joy and sorrow - khalil gibran

Then a woman said, "Speak to us of Joy and Sorrow."

And he answered:

Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.

And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.

And how else can it be?

The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.

Is not the cup that hold your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven?

And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?

When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.

When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.

Some of you say, "Joy is greater than sorrow," and others say, "Nay, sorrow is the greater."

But I say unto you, they are inseparable.

Together they come, and when one sits alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.

Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy.

Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced.

When the treasure-keeper lifts you to weigh his gold and his silver, needs must your joy or your sorrow rise or fall.

our very best.

I was listening to a cd today. Some may think the singer a bit pitchy or inexperienced. I hear passion and I hear past the pitchy and the inexperience. It made me happy and revealed to me that even though we should give God our best - sometimes our best is not the best of another. Sometimes our best is pitchy and inexperienced! And it's ok to simply sing!

If the very best that we can do is compared to filthy rags - then oh how I long to sit next to the one who sings off key at church - singing from the very pit of his soul - singing out loudly to praise the Lord with passion. To share with the artist who has something to say about their God - the God of heaven and earth using cheap paints with unsteady brushstrokes. To read the poem written by the teen that doesn't rhyme nor make sense but makes sense to her and to her God.

But we are all like an unclean thing,

And all our righteousnesses are like filthy rags;

We all fade as a leaf,

And our iniquities, like the wind,

Have taken us away.

Isaiah 64:6 (NKJV)

Do I deny to sing or to paint or to write because I don't think I am good enough? Or do I think that I am better than they? To God, if our righteousness is as filthy rags, then we are all the same. We are picked out by our intention. Yes everything comes down to the intention of the heart doesn't it?

this word: garment.

This word Garment - suggested by Rachel and I added an s.

Here we go.

Garments of sacrifice

burn at the fringe

they smell like lost innocence

and they cover over

they cover over

Garments of faith

taped to the paper doll

they look like sackcloth

and they feel like wool

they feel like wool

Garments of joy

dog-eared to remind

they taste like freedom

and they are warm like the sun

warm like the sun

Garments of praise

fall down with arms raised

they are likened to birds

and they reveal our hearts

reveal our hearts

I was thinking...

