Surfwise.

I am enthralled and really want to see this movie. I need to see how this worked. And the imagery is phenominal (the website is fun to look at too.)

http://www.surfwisefilm.com/

Prayer requested.

Don't worry. It's nothing tragic or urgent. It's just personal. Wondering how to take God's path for my existence rather than one that may have more to do with my ego and personal feelings.

I was telling one of my friends about a totally bizarre answer we had to a prayer we've been praying for almost a year now. Last week we got a phone call from the Fairfield library saying they thought they have something that might belong to us. Having only been there once, maybe twice in the last year and half since we've been back I couldn't imagine what it would be. I thought maybe it was my library card from when my purse was stolen back in 2002. It turned out to be God answering a year-old prayer in an amazingly creative way.

We have all of our important documents in one plastic file folder that is usually in a safe place in the house. That folder was taken with me to register Sean for school around this time last year (it has our birth certificates, social security cards, shot records, etc.) I've found that if I take those documents out of the main folder - which is florescent green - then they're more likely to get lost on their own. So anyway, I had the folder for registration and the next day we were having a garage sale. I took the folder out of the car and while getting side-tracked with the sale I put the folder down on a shelf in the garage.

So the morning of the garage sale, we had the garage door open but everything for sale was out in the driveway itself. It rained and Rusty and I had a table with chairs set up just inside the garage door. This seemed to be an invitation to shoppers to come into the garage and rummage through things that were not for sale. I know at one point a man picked up the green folder to look at the box underneath. I remember because he asked about something in the box to which I replied, "That's not for sale" and put the folder on a higher shelf then turned to talk to someone else rummaging through the stuff for sale. That was the last time we saw the folder.

Fast forward a few months and we realize it's gone and most likely it had disappeared that day. What should have taken one day to get my Ohio driver's license took weeks as I waited for a social security print-out to verify my number, a new birth certificate, etc. We talked to the social security agency and our numbers were put on an alert status meaning any time something came through using that number it wouldn't be ok'd until we were notified. We struggled with whether to re-order everyone's birth certificates, social security cards and our marriage certificate (something you can only do in person right now where we were married in Maryland.) It would cost a lot of money, a lot of time and some confusion as the supporting documents you needed to request one thing were needing to be replaced as well.

A month or so ago we sent up one last prayer of, "If they're really gone, please let us know and we'll go on from here." I'll admit, after turning the house upside down twice and cleaning out the garage a few times, I honestly figured they were stuck in some closet or cabinet and was surprised when they didn't turn up. The alternative was kind of scary - with birth certificates and social security cards someone can really jack up your credit history and your life overall. I was planning on using some of the tax rebate money to go ahead and re-order the paperwork that proves the history of our family. Then the library guy called.

The folder turned up sometime last fall. After hearing our story they figure it was dropped of there since it's a somewhat "official" location but the person wouldn't be subject to questions on how they obtained it. In all honesty, I don't necessarily think it was "stolen" as there is just as much chance that someone else picked it up to look at whatever was underneath it and may have walked away not realizing what they had until it was too late (I could see where returning a folder to someone and having to say, "I just walked off with your whole life's worth of paperwork. I promise I didn't copy anything down. So sorry... here you go" would be kind of scary.)

So why did I just tell you this very long yet strangely fascinating story? Because it's just proof that God is not boring. God is not easy to figure out. Sometimes the route to answered prayer seems so cut and dry... and obvious... and yet it's not God's answer. It's ours. Because we're so short-sighted, you know? So that's what I'm wrestling with right now. What does God want me to do with the ideas He's given me. The obvious answer seems to be the one that's staring me in the face right now. The path with someone saying, "You'd be perfect for this." And to be honest, some instant gratification and ego boosting. I just want to make sure that's what God wants. And that's why I ask for your prayers.

Thanks.

Game on.

So tomorrow I'm tackling laundry. My workroom is right next door to the laundry... closet (calling it a laundry "room" is a bit of a stretch.) But tomorrow, while the laundry cycles, it begins. Mail art. I'm making it and annoying the West Chester postal service by sending it out. Any size, any shape... if it fits the size/weight requirements then I'm tossing it in a mailbox and letting them deal with it (seriously, I heard about someone who sent a message in a coconut and now I'm enthralled.)

If you're interested in being added to the list of mail art recipients? Don't be shy - email me at faith.art@gmail.com and make sure to give me your mailing address. You never know what you'll find in your mailbox some day down the road...

