Category Archives: hope

what Mary knew

it was a sudden intervention*
which startled her to fear
the words of hope familiar, longed for
but now through her God comes near

how could this be, she pondered —
She gathered all she knew
but came up short and so she asked,
her soul then given view.

a Holy golden seed was offered
though existing long ago,
Her permission yet was asked for, granted.
And wonder now would grow.

the daily changes subtle,
something within was true!
9 months with mercy mounting
she voiced out all she knew.

“Great things He’s able”, she rejoiced
“He brings down and lifts up”
She saw through corridors of time.
But more would be her cup.

the private becomes public
the darkness blind to light
the Caesar seems to be in charge
and delivery will be tonight.

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

She couldn’t know, nor any
How grand His reach would grow
Or how long before fulfillment
of His promised final show

But what she did know kept her
Midst all that seemed undone
Midst all that pierced her heart in sorrow
This was God’s Holy son!

And then the One who turned the tables
Came back for every one
who granted, like Mary first, allowing —
then waiting, asking, holding the Holy One emplanted

* “intervention”= late 16th century (in the sense ‘come in as an extraneous factor or thing’; extraneous meaning ‘separate from the object to which it is attached’): from Latin intervenire, from inter-‘between’ + venire‘come’

falling and rising

The display of color has been brilliant this year, now mostly all dimmed and down in my neck of the woods. Such vibrancy artists and photographers strive to capture.

How lovely this transition we see every year from light green buds, to broad leafy canopies, to the loss of photosynthesis in the aging cycle of a leaf — which yet gives us so much dying beauty! It seems like a slow mercy to me. Years ago, on a Fall hike I sat in wonder watching the gentle flutter of yellows and reds. Almost ad infinitum, these bits flickered through a tall stand of trees. The paper thin light catchers were like dressed up dancers, letting go from their support and one by one falling gracefully to earth. The float-fall was profoundly beautiful, oh… that a one-year old leaf could be a reflector of such fading glory.

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.

For we all will fall, but unlike the simple leaf, there is potential for us also to rise. The Bible speaks of this: first a universal Fall early on in the book and then a singular Rise predicted by the prophets. The Rise is encountered early in the New Testament and then the same is promised for many at the end of history. This progression is echoed whether positively or negatively in the life of many a character in the pages of the book. Lives lived out show a trajectory from rising to falling or falling to rising. The results are evidenced in time.

Here’s one example, I went to an art show this past week on the University campus. Artists can be like watchmen on the wall, they often see farther, and look for clever ways to warn, to celebrate or to announce. Amongst the collection in this show were several obvious clarion calls that our progression as a nation is falling, and falling fast. I saw nothing there which gave me reason for hope. I walked out truly depressed.

2000 years ago, a prophet in the temple at Jerusalem approached a set of parents when they brought their child to the temple for his 8th day dedication. The couple were poor and likely indistinguishable in the hubub of a crowded temple court. But the old Jewish seer was alert for he had been promised that he would not die before seeing God’s salvation.

Luke records this story from an eyewitness, the mother of that child. Lifting the baby from her arms, the prophet suddenly announced a joyous declaration that salvation, the coming of the promised rising had come! But then, tenderly he turns to the baby’s mother and adds “This child is destined to cause many in Israel to fall, and many others to rise. He has been sent as a sign from God, but many will oppose him. As a result the deepest thoughts of many hearts will be revealed. And a sword will pierce your very soul.”

His falling and his rising would be the causation for the destinies of many to follow.

This child’s public presence in the world would bring all too soon a sorrowful piercing; a full participation in human dying, the falling that every soul must experience one by one. But then…but then the rising would commence.

the rock and the horizon

Geologists have a name for the earliest epoch in earth’s history: the Pre-Cambrian era. This is when the continents took shape and life forms began to emerge. At least from the evidence left to investigate, the Pre-Cambrian is ground zero, or the canvas upon which fossils and sediments later laid down on top of this early bedrock between the waters.

Earth scientists also say that in Northern Minnesota we can see and walk on some of the oldest Pre-Cambrian bedrock which is exposed to us on earth. These are ancient rocks. The evidence to support this is in the surrounding geology, the dating of this basal igneous material, and subsequent metamorphic compositions in these intriguing forms.

