It's A Good Day

Grateful for Solitude

2012-02-11T20:52:00.000-08:00

Life is best lived in the present. Today I fixed a toilet, outlined a book proposal, read a few articles, cleaned and filled Harry's litter box, watched a film clip of Monet painting and listened to a Patsy Cline album. My wife and daughter were out and about, having a Mother-Daughter day. My son was out with friends. Today was, for me and Harry the cat, a day of solitude. And I am grateful. Picasso said, "Without great solitude, no serious work is possible."

The correct answer to a difficult math problem is a thing of beauty, even to those of us who aren't aware of what we are seeing. But few care to see the process; the pages of formulas, mistakes, numbers... and, so it is with art. Much of the process requires solitude. Countless hours spent with pencil and paper, palette and brush; the artist's due diligence, seen by none but God. R.O. Blechman put it this way,

"...my trash basket is full of false starts and failed beginnings. Only after much work does a drawing become right."
Dear James, Letters to a Young Illustrator

Today, as I was afforded time to make a few things right, I remembered that life is lived while fixing toilets and cleaning litter boxes. A good day. Here is an amazing video that also reminds me 'It's a Good day.'

And, here is Monet in his garden-

Sometimes I Can Hear

2012-02-06T17:05:00.000-08:00

Castile

Robert Motherwell

"Sometimes I can hear the audience breathing."
Michel Camilo
Pianist

In Thornton Wilder's classic play, Our Town, the Stage Manager looks into the audience and says, "There are things we all know, but we don't take them out and look at them very often." Our lives are filled with distractions, with voices crying for attention. We need silence. Yesterday was the Sabbath, a day of rest, a day of silence. It is on the Sabbath that I 'take things out and look at them', and in the silence, sometimes I can hear.

I am a teacher who paints (as opposed to a painter who teaches, but that is another discussion). Yesterday I considered my calling; my goals as a teacher and artist. As usual, my questions led to more questions until I arrived at this fork in the road-

Is the goal of what I am currently working on to improve a skill?

i.e., to be better?

or,

Is the goal of what I am currently working on to be recognized?

i.e., to be better known?

Recently my Dean of Students suggested having an exhibit of student work for Family Night. As I looked at the syllabus, I realized the goal of the current lessons leaned toward improving skill. I wondered, 'will the result of these lessons be show-worthy?' Working with materials can be messy. Sometimes progress is slow. But, as Babe Ruth said, "Never let the fear of striking out get in your way." So, I took a second look at the fork and found solutions. It will be a good exhibit.

The Artist's View

photo by Samuel Carter

Goals for 2012

2012-01-15T06:29:00.000-08:00

"Always the living reality of Jesus Christ revealed

must be our rallying point."

Calvin Seerveld

The Psalmist declares- "This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it!" A new year, a new day... new. Anything is possible with newness. It is the time to begin. Again. I am not given to making 'New Year's Resolutions' (I remember the classic words of Mary Poppins, promises can be like "pie crusts, easily made, easily broken"). However, I have of late been convicted, or, perhaps challenged (where is that line between inspiration and conviction) to articulate goals. So, as a matter of accountability, here are my goals for 2012:

1. Spend more time at Christ's feet
2. Strive for simplicity

3. Be more generous

4. Teach better (and more efficiently)

5. Complete, and submit, two books in progress (Long overdue)

6. Listen more, speak less

Year-End Words

2011-12-18T07:20:00.000-08:00

Random Thoughts to close the year

or- stuff I've chewed on

from 2011 journals

When you fall, anything 'grabable' will do.

Possibilities abound when you are no longer bound by the possible.

If a picture is worth a thousand words,

how many pictures is the Word worth?

A real man

is humble,

pays attention to loved ones,

provides for and protects loved ones,

gives more than he takes,

learns from his father,

admits mistakes,

forgives.

The Lord provides, and He tends to do it through people.

We enter this life crying and wailing,

we should leave singing and rejoicing.