I pity the fool.

Rusty plays W.O.W. I wish he'd talk like Mr. T while he did it, though. It would be fun.



I will always love Mr. T...

I don't know what to say...

Truly YouTube uses it's power for [mostly] good and not evil:



It's like when chocolate and peanut butter first got together. They're great on their own and even more fun when smooshed together.

Spring (it's about time.)

Rusty stopped on the way home from the airport Sunday to buy tulips as a "thank you" for me letting him spend half of spring break in Vegas with Erik, Buddy and two other friends. The tulips were really tight buds Sunday afternoon then sometime Monday they just exploded!

I took some photos this afternoon because the colored ones especially are gorgeous, with their green tinged undersides gradually changing to blazing pinks, oranges and yellows. I also loved the light coming through the blue of the old mason jar.

Then this evening I'm sitting at the table working on my laptop with the flowers in front of me. They are directly underneath the table light fixture and the pink/orange flowers look like they're votive cups glowing with a lit candle inside. I literally couldn't think I was so enthralled with the light and color. I had to take more photos. Thankfully (for you) I only uploaded nine here. I took 22 overall and seriously, it's not my photography but the creation itself that is so crazy beautiful!

They're also over at Flickr if you'd like to see bigger, in-your-face images (when you get to Flickr, just click the small images to see the big versions):

http://www.flickr.com/photos/art_chick/sets/72157604373194672/

Be.

I fill you with Naming.
Be!
Be, butterfly and behemoth,
be galaxy and grasshopper,
star and sparrow,
you matter,
you are,
be!
Be caterpillar and comet,
Be porcupine and planet,
sea sand and solar system,
sing with us,
dance with us,
rejoice with us,
for the glory of creation,
seagulls and seraphim
angle worms and angel host,
chrysanthemum and cherubim.
(O cherubim.)
Be!
Sing for the glory
of the living and the loving
the flaming of creation
sing with us
dance with us
be with us.
Be!

Oh, I love pretty words and the flashes of heaven they bring forth.

Snark O' the Week

In describing barely contained cleavage in photos of both Beyonce and Posh (Victoria Beckham):

Beyonce's grocery shelf may not be as squished and crammed, but the effect is the same: One false move and the melons will go flying. - GoFugYourself.com

(I'm sorry, but not everything I post can be full of meaning and purpose.)

Couch 2 5K... again.

Week 5: day 1.

Aiming for the Flying Pig 5K on Saturday, May 3...



...but ultimately on to the WEBN Run Like Hell next October (which if you remember correctly, I was unable to run this past year since I was at the doctor having an EKG. And a sinus infection. Good times.)



Can't wait!

P.S.

You know what's so weird about that last post? I meant all of it. Even though we've been walking through some horrific things with some people we love dearly. Watching people we care for greatly have to wrestle with things that just shouldn't be. Things that are unfair and just f-ing flat out wrong.

I think that's why I remembered to add "all the time" to the end of that post (it's a truth for me, not just an Emmaus greeting.) And why I'm able to revel in the fact that God is, indeed, good all the time. It's the only way to get through it. To remember that God didn't create us for this. He created us to live in communion with Him and we're the ones who screwed it up. We live in a fallen world because humans couldn't behave. So we live like this until the day we leave this world and move on to the next.

Abandoning myself to the wild, unbridled holiness of God in the face of full-blown evil is the only way to make it through. If the stars and galaxies sing their praises to God, it's certainly good enough for me. I just hope I'm able to show enough grace to those I care about; that I'm able to remember it's not about my feelings for them or even their feelings about it all. It's about getting through this with our spirits intact and being better for it. I hate sitting and watching and feeling helpless to really do anything more than pray and listen and talk when they need it. So I will rejoice for them when they're not able. I will pray for them even when they don't ask. I'll love them and their family as if they're my own... because they are.

And we will continue to revel in the fact that God is good. All the time.

Not forgotten.

No, I didn't forget the blog. It's just that when you pray and give yourself over to God, He takes you seriously. Dangerously, joyfully seriously.

Elizabeth Barrett Browning said "God's gifts put man's best dreams to shame." Oh man, that is so true. Our outlook is so limited by our humanity.

My future may not be what I thought it was - or where I thought it was going to be (damn it.) But it's in God's hands so how can I ask for anything more? In the last few months I've been blessed by so many people, new relationships, experiences and outlooks on life. We are giving more away and getting so much more back in return - with our time, our resources and our emotions. God is so, so good. All the time.

