reflections at grundy lake
This is quite the place. Sandwiched between two lakes – each offering a unique incarnation of spirit in wind, water, earth and (camp)fire, and in people too, and in their prayers – the present pattering of rain is a welcome aid to my internal meanderings of soul. I’m trying to take in the iridescence of it all:…
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the universe in my debt?
Giving comes back like a well sent boomerang. And tithing is unstoppable. But can I really put the universe in my debt? Did Jesus give 10% of his life in the hope that it would rebound back to him? Is every gift really its own reward? In what sense? “give yourself away and put the…
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Raindrops
6-year-old me didn’t need to know the author’s name, although the gold-coloured Newberry medal on the cover intrigued, if only mildly . What mattered then, to begin with, was the dread of the goblins, the treachery of milk turned sour, and the anguish of villagers. More recently, the premise of this tale resurfaced in my…
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Swam
There’s a particular kind of memento mori that leads one to peaceful acquiescence in feeling and being small. So along with this image from the Luther Marsh, I’d like to share a few thoughts that I’ve gleaned from various artists and theologians. In particular the patient, thoughtful work of Andy Goldworthy is as helpful to…
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Eden, Zion (Rev. 2)
The bit in brackets is not a scripture reference. "Rev. 2" is a designation to indicate that this is the second revision (or waypoint, or landmark, or stopover) of an image on a journey. I’m discovering a new level of process in artmaking. The first instance of Eden, Zion is now more than a year…
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The Velveteen Rowboat
These words herald a story told elsewhere. I’m telling it there because I thought I would be cleaner in its own space. Take me there! These words herald a story told elsewhere. I’m telling it there because I thought I would be cleaner in its own space. Take me there!
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Spuds
Is there life after shelf life? After shelf death, is there redemption? If dinner’s not your destiny you grow tusks, you’re grotesque You dangle instead on a wire in the limelight: objectified. Today my subjects are afraid, eyebrows whispering to nervous furrows. Primetime was years ago and retirement isn’t much fun in the dark. Will…
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Domestic Blues (1/6)
I love housework. I don’t always do my chores on time, but when I do them, I go all out. Today, "all out" refers to the grace I’ve found in an empty soap container. Grace, flowing through my eyes and into my soul, by means of the fine lines between light and viscosity, and in…
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Swords and Ploughshares
While for the generals Montcalm and Wolfe, "Québéc Citadel" might have connoted heavy artillery, my own scaling of the QC cliffs this past December involved strictly the shorter spelling of "Canon". I hate everything touristy, so when I find myself for a few days, a tourist with a camera, I feel the need to justify…
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