Our words are a powerful gift,

yet we spend them carelessly, cheaply.

Hebrews 3:15 says-

"Today if you hear His voice..."

As I read those words I 'saw':

Today- always present

if- always possible

you- always personal

True repentance is the ultimate honesty.

An artist lives in two worlds at the same time-

the one inside his head and the other one.

Sometimes art is inconvenient.

Inside every man is a little boy

who longs to hear his father say, "I love you."

All the determination and will power in the universe

cannot force a red-light to become green.

Laundrymat realization-

Underwear is not essential to life, but it is nice.

Checkbook realization-

There is a specific stomach sickness reserved for

the realization of a checkbook error.

Truth does not depend on whether we believe it

(or, agree with it).

and finally, practical wisdom-

A man should not peel a hard-boiled egg while driving on a busy freeway.

That is a task reserved for quiet, country roads.

Reducing Holiday Stress

2011-12-10T05:18:00.000-08:00

The joy of Christmas was lost to me, years ago. I suppose I grew up. Or worse, I grew old. A childlike wonder I vaguely remember was slowly replaced by an ache in my stomach. Shopping. Commercials. Travel. Frenzy. Stress. Debt... all in the name of Christmas. It seemed to me that the standard of a 'good' Christmas must be measured monetarily, either spent or received. My wife called me 'Scrooge' (on more than one occasion), to which I replied, "Bah!"

This Christmas, I decided, will be different. This Christmas will be holy. After all, holiday is a good word. And so, I made a list to help my focus (I am a continual list-maker). I offer it to the fellow Scrooges of the world.

1. Read the Story
The story of Christmas, found in the 2nd Chapter of Luke, is filled with wonder. Whether you are Christian, Jew, Atheist, or anything in-between, the story is beautiful, the story is the essence of Christmas- the gift of Life.

2. Make something
I know, I know... Christmas gifts should be bought, not made. After all, what if they don't like it? This question, it occurred to me, was a major source of my stress. I had to re-think the joy of gift-giving. I don't imagine God stressing out that first Christmas, wondering, "Will they like the gift of My Son?"
And then, there are those who claim, "I'm not creative." To that I say, "Bah!" Make cookies, write a poem, draw a picture- the handmade gift says, "I took the time to do this for you."

3. Make a list
(another one) of things I am grateful for, leaving room for add-ins. Put the list on the refrigerator. Nota bene, include things that money can't buy.

4. Perform randomly anonymous acts of kindness
Suggestion- mail someone a gift card, with no return address on the envelope.

5. Remember simplicity
Less is more. Christ was born in a stable, placed in a food trough and shared with smelly shepherds.

This Christmas will be different. I am determined. And, I have a list.

Nostalgic Signs

2011-11-26T07:05:00.000-08:00

Clarksville Train Station
Clarksville, Tennessee

Nostalgic moments are weirdly unpredictable. Yesterday, I remembered my first train ride. One minute I was having a conversation and the next I was in the mid 1960's, I was 9, and my Cub Scout Den was taking a field trip to a small town in Kentucky to see one of the banks robbed by the infamous Jesse James.

The train car smelled of musty wood. The seating consisted of old park benches, bolted to the floor. In the back of the car was a pot bellied stove. Nine-year-old butts are squirmy, especially with the prospect of banks and bandits looming up the tracks. Maybe Jesse dropped a bullet. I was determined to find one. My Mom was seated beside me, keeping me seated beside her with that 'look' that only Mom's possess.

Nostalgia is a strange pond. Some days it seems larger, better than you remembered. Other days you feel there should be a 'No Fishing' sign. Funny thing about my first train ride- I don't remember the arrival, only the ride.

A nostalgic moment, a video from one of my former students-

99.9 °F from Harrison Keller on Vimeo.