Add to this that some geo-scientists who have done extensive core sample research around the globe see patterns in the lay-down which indicate how and where uplift, rifting and plate subduction cycles occurred above the earth’s mantle. From the evidence seen in the rocks and in computer modeling, it is postulated that in earliest earth time these rock outcrops along the deep trench of Lake Superior may have been some of the highest mountains in the original continental Pangea. I only learned this recently, having read a geology text during Covid. But I have been scampering along this settled volcanic material since I was young. This ledge rock has long fascinated me for its firmness, color and especially the fracturing of its angles. It is just wonderfully magical stuff!

So this summer I got to be up there again. On a rainy day, I captured a section of this rock with my phone, did some quick sketches and then finished a painting inside in a couple hours. I am proud to highlight this 8×10 oil for several reasons. First, I set up and framed a visual composition which still appeals to me every time I look at it. I am critical of my work, so that is saying something. The color is true, and the semblance of the wetness on the top planes of rock reminds me of that interesting moment in time when I was looking at this ancient stuff.

This painting is more than visual though, for conceptually it is a statement about past/present/and future, and so it holds weight symbolically as well.

The rock is ancient, and to me more valuable than diamonds for its enduring hardness, while also being entirely accessible to anyone! Those two aspects: ancient and available are so rare. What could be better on earth than something so old and so commonly present for anyone to stomp around on? But it has a mysterious beauty too. It is no wonder they call this area “artist’s point”; it attracts people even before they have any clue as to ‘the why’. Here’s why for me: Rock is often used as a metaphor of eternal things, referenced by Job, Moses, David, Isaiah and Jesus (who Himself was called “the Rock”). This metaphorical yet available rock named Jesus, sits now in His high place, having settled things in time, our time, every time., and time to come.

The horizon is a symbol or a sign to me also, and I reference that often in my work. My horizon on this particular day was cloudy, almost mirage-like and I loved that. Like a wrapped present, or a pretty lady with a veil is the mystery of this glimpse. More is coming, more is behind my view of things. It’s an anticipation which is sure though shrouded. Paul the brilliant 1^st century Christ-follower said, “we see in part but not the whole”. Our sight is limited, our understanding of all that is yet to come is dim. But we do know the important things, the vital things and we know all we need to know. The rock is solid, a basis for sure confidence and solid footing. And that far line out ahead of me is just a teaser.

So time right now is my present reality, looking back and looking forward today, and right then when I captured this view. I’m on a continuum therefore and this is comforting. No other life forms can enjoy an awareness and a thoughtful contemplation of history: what happened before, what happens to me now and what will happen in the future. Time is a continuum, a linear travel forward. And the future can be glimpsed here symbolically at least. Seen things are only shadows of more important things, says the writer to the Hebrews..

I remember my Dad explaining that the furthest edge we see is only a few miles away because of the curvature of the globe. The huge lake surface then is like a clinging bulge we can only catch a scant glimpse of. But the maker of this lake, this rock and the maker of me sees it in wholeness and as He’s promised, will be bringing it to completion.

whoops!

If you are one of the small number who came onto my blog yesterday afternoon, and if you listened to the video posted there, then you got a sneak preview! It probably hit you as weird.

I have un-published that video clip of me describing a 3D piece I made, paralleling it to an expectation I have. My reason? That clip is scheduled to post automatically once I am lifted out of here. I had the clip recorded as a testimony of my confident hope. But it is not for now since I am still here, and still working and still making plenty of mistakes.

Oh the quiet joy in time, and the slow opportunity to start in again!

I just got home from an 8-day Plein Air fest and counting travel to get up to Northern MN and back with my supportive husband (who just got back himself teaching on another continent) it was a haul. Needless to say, we’re a bit disoriented. Normally, I post on the 15^th of every month in which I am present, pushing the publication date of my video to a later time. I missed the timing this month, hence that may have been for you readers a bit of disorientation as well. As Mark Twain put it ”the reports of my death are greatly exaggerated.”

But I will die. And so will you.