Kingdom thoughts.

I'm realizing that I've posted to the Faith & Art blog more recently than I have here. It's not that I'm trying to avoid this. It's just that it's becoming harder for me to separate the art from the rest of me anymore. I'm sure this is a big reason why I have identified so strongly with Madeleine L'Engle over the last few years. She says:

And as I listen to the silence, I learn that my feelings about art and my feelings about the Creator of the Universe are inseparable. To try to talk about art and about Christianity is for me one and the same thing, and it means attempting to share the meaning of my life, what gives it, for me, its tragedy and its glory.

It's true. I feel such an honor to be able to connect with the one true Creator, why would I want to separate that aspect of my personality from my day-today self?

On the Faith & Art blog I've posted about some things Rusty and I have been talking about and some decisions we may be making in the not-terribly-distant future. At church this past Sunday both of us were floored by the sermon and its relevance to what we're thinking about. The message was essentially that "wisdom" is not a way of thinking. It's an action. You can think all you want about ways to do things, ways to respond to things, ways to improve things. But unless you act on them? It's pretty much not worth anything unless you take that thinking and do something about it. Which comes back around to the decisions Rusty and I will be making in the next fews weeks and months.

When Rusty and I were talking about yesterday's fabulous Superbowl message greatness (complete with a half-time show by Moeller high school's marching band and some guy in a pink fur coat), I found myself saying, "I don't want to come to the end of my life and have to face God with the knowledge that I could have done more." I don't want to thank God for the salary Rusty gets because it helped pay for our house or helped us get more stuff. A house and stuff aren't "bad." But there's more. And we want to be part of that "more." So please pray for us. And feel free to go browse the other stuff over at the Faith & Art blog.

I'm not sure about the future of this blog or how to merge the two together or whether to keep them separate. I guess the next few months will answer that on its own. Either way, thanks for thinking and reading and praying through this with us. I know there are going to be some people who think we're nuts for wanting to leave a nice house in the nice school district in the nice neighborhood we're in. I think Madeleine L'Engle said it best for me, again, when she said:

It is a frightening thing to open oneself to this strange and dark side of the divine; it means letting go our sane self-control, that control which gives us the illusion of safety. But safety is only an illusion, and letting it go is part of listening to the silence, and to the Spirit.

Amen, sister.

Great scene.

Favorite Heath Ledger scene, or one of them. Sucks when the good ones go...

Amen.

*I thought I posted this to both blogs but discovered today it was only over at the Art & Faith blog.  The part below the video was was my response (originally a second post entitled "Follow-up.")



In regards to Brian's comments, I can hear some of you wondering, "but isn't that the duty of the artist? To help the non-artists among us to see things they can't see on their own?" To that I say, "almost." It's a fine line, but not quite it, at least in my opinion.

I firmly believe we, as artists, are called to help people come into fellowship with God on many different levels - through performance, through song, through visual arts, mutli-media, etc. But we're not to worship for them. We're here to help them learn to see more, to look deeper and to listen to everything, not just the surface noise.

If I create something that helps you come into worship with God? I'm humbled. Honestly. But if I create something that helps you see a new way of coming to a place of worship on your own? Something that you learn that you can take with you? That's even more thrilling for me.

It's cliche, but true, that "teach a man to fish" saying. I want my ideas and pieces to not be the end result. I want them to be a springboard for more. The little rock in the water that sends ripples further out.

Christmas philosophy.

Last year, a few weeks before Christmas, I was part of a group discussion started by someone else about what to put in their child's Christmas stocking. The conversation went something like this:

Them: I need another stocking stuffer for *****

Me and others: What do you have so far?

Them: An iTunes giftcard, tickets to Beauty & the Beast* and blah blah blah...

Me: Uh... how about a couple of Rolo's and call it a day?

*or Lion King, whichever Broadway show came through last year.

Rusty and I have Christmas rules around here. They came about one year when we heard a child we knew complaining about not getting something they wanted then heard the parents say they'd spent $500+ on this child, plus stocking stuffers. And this was a young child (four years old at the time.) We sat ourselves down and talked about what was important for us and came up with these rules:

1.) Santa brings three gifts for each of the boys. And no, those three gifts aren't like a Wii and two games. Nice try, though.

2.) We buy them each a gift from us (or it's a gift we buy the family - two years ago it was a basketball hoop for the Maryland house.)