Being intentional is quite difficult. One tends to put too much emphasis on making words so deliberate that the words never come. I glanced around and found writings from the past. Non-sensical writings that revealed. So I read them and realized I can re-write them, just like God has re-written me.

~~~~~~~

written 2002 - revised 2010

and I was thinking

and that’s always unfinished business

when I stand

and I look

I forget who I am

until I see Christ looking back at me

and I was thinking

and I am always thinking

that my eyes were closed

when I read

the dance steps

of this passion played oh so sweetly

and I was thinking

when I wasn’t falling

how crazy silly

this faith meanders around me

when I talk to God

and He reminds me just how human I can be

and I was thinking

absurd as it sounds

that this little girl

is allowed to cry

because it isn’t so bad

and the ashes simply blow away

I try not to think about it

not to think anymore

that fits and tantrums

disfigure my face

when I whine

and You remind me of my sin

You hold my hand

and You tell me it’s ok

but I already knew

so I sang You a song

and played my deliberate painting

and left it unfinished

just like me

and I was thinking...

You already knew what I was thinking.

plastic flowers.

tin can rose.

the color red

It seems that many of my paintings have the color red in them. I have noticed my color palette is very narrow. Maybe it's just a phase or a season...I don't know. It has been this way for a couple of years now. I am not sure that it bothers me but I am curious about it. Someone once said some of my art is “creepy”...does the red make it creepy? I understand with this particular piece - the red may represent blood but what you don't see yet are the roses - red roses - they are yet still in my head.

I did a search online on how to make roses out of aluminum cans. I found something. I want to make many aluminum can roses.

I tend to think of roses as stereotyping beauty and love.

I am not a rose person and I rarely wear red.

a garland instead of ashes or beauty for ashes

Back to artwork again. It seems that so much of my art carries a very similar theme. The theme being “dross”. The impurities that bubble up to the surface.

My current painting in progress called “Beauty for Ashes” is becoming a triptych and has also engulfed my new sculptural project.

I pondered what to do for a show called Go Figure which is specifically geared towards recycling and using objects found in the trash, to be thrown away or found on the ground. The minimum size requirement is 48" tall so I needed height. I started looking for a table base and I already had an old beat up ammunition box previously purchased a few years back at a yard sale. I ended up finding a table base about a week ago - no table top just the perfect base. It even had a broken leg that had been glued back on. It wasn't in the trash but it was only $5.

So there it sits, the table base with the box on top waiting for me to fill it with trash..or should I say recycled found objects.

My intention was to create something with the theme of self worth or self esteem...then I thought I really don't have a grasp on the self esteem concept yet. Coming from a past of anti-depressants and therapy, the world's concept of self esteem was engraved onto my mind. I therefore didn't have the correct interpretation of it...yet. Maybe someday - so I then thought of the Beauty for Ashes painting. Why not make a series? Ok. So the concept of self esteem will now be burned, the impurities surfacing to the top, the ashes blown away.

Who are we any way? Is our identity in what we do or wear or feel? Do we really need to feel acceptance from our neighbor, friend, peer? When I was young I would say yes, a definitive “YES” and the way I lived my life proved that I believed this. Now, a definitive “NO!” Oh how I wish I knew that when I was young.

More to come...

His testimony

A couple of weeks ago I heard this: Instead of saying this is MY testimony why not say this is HIS testimony? This was a great point. If you are a Christian you should be ready to give a testimony of what God has done for you and what you have come out of and how you have been restored. However we can get caught up in giving so much detail about the past, what bad things you did, where you were and then only give a small praise to God.

We need to be aware that the details of our past may mean many things. They can be a stumbling block to others that hear the testimony. Too much detail may be inappropriate. Sometimes the details of the past are things we hold on to for comfort because they are familiar. Sometimes they are details that we have not yet dealt with and we have pushed them aside. The important thing to do with those past details is deal with them as they are brought up but the most important thing to do is to give the glory to God.

Do you ever hear something one day then the next day you hear something on the radio that goes along with what you were discussing the day before, then the next day you read something that continues the subject? That happened to me. Today was the day I read about something I had just commented about. I read in the book Principles of Leadership for Women by Gail Mays. I opened to "Never Accept Any Glory"

"I am the LORD: that is My name: and My glory will I not give to another..." Isaiah 42:8

I think God is trying to get my attention.

Here is what Gail says:

Glory belongs to God, and your position is to bring Him attention. It's God's work, done God's way, for God's glory! As a leader fit for the Master's use, beware of pride! It can be a horrible monster or a purring kitten, but nevertheless beware!

Testimonies may fall into the realm of a way of getting attention. We may not have healed yet from our past nor may we have even dealt with some of the things we went through so we “feel” sad or in need of others to listen to us. Beware! The attention belongs to Him. Attention is a prideful concept. We are to be others centered. So the point of a testimony is to allow it to minister to others who may be struggling, to show them a way out through trusting in the Lord and to give the glory to God.

I guess I need to go work on His testimony!

I stare at this blog like a deer in headlights!

Being intentional is quite difficult.

I went to something familiar...my artwork.

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The story of Pink Grace.

About nineteen years ago I found myself in a dark place. It was a place of rest yet I was so very tired. You were watched - every meal was noted - what you did or did not eat. You see not eating was a sign of depression.

Still it was in this place that God began to reveal my need for Him. I know God was there my entire life - showing me things here and there but it was in this place that I finally started to pay attention. Through my distorted view learned in Catholic and Lutheran church, college philosophy and feminist classes I began my journey to know Him.

At that time, I went from wondering why I had to pray to saints, to why I couldn't go directly to God, to I don't get this whole Jesus thing, to was God a woman and then the hey, wait a minute - maybe there is no God...

Still through all that muddled thinking He showed up in a book of prayers and a pair of pink, beaded socks.

The details are here: a.r. 1

http://www.9-ah.com/artistic_rants.html

Years later I came upon someone who needed to be reminded of love, generosity and grace. I remembered what it was like to receive those pink socks that I had admired - given to me freely. At first I didn't know what to make so I actually drew the socks. I scanned the socks - nothing looked right. Then I painted a little angelic type figure. I sent it to the person. I sent one to someone else and then to another. I decided Pink Grace would always be free - a gift.

The definition of Grace: The unmerited favor from God. Now God's grace is so much bigger, better and awesome than this little painting could ever think of being. It says in Ephesians 2:8 For by grace you have been saved through faith, and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God...What an awesome gift.