The real question is what will you find on the other side? I entreat you, with all I have in me now: don’t let that reality be a whoops. Jesus, the only one who anticipated well, who made not one whoops, who defeated death’s sting and prepared his followers as to how to be ready had much to say about the end and of His coming back. And for those who “love His appearing” there is great reason for joy. Even as our world is self-destructing, even more so as it is. “No one knows the day or the hour”, Jesus said. No one needs to get all wadded up in fear or blinded by all the lies which are multiplying (He said that too, same chapter). Your way out, the only safe way out is both simple and sure: Jesus. Learn Him.

Meanwhile, in this present mean while, my studio is crammed with projects and half starts, big ideas and small beginnings into them. This piece is a “whoops” right now. I started it on an October visit up at that lake, and tried to bring some resolution this trip, only making it worse with September color. I may trash this, you can see if you look closely how I’ve already tried to scrape into some of the garish green, or I may try to improve it if I effectively can within its context. I have time!

a shifting

There’s a shift going on. I know it personally and in my own work. I sense it nationally and globally (you probably do too). But I’ll speak for myself alone here. I am not afraid. In my 7^th decade now, I am getting better, bolder and more anticipatory about what is ahead for me in every way. Here is just brief attempt to herald this with words and through my art.

This past month I was asked to show a collection of my Master’s thesis work (completed from 2004-2007), at a fabulous new gallery in our town. Time is such a teller! I can see it now better than I even could when making these pieces. The whole collection is somber, full of stark verticals and traveling horizontals. The hues were muted the textures broken. The ideas that spawned each piece were all rooted in gravity while I was pondering what holds us in place, what governs time and people which is above the material that we can see?

That last sentence still captivates me into my present work. And I use a landscape ground in everything I do, I just can’t get away from it, even in the more abstract pieces. The tagline I’ve given my work “Conceptual Landscape” remains importantly descriptive. Concepts drive my work, ideas drive my actions, but the seen aspect of this is from a certain place on the land right in front of me. To put it a different way: the land is the stage-set only, but the winsome script is what keeps me and others watching and listening. To represent this effectively, visually without saying it out loud takes a level of skill I am only beginning to touch. But I am on it, like never before. Here is just a sample page of my current sketchbook.

The stage-set is beautiful, and oh I have so many references all around me, at different times of day and lighting! My colors now are brighter. The light is more compelling even especially on darkening days. The textures lead, the lines are often diagonal now, rarely settled horizontals or intersecting verticals. And somehow, in the pieces which are ready to frame, there is a sense of potential, of excitement, even surprise in how the marks, my marks, are contributing to a quick conclusion.

my non-best seller

This month I am going to do something different than highlighting my two-dimensional work and instead am celebrating the 5^th anniversary of my non-best seller book: “Markers”. Yes, I can say I am a legitimate author, but I sure hope this is the only book I will ever write! Book publishing is not a simple proposition. Book marketing is even more arduous. So, I will spare you the promotion and instead just insert the reviews of a couple commentators who turned up on my Amazon book page.

“Are you weary of watching the news and seeing one more devastating event that has occurred? Do you long for a different kind of world? I recommend MARKERS to the person who is dissatisfied with the notion that “this is just the way things are.” There is a reason that we are in this mess and the author helps us find a path to learning why and living differently. If you’re able to be honest about your doubts, then you are heading in the right direction. Honesty takes humility and that is the first marker.”

And from another…

“I have to admit that it is different from most books I read. I think like an engineer – to the point, concrete, linear. The artistic sense of the book was different for me. Yet, the careful use of words in a unique way was captivating. An “Eve pivot” or “We are finite, but the inventor of forever is not.” Words and phrases like this sent my mind into a wonderful journey that was refreshing. The presentation of strong Gospel themes in ways that were different and fresh felt creative yet warm. The stories of Julie and Anne were powerful. I could go on and on but know that the labor poured into this work resulted in something both beautiful and powerful.”

