A day of tendermercies

In the past, I haven't included very many of my spiritual experiences in this blog, thinking those were appropriate for another space. But the nature of this blog and it's purpose and title convince me that there is no better place for experiences that are spiritual. If this blog is intended to record my learning and in order to better understand myself, this is an essential part of it. What better learning to record?

This last week I had just about had it. Rylan had a bad asthma attack last week and by Wednesday he was still grumpy like he always is after an attack and I was losing my patience with him (not that I ever have that much to start with, sigh). Evie was having a serious case of diarrhea, so not only were there lots of diapers to change but the poor girl had a wretched diaper rash from it burning through, no matter how quickly I tried to change it. When Trevor left me that morning, I was dreading the day. I could muster no enthusiasm for it whatsoever.

You know what though? Wednesday was wonderful. The kids were happy, we spent some wonderful time together, everyone started to feel better, the missionaries came over for dinner and they were fun, my family got bragged about and I was so happy to hear how well they were doing, and all in all I couldn't have asked for a better stay-at-home day.

I know it was a gift, and I'm grateful for the Lord's awareness of me and for His tendermercies.

Sculpting

I've been painting a portrait of Rylan and last week I felt like I was carving his face, not painting it.

His face doesn't have enough dimension. Darken the shadows.

The brush hits the canvas.

Chink chink chink.

Every stroke of the brush is a tap of the chisel, darkening, digging deeper, creating his face.

William Wilberforce, eat your heart out

Who would be in my Clapham?

Trevor
Reena
Keelee
Carol
Amy
Patience

I want LaRee in my Clapham
I wish Brandon could be in my Clapham

Odd that I know who would be in my Clapham before I define it. Knowing who is in it will help me define it. Hmmmm...a post for another day.

Tools in His hand

You take the pen,
and the lines dance.

You take the flute,
and the notes shimmer.

You take the brush,
and the colours sing.

So all things have
meaning and beauty
in that space beyond time
where you are.

How, then, can I hold back
anything from you?

--Dag Hammarskjold

Life is Art

I've had Art on the mind.

Rhapsody in Blue, Michelangelo, my own painting, opera, my poetry obsession, have all been sashaying across my synapses.

As I learn more about these true Masters-- Michelangelo, Gershwin, DaVinci-- I find myself wondering what makes them Masters. Why is their work true art in my opinion, while, say, the Mesa Art Walk does not strike me as artful in the least bit? How do I define art? I had vague ideas, but to focus my thoughts a wee bit, I referred to good old wictionary. Here are some of the more pertinent definitions:

• (uncountable) The conscious production or arrangement of sounds, colours, forms, movements, or other elements in a manner that affects the sense of beauty, specifically the production of the beautiful in a graphic or plastic medium.

  There is a debate as to whether graffiti is art or vandalism.

• (uncountable) Activity intended to make something special.
• (uncountable) A re-creation of reality according to the artist's metaphysical value judgements.
• (uncountable) The study and the product of these processes.
• (countable) Skill that is attained by study, practice, or observation.

And here is my take-away, in my definition of art:

Art must have beauty. It can be a terrible beauty, but it must draw us in and be appealing to the senses. To do that, it must have order.

Art must have truth. It must hold a reflection of the eternal and what it means to be human. It must speak to us of God and His work and glory. Fortunately, I have learned that it is easy for beautiful things to carry truth, because the truth is so often beautiful. Whether an individual sees truth in a painting may often more upon the viewer than the painting. Where viewer 1 may see only a vase filled with flowers, viewer 2 sees the truth and beauty inherent in humanity's desire to capture and enjoy the wonder of God's creations, and their corresponding desire to create and bring things into order. Viewer 1 does not see truth in the painting; viewer 2 does.

Art must be the result of self-discipline, of "study, practice, and observation". It must come through a process of perfection and refinement.

Why does it matter how I define art? Because I want to create it. I want to create it through painting, through music, but most importantly, through the medium of my life: a life of beauty and truth, a life of practice and refinement. All of wiktionary's definitions of art can apply most directly to the creation of a life. I am so grateful that I have been given the direction and tools necessary to make a masterpiece.

Now on to that practice part...