A Face, A Book and a friend

2011-10-27T03:36:00.000-07:00

The Most Powerful Button in the World

I have 485 friends. I know because I just checked my Facebook. Of course, I've never met some of them. When I was in High School I could count my friends on one hand. On the other hand, well, things were different then. My 'friends' sat with me at the same lunch table. The word 'friend' was more often a noun than a verb. I certainly couldn't 'add' (or remove) a friend with the click of a button. Not long ago I received two friend requests, both from former High School classmates. One request was from the least popular girl in my class, the other was from the most popular (my perspective). I don't remember ever speaking to either. Thanks to Facebook, the great leveler of humanity, I can now be 'friends' with both.

Carpet Buffet

2011-10-16T13:29:00.000-07:00

My first teaching experience involved helping Mrs. Lambert with her four-year-old Sunday School class. Mrs. Lambert was a master teacher. Four-year-olds exude passion without apology and she had a gentle strength that would comfort without compromise. They laugh, they cry, they sing, they dance, they play, shifting from one to the next as swiftly as the turned pages of waiting room magazines.

There was a time when the classroom supply of Play-doh began to decrease. Then, we realized that Johnny (name changed) was eating it. And one Sunday morning it was gone. Johnny had eaten every can of play-doh in the room. He was, however, not finished. From the corner of my eye, during a song, I noticed Johnny had his face to the floor. He had discovered a patch of dried doh and was gnawing it from the carpet. Johnny's doh pica was undaunted by the empty cans.

I wonder, what appetites take me to the carpet?

Taste and See

2011-10-09T05:44:00.000-07:00

"Nothing exists in the intellect that has not first gone through the senses."

Plutarch

Seeing, hearing, smelling, touching and tasting; my senses are beautiful gifts, with each being proximity relational. My sight allows me to view stars- millions of miles afar. My taste, however, requires closeness.

Yesterday ended a 21-Day fast from pleasure reading. Yesterday was Yom Kippur. I didn't plan the fast around the High Holy Day, but I am grateful for the timing.

The Children of Israel are known as People of the Book, stewards of the Word of God. After hearing that expression, many years ago, my love for Judaism began.

The Psalmist wrote, "Taste and see that the Lord is good."
In Him, things afar draw near.

So, I will begin again with my reading.

Black and White

2011-10-02T07:20:00.000-07:00

The Way Home
Michael Carter

"We never really know enough until we recognize that God alone knows it all."

I Corinthians 8:2,3

The Message

Reading Fast-Day 14. Sunday.

Yesterday I read this note from the margin of my Bible-

'The Baal Shem Tov taught that every person is allotted a given number of words during his life. When he has used up his quota, he dies. Thus, by guarding his tongue, one assures himself of greater longevity.'

The writer of Proverbs put it this way, "Words kill and words give life. You choose."

We don't fully know the personal importance of anything until we choose to avoid it. For 14 days I have chosen to avoid the reading of books and I am wrestling with my restlessness. Ink on paper; 'agreed upon' vertical and horizontal strokes we call letters shape meanings that direct our thoughts. Is it really that black and white? The gestalt of a book astounds me.

This morning I read:
"The words of wise men are like goads, and masters of these collections are like well-driven nails; they are given by one shepherd. But beyond this, my son, be warned: The writing of many books is endless, and excessive devotion to books is wearying to the body." Eccl. 12:11,12. (italics mine)

In the margin, after this passage, I had written this quote:

"You have made us for Yourself, and our hearts are restless until they rest in You."

Augustine, Confessions

A song from Steve Earle

Whiteboards, Blackboards and Wordscapes

2011-09-24T07:11:00.000-07:00

"It is not enough to like good books.

You must be a good book yourself."

Francois de Fenelon

1651-1715

"In the beginning was the Word.."

John 1:1

Today is day seven of my fast and my books are calling to me. I love books. The affair began with Pop's Reader's Digest Condensed collection. They made a good highway for Matchbox cars. The uniform size and large quantity afforded me bridges, tunnels- even skyscrapers to frame my literary landscapes. Everything changed when one day I looked inside them. I discovered wordscapes. My Mom allowed me to join a Book of the Month club, in lieu of allowance. Still, five decades later, books remain my highway. But it is from books I am fasting.