I appreciate these words from people I don’t even know! And by the way, comments are worth their weight, even negative ones. If you find something in my book that you want to take issue with, have at it. I’ll see it and so will others. I’m prepared. My book may not be a best seller according to some hot list, but it is changing some perspectives. Happy non-best seller anniversary to us!

the Artisan will perform it / sign of the almond rod

I am currently using my monthly blog to highlight some older important work. These selected pieces are from my personal past but poignantly each is relevant (I believe) to our global present. And each is a handmade sign toward the future. If you are a regular reader here, you may’ve already recognized that TIME and its sightless flow is a really interesting concept to me. Time is both linear and rhythmic with repeated echoes. Time in this sense, is like light energy which is both particle as well as wave. Time flows and it cannot be encapsulated. It impacts every one of us who live within its circuit whether we want to acknowledge it or not. Time can easily go on without us.

Time is more interesting and emblematic than any single one of us musers who sit in our own period on a timeline can grasp. A most published cosmologist admits “Scientists in every discipline are now far, far removed from the reality they claim to explain.” (1) This writer goes on to detail how we just don’t really understand 95% of what hints to us of existence “out there”.

Such is the ineffability of many big and important things as well as this mysterious entity we live in called time. Any pondering of things not understood ought to humble us? Plato said “For every one, as I think, must see that astronomy compels the soul to look upwards and leads us from this world to another.” (2)

But back to time: it is going somewhere, it leads in one direction: Past/Present/Future. And in its wholeness, time is revelatory of a much grander story: with a beginning, a middle and an end. This whole process is superintended by an Artisan (if you’ll allow an even bigger IDEA) who exists beyond time in eternity. Would you be willing to handle that possibility if even for one of your moments?

What prompts me this month is the pregnant report of one spokesman for this Artisan, the Hebrew prophet Jeremiah. I have slipped back into his record to glean what he might say to my own time, my own nation’s experience of decline. Jeremiah lived through the last gasps of a once grand culture in the 6^th c. BCE. He is appointed to speak into that history, and he is given hint that this won’t be easy. In the very first chapter of his tome, Jeremiah describes an exploratory dialogue he is graced with. The Artisan and Creator who formed the prophet from his mother’s womb, says this: “What do you see Jeremiah?” Jeremiah looks, identifies an object in front of them and replies. “I see a rod (branch) of an almond tree” The LORD then takes that common thing and makes it a lesson: “You have seen well, for I am watching over my word to perform it.”

Huh? ok start with the given basics here: The rod is real. It is tangible, it is alive for a time, like a cut flower; but it is only a rod. It will bud however, for God says He will watch over it to perform it. He said this, not me, not Jeremiah, we are just witnesses to the edge of a very big thing.

Any historically alert Hebrew, hearing Jeremiah, would’ve hearkened back to an earlier rod of Aaron’s, some 8 centuries prior. That rod budded, and then produced whole almonds! That fruit producing rod was kept as a holy symbol of God’s miraculous ability in spite of the people’s rebellion. Jeremiah would not have missed the hope embedded in this given simple verbal sign. From their past into his present and assured by God for a future, Jeremiah had something to fasten onto in his heart: God said He would do it in spite of them. God would watch over every promise He had made through time to accomplish it. His words then are where we best be watching with expectation. Herein is lasting hope. Give Him an honest try. His words aren’t hard to find.

Believing is Seeing, Michael Guillen, Tyndale Refresh, September 7, 2021, p.97
The Republic, trans.B Jowett, Project Gutenberg, June 22, 2016, Book VII

the times require

(Not prose, but urgent poems -mine and His- with an image from my icons “Among the Lampstands”)

Among the lampstands walks a man with fire in His face

And seven starry messengers are held up by His grace.

He involves us in this vision. He gave us words to SEE:

The things that are, the things that were, the things still yet to be.

He walks among the lampstands. He wants my heart to know.

He’s not seated casually – so far from all below.

He once walked in a garden (one walks when not at rest)

He’s up and looking, searching. His heart is on the quest.

Genesis 3: 8, Revelation 1:20, and 2:1

These are piercing eyes that see the show of every deed I know.

And those undone and those dismissed which stained my vaunted soul.

He says “wake up” He softly calls. Then runs off from my door!

“There are things yet uncompleted! Take my blood-soaked cloak as cover

And run with me my love.”

“Don’t slumber now, ‘stead heed my promise and I will give you more.”
“Have you forgotten, you who stand there pondering the storm?”
“I’ve loved you long before. I have more for us together! Oh, turn and let’s explore.”

