Art

Art As Sacred Exchange

In the last ten days, hell-flames burned near; but hope-fire blazed ever more real. At times I felt trampled, like grass in a flood:  soggy and mud clogged, bent under raging billows. Sometimes I felt like a tree surviving a winter storm, battered but proud, lifting weathered defiant arms in worship. Many times Elijah’s birds…Read more Art As Sacred Exchange

Courage Not My Own

Someone I dearly love is battling acute mental illness. I am scared, I am overwhelmed. My heart breaks for the one I love. I am trying to be brave. I turn to the One who knows, who keeps track:  of my every tossing through the night, of every wandering of the one I love. I…Read more Courage Not My Own

Longing for Courage

On a silver Colorado day, white tree arms tease a dove grey sky and chill settles in my bones. I gaze out my window. Everything is blue, the color of cold. But, I am dreaming. In my mind I am far away:  remembering a shoreline with scattered boats, whipped by wind, weathered by salt. On…Read more Longing for Courage

Blaze

  A long time ago, I stumbled on a meandering meadow path. Vibrant wildflowers exploded, vibrating with hum of bees and butterfly flutter. The promise of joy lured me into the broad expanse. But within a few steps, dark clouds gathered and a mighty wind whipped grasses across my legs. Ominous thunder rumbled. Waves of…Read more Blaze

What Selling Artwork Means to Me

I slid the letter out of the envelope, with a check. My painting, Just to Touch the Hem, sold! I felt thrill of excitement to hold tangible reward for the work of my hands, but also a wash of sadness:  a sliver of my heart, gone forever. Two of my pieces were accepted into the Regional…Read more What Selling Artwork Means to Me

Ready to Blaze

I crawl out from 2014 feeling a bit battered. Nothing catastrophic. Just the grinding and grating of a persistent challenge that prowls and growls at my heels. At the same time, I grasp for 2015 like a new pair of wings. White and light, bright with hope.  As I reach, I lift up my battered-ness…Read more Ready to Blaze

Lunge for the Light

For the days when leaning for the light is not enough, LUNGE for the light. And even if you fall on the path in the dead of night, surely as the sun rises, its tender rays will find you again.

Digging

Here am I again, where circles end, the dusty place I know at the end of the road. I sink to my knees, furiously dig, past listless grains to deeper pack. Sand, flowing through my fingers, until I hit something hard, solid. I grasp it, wrench it into the light, hold it up to weak,…Read more Digging