Sunday, my wife asked, "Why do you read so much?"

My immediate response was, "It interests me." I knew there was more but I couldn't articulate more. So I pondered that question the rest of the day. Then it occurred to me, the truer reason why I read- first, I continually seek answers to a never ending list of questions and second, I want to know what others think.

These titles patiently await my return:

Visio Divina

edited by Mel Ahlborn and Ken Arnold

Universe of Stone

by Philip Ball

Bright Earth

by Philip Ball

The Artist's Rule

by Christine Valters Paintner

The War of Art

by Steven Pressfield

Rumors of Water

by L.L. Barkat

and

A Long Obedience in the Same Direction

by Eugene Peterson

I haven't placed all reading on hold, just 'informational pleasure' reading. For twenty one days I have chosen to read Scripture, work-related emails and student work only (I teach a creative writing class... I can't ignore their words for three weeks. If you'd like to read some of their words, click here). I have noticed that, while I am not reading more scripture, I am 'chewing' on the text longer. After all, one of the purposes of fasting is re-focusing, restoring clarity to our time-perspectives through reflection, or as they say in the South, "Chewin' on somethin' different for a spell." As an aside, I've noticed notes and drawings that have worked themselves into my Bible. Here are a couple of them, transcribed to my Moleskine pocket journal:

Theatrum Dei
Calvin Seerveld

Four Stages of Mastery
Lance Wallnau

As I reflected on the sketches, I thought about the lectures associated with them. Both, Dr. Seerveld and Mr. Wallnau, used Whiteboards for visual aid. I like chalk. It's earthy. I like the residue of words on my fingertips. Sometimes I let it remain. But, this is the 21st Century. This is the age of the Whiteboard.

Fourteen days of "chewin' on somethin' different" remain.

Here is a photo from one of my lectures for you to chew on-

The Hands and Feet of Art
Michael Carter

Photo by
Samuel Carter

sacro speco

2011-09-16T06:13:00.000-07:00

There is a wet chill on the deck this morning so I grab a jacket from the hall closet. I am in sweat pants, a t-shirt and a tweed jacket. A spectacle for none to see. In the near distance a woodpecker is searching for breakfast. This is my 'alone-time' with God, my sacro speco. Him, me, coffee and Harry. Harriet is her name but we call her Harry.

Harry came to us, or as my wife says, "was brought to us". It happened in Memphis, Tennessee. One day there were two cats on our deck. One was small, the other 'looked rough', battle weary. Memphis can be hard on a cat. "He looks like an Ozzie," my wife said (alluding to a rock star of that name). "How about Ozzie and Harriet?" Perfect. Ozzie stayed for a day or two. My wife said that Ozzie was making sure Harry had a good home.

Pine Cones in a Sycamore Tree

2011-09-10T08:37:00.000-07:00

Sixteen Candles

Photo by

Teresa West Carter

My youngest child is sixteen. Sixteen years of yesterdays.

Where did they go?

Hanging over our deck are the branches of a Sycamore tree. Zaccheus would have difficulty climbing this one. A Muscadine vine has taken residence in the branches, dropping grapes onto the deck for Harry the cat's entertainment. There is something else in the branches, something odd; pine cones. I first noticed them a few months ago. Pine cones in a Sycamore tree. As I pondered this anomaly, I looked higher and discovered that a Pine tree towers above the Sycamore. So I wonder, am I the Sycamore, the pine cones or the muscadine?

Sometimes I have odd thoughts.

I suppose. And yet, into this life some pine cones must fall.

Happy Birthday, Emma.

Watch out for the pine cones.

Machines for Selling | Comment Magazine | Cardus

2011-08-27T07:10:00.000-07:00

Machines for Selling | Comment Magazine | Cardus

I grew up in a town with the 'family market'- Lee's grocery. Our family had an account (a small notepad behind the counter, on which the clerk would write the date and amount). In the back was the meat counter where you could order a bologna sandwich. Everyone in the store knew our family, by name. I miss Lee's.