Song of Solomon 2:8-14, Revelation 22:2

His were first words ever spoken. His will be the last.

And though He knows we “now have sorrows” -Time will make this past.

He assures me with His middle words He sealed them sure and fast

And so my present tense is traveling, held by Jacob’s mast.

Genesis 28:12-13, John 16:22-27 and Revelation 1:5 and 8

“After these things I looked and behold…” There’s a linear time jump to future we’re told.

Quantum cycles repeated ‘til the story was old.

But then lifted out come we, no longer on hold.

I’m so caught by wonder, I drink from again.

“To Him who’s released me” My soul on the mend!

Revelation 1:5b and 4:1

There is a city coming. Beyond this hour of trials,

Established by the builder, who says “a little while”

A new name and an old name Gives the One traversing time.

And you who hold fast what you have. Will not be left behind.

Isaiah 26:20, Mark 6:31, John 16:16-22, Hebrews 11:8-10 and Revelation 3:12, and 6:11

what’s in motion?

“While the earth remains…” assured its founder, “I will never again curse the ground on account of man…” Instead, according to Creator’s worded promise “seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter and day and night shall not cease.” We’ve all taken this for granted, this gentle cycling of life on earth. Like children in comfortable homes, we think it is our due that things should stay as nice as they are. We’ve even assumed we had something to do with all this. It’s ours. Men and women of every nation and time have regularly assumed too much.

Long ago rhythms were set in place and we live within them. Light itself has a pulsing rhythm of particles inside waves. Sound has vibration cycles. Waters have rising and falling tides, responding to a moon which waxes and wanes. Nations rise and fall throughout time. And even our individual beating hearts carry a charted rhythm throughout our waking and sleeping. We can track, even influence modulations in pulse, but none of us constructed nor originated our heart function. When this pattern goes flatlined, we are already gone. Rhythms are embedded, they are a given, a sustaining gift for a time. I consider them all a marker of big-picture reality, and if the Creator’s words are heeded, a sign of hope.

Here is a detail of what I am talking about placed in a collage entitled “In Entropy” which currently hangs in a Gallery show titled “Post Urban”. I don’t know what attracted the jurors to include my pieces. But I know what I intended with inset patterns into a piece which otherwise looks entirely chaotic. There are rhythms, varying cyclings. It is a given thing in both the microcosm and the macrocosm.

As I type today, troops and ships and missiles are moving in positions. For a number of years now I have sensed the waning in my own proud nation. I even felt the earth shake subtly one afternoon, and when I saw the hummingbird feeder moving like a metronome, I knew we were entering the beginning of birthing pangs. Now, many are bewildered at the rapid increases of change, “what’s happening?!” is their wide-eyed cry. The word “unprecedented” is used so often now by talking heads that it (and they) are loosing any meaning.

The painting I highlight at the top of my post this month is in my icons collection on this website. This image is a simple small thing, made of alcohol inks on coated paper. Obviously a landscape, but for me the undulating hills are a symbol of the rising and the falling that happens in all things. All around on the ground, where any one of us stands, are bigger things working, way bigger and especially above. And to give anyone a greater sense of it, Jesus said to his pretty clueless followers basically to “look up”.

It would be valuable to see the whole chapter of warnings He said this in. He didn’t give them a candy-coated pep talk, but rather a gentle pointed wake-up call, and then finally: “He told them a story. ‘Look at a fig tree. Any tree for that matter. When the leaves begin to show, one look tells you that summer is right around the corner. The same here—when you see these things happen, you know God’s kingdom is about here. Don’t brush this off: I’m not just saying this for some future generation, but for this one, too—these things will happen. Sky and earth will wear out; my words won’t wear out.’ “

Luke 21 in the Message Translation

Thickets Repeat

There’s something deeply set in the fabric of all material things, though every generation resists it. But it’s real, it’s frustrating, and we live with it every day. This was predicted in fact: that out of the broken ground we til, that thorns and thistles would accompany the healthy produce we each need for sustenance. More than that, this ground, which blooms both good and ill, will also receive us back. Like gravity: it’s a baked in thing and no workaround can cancel it. “All the days of your life” there will be a confounding coming up of thorns. And with both downward gravitation, as well as with upward tangles, we only hurt ourselves when we don’t navigate with some creative measure of humility about things that complicate our ambition. Elon Musk (ambitious himself) said: “I think you should always bear in mind that entropy is not on your side.”

