live for decades an object lesson in common grace that we can ponder every single year.

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the rock and the horizon

This is ancient rock. Painted this summer, this painting is more than visual, for conceptually it is a statement about past/present/and future, and so it holds weight symbolically for me as well.

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