Joy In The Journey

2011-08-20T07:23:00.000-07:00

"The nature of God is a circle

of which the center is everywhere

and the circumference is nowhere."

Empedocles, 490-430 BC

The smell of coffee brewing and bacon sizzling reminds me that the journey can be as wonder-filled as the destination. Fellow artists- enjoy the journey! And remember, with art we are all students.

My love for math ended in the Third grade. Standing at the blackboard with chalk in hand, I stared at the problem before me while my teacher and peers looked on. Before that moment, math was my favorite subject, but with the introduction of long division, there occasionally came something previously unseen in my mathematical career- a remainder. Heretofore, problems worked out neatly. Two plus two equaled four. Seven minus one equaled six. There was closure that, for me, was satisfying. With division, there was the possibility of leftover numbers. I didn't like that. So my division always worked out even. No remainders. Ever. To correct this, my teacher called me to the board one day. I began the problem and as I neared the end I realized it wasn't going to work out even. So I drew a line under the last number and wrote 'zero'. A few people laughed while the teacher sighed. She explained the problem. I understood the problem. But, I didn't like it.

It was years before I understood why.

As I consider the notion of teaching art, a thought continues to surface- from caves to chapels, art is about choices.

As Dorothy Sayers eloquently says, art begins in the mind of the maker. And then, let the choices begin. Color, size, material...

I have been working (trudging slowly) through the process of illustrating a children's book. Every artist's process is personal. Mine involves trial-and-error. A lot of error. I begin with thumbnails. Like these:

Eventually, an image evolves.

Final Version

For this series, I arrived at producing pieces on a variety of materials, from papyrus to wood. This piece is on cardboard from a Zao water box-

Exodus 17:6

A matter of choice brings me back to my third grade blackboard. Standing there, staring at the problem (gently corrected by my teacher), this thought began to form-

Why is there only one correct answer?

I understand, and take comfort in the fact that, in this life, there are singular absolutes. I also revel in the wonder of this thing we call art, because with art we have as many correct answers as we have artists. And, as Michael Card says, "there is a joy in the journey."

A new video from my son, Samuel:

A Poem From Estonia

2011-07-11T18:18:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I ran out of coffee. Not a single bean in the house. Those of you who know me recognize the gravity of the situation. This morning I drank hot tea. There is a place in the Kingdom for a steaming cup of black tea, but it will never replace a cup of of well-roasted Sumatra. But sometimes it's good to change routine.

Last week a few friends came for fish tacos- Andrew, Janell, Spencer, Libby and Hanna. Good food, good conversation, laughter. Hanna, a ministry school student, made two significant contributions to the evening:

1. a cake

2. a poem

in Estonian

Both were amazing.

Here is Hanna's poem, in English and Estonian-

The Marks of Shadows

Hanna-Liisa Reinpuu

When you are walking on the road

you can't see behind yourself.

When you turn around

you roll up the past

Afraid to knock, afraid to open,

afraid to share your dreams.

Why don't you continue the road

that you started when you were born?

Why are you shaken by somebody

who doesn't care about your dreams?

His flattery tangles you in the trap

you don't know how to let go from his firm grip.

..and by slow degrees all beauty will fade to oblivion.

You are running on fire

feet in the air.

You think you can leave without leaving a mark.

Estonian Version

Varjude jäljed

Hanna-Liisa Reinpuu

Kui mööda teed Sa kõnnid

ci näe Sa enda taha

Ümber pöõrates Sa rullid

lahti mineviku paha.

Kardad koputada, kardad avada,

kardad oma unistusi jagada.

Miks ei jãtka sa teckonda,

mida alustasid sündides?

Miks kõigutab sind keegi,

kes su unistustest ei hooli?