To bear in your mind something true is half the battle.

For me early on, a wake-up call about what I could transcend and what I could not, refitted my idealism. So, it stuns me when there is so much hubris being thrust forward as if all natural laws are changeable, and that this present generation is finally going to rule and reign into super humans. Proud pronouncements from posers of any stripe make me wince. For thickets repeat. They multiply even. C.S. Lewis called every single generation’s ahistorical cockiness as simply “chronological snobbery”.

The oil painting I am highlighting this month is not just about that downside. There’s more in the human story; and it is hinted, whispering through the chaos of any mounting morass. I sold this to some friends and they have this painting hanging in their living room where they can talk about the broader hope and even the peeks of beauty which are embedded in life on our ground, as symbolized here. One has to look however. Hungering to see something beyond your own mess is not a weakness of the wretched, but actually their first step through.

The texture and the scratching-in here is pervasive. It’s as if I am digging with a trowel. There’s lots of natural broken line, but colors got revealed along this way. It’s a quiet persistence, a determined expectation based on things which are truer than assumptions. We all live on roads where thistles are. We can curse them and stay stuck in them. We can deny them and get cornered by them. But the real subject of this painting is the light, dancing through the bits, and without that light we can’t see at all.

You can live on any ground where thickets are if you will just start studying that light.

“El Olam”

The title of this work is a little-known Hebrew name of God I discovered when reading through Abraham’s journey in the book of Genesis. In 50 years of my own journeying, I have never heard anyone talk on this, but it is rather simple, and it hit me between my eyes one day as I was (then and continue to be) impressed with how Abraham learned more and more about the character of this unseen God he aimed to follow — step after dusty step. It takes time to learn important things.

You can see for yourself how Abraham identifies this new description of God in Genesis chapter 21 right after he’s made an agreement with a man who could have been an enemy (the back story is recorded there, starting in ch. 20). Abraham messes up. God protects and leads, then God even blesses him (kind of a main theme in the Bible). And the philistine takes notice and comes forward. Both this foreign leader and Abraham have something they need to settle out. And so, they make a treaty, a solemn covenant. That’s the short of it.

But the long of it, is that Abraham already knew about the value of covenant by the time he gets to ch.21. And he already knows some things about the character of the God who’d solemnly promised (alone and uninitiated) by making a covenant with this father of the Jews. (see further back story in Genesis 15). So that once things settle out so wonderfully with Abraham’s on-the-ground issue, he is given to see so much more deeply how God has been everlastingly in charge of the entire journey. El Olam can be translated as “continually eternal” “without end” or even literally “the vanishing point”. Abraham voices this realization on his own, and in worship after the philistine has left the scene satisfied. Abraham sees where and how and with whom this is ALL going to settle out. Abraham’s El Olam can be trusted.

The idea of a vanishing point made me curious even as a young one looking at how the parallel corn rows seemed to squish together further out in the field. This was visually mysterious to me, for I knew that walking down any row would never lead me to that point. But then in college I gained some skill at understanding how to translate depth onto a 2 D surface in a perspective drawing class. This old sketch is from that class. There’s a hidden vanishing point in pencil on the back horizon which is the key to getting everything else correctly in place. If you look closely, you’ll see how I messed up too. But the joining point is there.

Later when I saw that this abstract idea was voiced by Abraham as another name for God I was ‘blown away’, or maybe blown further into the mystery: to the point of that recognition.

I made the complex landscape highlighted at the top of this post in 2006. It was inked up and pulled onto paper through an etching press, then I collaged graph paper onto the image and finally a layer of encaustic wax was floated over the center to give it some translucence. This result is one of my favorites for the conceptual reasons above. I have submitted it to a juried committee for a possible showing in Cincinnati in 2022. If it makes it in, I will note that on my news and reviews page. But for now, I am just content to rest this year, and to rest all of my years in the able hands of El Olam.