3.) They pick out a gift for each other.

We're not Scroogy. And we're not "poor" (though we're definitely living on a tighter budget now that the school loan came due.) But even if we were rolling in dough? Why? Our kids are still relatively young - Liam will be nine in a few months and Sean turned six this past fall. If we give them everything they saw on TV now? What about next year? And the year after that? Where does it stop?

Liam has been asking for a Wii. Literally every family in our neighborhood has one, except us and one other. And one of the Wii families also has a GameCube and an XBox. Their kids are ten, seven and two years old. I am the first to admit that there are absolutely no inherently bad things about a Wii or GameCube. But if that's the norm we establish for them at this age, how do you maintain it? To be honest, our boys love playing the plug-in Atari joystick game I bought Rusty for his birthday last year for $10!

So this year we decided to go ahead and buy a video game system for the "family gift." We decided to buy a Playstation 2 at Best Buy. And the process has been funny. One neighbor even said, "you do know there's a Playstation 3 now, right?" Yeah, we do. But why? Why spend more on kids who are just as happy with Atari in the first place, when you can get the system for much less now, the games for much less now and the accessories for much less now? No answer to that. Buying the older model now when the boys are younger means maybe down the road when they're older and know how to properly care for something more expensive then we can think about it a little more seriously.

I'm not saying if you bought your kid a Wii that you're a horrible parent. I am saying that we are specifically trying to make our kids understand that they're blessed to get gifts at all, that the fun they have with the gift is more important than whether it's this year's model or last. And that the gifts are not the reason we come together for Christmas in the first place. And I think it's sinking in.

When the boys pick their gifts for each other it's usually a Matchbox car "because Liam loves cars, Mom!" or something that seems small but that they each pick because they know the other will really enjoy it. And Liam asked once why so-and-so got so much more from Santa and he didn't. We explained that besides Santa, he has us and lots of family that buys him gifts and that some other kids aren't that lucky so we told Santa he could take some of our extra gifts to those families instead. Liam was cool with that. So we figure they're learning what we want them to.

Disclaimer: Please do not email or leave defensive comments about this. Your budget and your priorities and your child rearing is not up to us. Our reasoning does not mean that your reasoning is wrong. Happy Holidays.

Art theory.

I'm so excited about the group of people who have joined in the art and faith conversation. Some from our church, a couple of Vineyard representatives and my favorite new person from Crossroads. Even before our first meeting face to face (and in Emily and Teresa's case, not yet face to face) I felt a familiarity with them. It's got to do with the art. Not the drawing/painting/sculpting stuff. I mean, for example, Brent's a musician but I have a very basic music knowledge, enough to pound out a tune on a piano if the music is written in a beginner's song book. There appears to be little in common on the very surface. But it's a way of thinking and seeing things. That's one reason why I enjoy reading Emily's blog (http://www.emmuses.blogspot.com) Because she reminds me of Sherri, my friend from Cedar Ridge who was constantly seeing the God in unusual yet everyday scenerios. And once you see the God, you see the beauty. Sherri had this completely great analogy for living life. She used crayons as examples. I'm going to use it here and build on it a little.

Imagine two yellow crayons. One is brand new out of the box, pointy, perfectly yellow with clean yellow paper wrapped tightly around it. The other crayon is shorter, its tip is gone and is now a rounded end. The paper is torn down to expose more of the crayon after the tip wore down. The paper is probably streaked with other colors from being tossed in a bucket or bin instead of neatly placed back in it's original box. The crayon itself may have spots where other crayons rubbed against it when the bucket was jostled around.

Which crayon would you rather be? The brand-spankin'-new crayon that was so pretty or the torn up used stubby one? We, especially those of us who call ourselves artists, should aspire to be that stubby one. The one that has been used to create things bigger and better than themselves. Sometimes even coloring outside the lines (gasp!) The one that has been thrown in the mix, bears the marks of having spent time with others - some streaks of other colors that compliment yellow and some that totally contrast with it. Sometimes using that yellow crayon with other colors marked all over it can change the yellow when you use it - there may be some of the other colors mixed in if the marks went deeper than just the surface paper. A lot of times when that happens you find that you like the "new" yellow more than the original and you'd never have discovered it if you had a brand new one.