Ta meelitavad sõnad mässivad sind püùnisesse,

ei oska sa lahti öelda ta hoardest.

...ja vaikselt kòik ilus vajub unustusse.

Sa jooksed kui tulel

jalgu maha panemata

Arvad, et vòid laukuda jälgi jätmata.

Hanna's Cake

For more Estonian poetry, Hanna suggests reading the work of Juhan Liiv, one of Estonia's favorite poets.

Re-Purposing and Kingdom Ethics

2011-07-03T09:55:00.000-07:00

Camp Stephen Mural Backdrop

Acrylic on canvas

12' x 5'

Teresa Carter

"The passing years and the artistic life have taught me that past, present and future are realities only so long as I dwell on this globe that whirls around a star."

Vinita Hampton Wright

"There are two things you should know: first, what you are; second, that you are not what you are by your own power."

Bernard of Clairvaux

1090-1153

Youth camp ended Friday, at noon. Samuel and Emma experienced the week as campers, Teresa as a teacher, leading a group in art projects, and me as a kitchen volunteer. There is much time for reflection while chopping and cooking and mopping and dish-washing (my hi-lite was learning, thanks to Aaron Hershberger, to toss a pizza!). My respect for all who serve in the kitchen is now one of admiration.

While trimming the fat from a case of chicken, I meditated on the notion of creativity, specifically, where and how ideas occur for these creatures known as 'artists'. I am grateful for a memorial designer named Eugene H. Faehnle. He led a design workshop I attended in Elberton, Ga., almost twenty five years ago. On day one, he said, "It occurred to me one day that many of the designs in my industry have not changed in more than half a century. The traditional 20th Century memorial is, what I call, a P2 SerpBurp with corner clutter and band aids (see below for 'tombstone terminology'). I began to take note of contemporary design, as it relates to other fields. I realized something. Companies spend millions on good design. So, I drove to the local drug store and walked the aisles, noting product shapes and dimensions."

Eugene H. Faehnle revolutionized American memorial design by re-purposing good design. He passed away several years ago but his memory is honored by the American Institute of Commemorative Art's Annual Design Contest.

P2 SerpBurp w/Corner Clutter & Band Aids

I owe Eugene Faehnle a great debt. He stands in line with those who have helped shape the way I see. He reminds me that we, along with our 'ideas', are not our own; we are a part of a collaborative collective, stewards of creative moments meant to enhance, encourage and educate others. I have a list of concepts I keep tucked away, a group of pieces I plan to realize one day. While trimming chicken fat in a church kitchen, I had this thought- what if God, in His infinite generosity, gives me more ideas than I can generate so that I might give them to other artists/students? What if I posted a project concept on an international bulletin board and an artist in Tokyo had the means and time to realize it in a way I never imagined? After all, we who claim the name of Christ, are not owners but stewards, even over 'intellectual property rights'. It's Kingdom Ethics fleshed out.

I have compiled a list of a few concepts I have tucked away and I am making them available to anyone interested. You can click here for a PDF link, or, if you email, I will send a hand-written list from one of my yellow legal pads- old fashioned, USPS snail mail. Everybody loves mail. If you see something you decide to produce you don't have to tell anyone you got the concept from a guy in South Carolina (tho' I would be thrilled to hear from an artist in Tokyo). My email address is- shekhinah@juno.com.

Tombstone Terminology

P2- Polished two sides

Serp- Serpentine Top

Burp (BRP)- Balance rock pitched

Breath of Life

2011-06-26T19:16:00.000-07:00

Arundo donax is listed as a noxious weed in Texas, an exotic plant pest in California, an invasive weed in Hawaii, and as an invasive, exotic pest in Tennessee. Arundo donax, a.k.a., Giant Reed, is also the primary source of clarinet reeds.