I used to have a beat all to hell yellow crayon pinned to my bulletin board, after my friend Betsy told me about hers and in honor of Sherri before we moved (it was one of the crayons for little kids, with the flat side so they wouldn't roll away.) That crayon's paper was half gone, it had red crayon marks all over it with some black, blue and brown as well. The tip was so worn that you couldn't tell which end had previously been the tip. You could tell that thing had done some serious coloring time. And that's what I want to be at the end of my life. Someone who's not afraid to get used by God to do some serious coloring, get in the mix with people who both compliment or contrast with myself to make something bigger than just my one original 'color.' I want to have not much left over, if at all. Crayons aren't meant to be bought and looked at then put back in the box. And neither are we.

Date night in DC.

So let me tell you about my favorite date night memory. It was back in winter of either 2004 or 2005, can't remember for sure. Rusty and I left the boys with his mom for the night and drove to New Carrollton where we caught the Metro into DC, switched to to the red line and got off at Cleveland Park (I think) to catch a movie at the Uptown. The Uptown is an old movie theater with one screen (about 40 ft.) with an art deco theme and a fantastic history.

This particular night there was a chance for snow but when we arrived for the movie it was still dry outside. I don't remember what movie we saw but I still remember my love affair with the art deco style of the theathe and the energy of the neighborhood. The movie ended and we left the theather to find DC covered in a layer of snow. We decided to walk down to the 'Four Provinces'. There was live music that night and we were all excited when the duo from Boston took the stage, especially when one of them started to talk with his Irish brogue warming the entire room. We got ready for some hardcore Irish music... and the duo proceeded to sing John Denver! Then Jimmy Buffett. The semi-sober yuppie crowd sang along and Rusty and I enjoyed our time together without kids, housing worries, job stress or what we'd be doing the next day. It was a snowy night in DC, we were enjoying a warm room full of happy people and each other. I know my memory will never be fully appreciated by anyone else but Rusty and myself. But I miss the Uptown and the Metro and the ability to hop on and go downtown.

Run, Forrest, run.

So I just watched Forrest Gump. I've only seen it once and that was in the movie theater and how long ago was that? So this time I only caught part of it (and oh my lord there's a possessed sock monkey cake on 'Ace of Cakes'. Proceed.) Anyway, Forrest Gump.

There were two parts that tore me down. The first was when Lt. Dan is strapped to the mast of the 'Jenny' yelling at God, "You call that a storm? Is that the best you can do?!" I love the irreverence and reality of that scene. Of one man struggling to figure out how God could exist given what he knows about life and the loss he's seen. Love Gary Sinise.

The second was a little more personal. When Forrest finds out he has a son. He says he's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen but takes a step back with tears in his eyes. He just says, "Is he smart?" and Jenny tells him that he's one of the smartest in his class. I've felt that fear that my children - my bright, talented, beautiful children that I fear may have been 'ruined' by my contribution to the gene pool. Forrest's honest fear in that scene is the most powerful part of the movie for me and of course, left me a sniffy mess.

I also turned to Rusty and gave my assessment of Forrest - he's an Asperger's dude. Smart, socially akward, and literal to a fault. I thank God every day for the near miss on that with Liam.

Holy crap. Charm City Cakes is doing a groom's cake with a groom passed out and a bride poking him with a pool cue. And one that a guy's mom commissioned to use the artwork he created when he was little. Art rules, son (I think I may adopt that as my new slogan.)

The list.

I have informed Rusty, from time to time, that if anything were to happen to him I would go after a player to be named later. That person has ranged from David Beckham to George Clooney. I've added another name to the list - Duff, from Ace of Cakes. I mean, the man designs cakes. Some of which explode. And he has Mary Alice working for him. I may go after her too!

And hello, I miss day trips to Charm city.

Mural time.

In other news, I did this last week. It's a mural. On the kitchen wall by the doorway to the dining room (the dining room is that blue room through the doorway in the first shot. It still needs a poly coat but otherwise it's finished. This is one of those projects that took two days from painting the base coat, drawing the design then finishing it. Why? Because when I bought the sign that was the inspiration, I bought it with that wall in mind. You know that quote by Michaelangelo? About sculpture being the image escaping the marble? Well this wall has had this image on it since I saw the sign. I just finally let it show, I guess.




My next project is the dining room and I'm thinking of using an image from one of the pieces of antique sheet music currently hanging in the family room and doing a mural on the upper half the walls. The image is navy blue and off white so it would be easy to keep the current color on the bottom and touch it up where needed. I'm intrigued. The more I look at the dining room wall, the more this image keeps peeking through.