My friend Martin Powell is a virtuoso clarinetist and I have been blessed to hear him perform twice in the past week. Both times he played the Adagio Movement from Mozart's Clarinet Concerto. The first time was evening in the Grand Cafe of Heritage International, the second time was morning on Prayer Mountain in Moravian Falls, NC. Whether morning or evening, large group or small, Martin was one with the instrument- the picture of discipline and devotion; public evidence of years spent in solitude. The sound produced by Martin's breath passing over a reed defies my intellect and inspires my imagination. To watch an instrument submit to a musician, as the clarinet does to Martin, confirms for me the power attainable when the created works with the creator. Teresa of Avila puts it thus, "...Martha and Mary walking together."

View from Prayer Mountain

Genesis 2:7 reads, 'Then the LORD God formed man of dust from the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living being.' The word translated 'being' is, in the Hebrew, neh-fesh; literally- 'one who breathes'.

When Martin Powell plays Mozart's Clarinet Concerto all of creation hears the breath of life.

Martin Powell

can you hear me now?

2011-06-18T07:36:00.000-07:00

shema

Strong's #8085

to hear, to listen, to understand, to obey

Last night, I asked my wife, "If your life was a movie, what channel would it be on?" She thought for a moment and said, "The Discovery Channel."

I like that.

So I am reading through the Old Testament in a different translation than I usually read and I come across this-

God asked Solomon,

"What do you want? Ask, and I will give it to you."

Solomon said,

"Give me an understanding heart so that I can govern Your people well and know the difference between right and wrong."

An understanding heart. God liked that. In the Hebrew, the word translated understanding is

shema,

a word that is, according to my Lexical Aids to the Old Testament,

...one of the most important verbs in the Hebrew Old Testament. It appears 1,160 times. The main idea is perceiving a message or sensing a sound.'

What we all want, ultimately, is security. We want assurance that our needs are secured. The need for food, shelter, money... hope must become fact. Security must become an indelible stain on our hearts and minds because the threat of insecurity is dibilitating to the soul. Perhaps Solomon knew that to hear God is security.

"Hear (shema), O Israel! The LORD is our God, the LORD is one!"

Hearing From God in Walmart

2011-05-30T13:23:00.000-07:00

"Give us this day our daily bread."

Matthew 6:11

When praying for 'daily bread' becomes a personal reality you learn to be a good listener. Several years ago my family and I were involved in a 'faith-based' ministry (another way of saying the pay comes from God's hand). Many days our son would ask, "What's for dinner?" My wife would say, "Whatever God provides." We never missed a meal. One day my wife made a grocery list. She placed it on the kitchen counter and said, out loud, "Lord, this is what we need. I'm asking You for it." Later that day, we returned home to find 14 grocery bags on our front porch. Everything from my wife's list was there, and, items not on the list like cookies and ice cream (it hadn't melted). I guess God cares about dessert.

On grocery expeditions I try to be Spirit-led, praying while walking between aisles of food. Today I was in Walmart and I asked, "Lord, what can I get today?" My current funds were limited, so I knew His response would be short. I heard 'milk and sugar.' Now, I know some of you reading this will be rolling your eyes at this point. "Come on, Mike. The voice of God in Walmart?! Maybe in the Middle East or a burning building!" As I said, praying for daily bread is a personal reality for my family. Interesting thing about 'daily bread'- it's daily. We Americans prefer 'monthly', stockpiled, pantry-filled bread. The 'what I want when I want it' bread. When the cupboard is bare we worry. The issue for me is one of trust. Do I trust (believe) that God loves me?

I love hearing music performed live. My son and I have been to a few amazing performances in the past few months and every time there is a moment I look for- the look of knowing. It is a look exchanged across the stage between musicians, followed with a brief smile. The look of knowing says, "That's it! Well done." I believe God has a look of knowing when we pray, from the heart, "Give us this day our daily bread."

Psalm 19
Roz Dimon
Click here for a beautiful interaction with Psalm 19

Moments of Beauty

2011-05-05T18:32:00.000-07:00

"Artists of the world, may your different paths all lead to that infinite Ocean of beauty where wonder becomes awe, exhilaration, unspeakable joy."
Pope John Paul II
Letter To Artists
1999

There was in the Art Room today
a moment of complete and total silence. It happened during fifth period. I looked up from my work to see a classroom of high school students working, silently immersed in the process of picture making. It was a moment of beauty.

Google Results for beauty

Moments of beauty abound. I understand what it means 'to teach'. Well, at least most of the time. I feel right, true in design, when I am teaching. For me, teaching is a series of beautiful moments, and the most beautiful is the 'aha' moment. Every true teacher lives for the 'aha', the exclamatory- εὕρηκα (I have discovered it)! Good teachers know that the 'aha' is reciprocal. Here are a few personal 'aha' moments I was recently blessed by:

The Lion, The Sheep and The Fire

Acrylic on paper

My wife was visiting a friend and one of the children, a five-year-old, was painting. When the friend's daughter finished, she presented the painting to my wife. It is amazing. With economy of stroke the child rendered a lion leading sheep though a fire. Picasso said, "Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once we grow up." I am looking at the painting now, it hangs in our kitchen, and the words of Jesus speak to my Soul, "Truly I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child will not enter it at all."

Backwards Logic

Cyanotype Proof

Christopher Shreve

One of my students has been working/ruminating on an art project for months. He will tell you, as he has me on numerous occasions, "I can't do art." He and I have shared hours of conversation, on a variety of topics, and I know that his mind yearns for logical order. One day I asked, "Do you know of the unsolved proofs?" This question began a new series of conversations, culminating in a printmaking project appropriately titled- Backwards Logic. I watched him today as he carefully arranged layers of formulas, screen printed on vellum, in a precise pattern. It was a moment of beauty. It was art.

Jamie Morgan - Enamored from Shutter Down on Vimeo.

Another moment of beauty occurred this morning before school. Teresa and I attended the Twenty Fourth Annual YMCA Community Prayer Breakfast. The speaker was James Morgan, President and CEO of Krispy Kreme Doughnuts. He shared his heart, the heart of a father, with 2.200 people in the Grand Ballroom of the NASCAR Hall of Fame. His sincerity and humility ministered to me. Then he introduced his son, Jamie, to the crowd. It was a beautiful moment. Jamie spoke and sang with an honesty that is refreshing, and again, it was a moment of beauty.

To hear more of Jamie Morgan's music click here.

I think, however, today's top 'aha' award goes to a colleague- Amy McNelis. Today is recognized as the National Day of Prayer and she led some of the students in a group prayer.
Thank you, Amy, for that moment of beauty.

Voices of Sudan

2011-04-18T07:02:00.000-07:00

"A 'worldly Christian'? What a misnomer.
You might as well talk about a heavenly devil."
Billy Sunday

David Johnson is changing the way we see our world, one picture at a time. Last Thursday I had the privilege of meeting him. He shared his story with my students and within the span of one hour an eternity of possibilities were revealed; a story about the most powerful force in the universe- the love of God, fleshed out through a faithful follower of Christ.

David Johnson is the President and Founder of Silent Images, a non-profit organization whose mission is to give voice to the voiceless.
Here is the Mission Statement:

MISSION
Silent Images is a non-profit 501 (c) 3 organization that seeks to tell the stories of hope in the midst of persecution, poverty, or oppression through journalistic photography, videography, and writing. The stories and images are provided to non-profit organizations in an effort to educate and be a voice for the voiceless around the world.

David's message to the students of Trinity Christian Preparatory School was a call to arms; a challenge, I pray, some will accept.

Curriculum, Rubrics and Things People Say

2011-04-10T18:52:00.000-07:00

cur·ric·u·lum (k-rky-lm)

Origin: L, lit., a running course, race, career
latin; currere, to run

a fixed series of studies required, as in a college, for graduation,

qualification in a major field of study, etc.

I love questions. Well, some questions, the ones that cut to the chase. Certain questions are fun, like, "Does God have favorite colors?" He does use blue and green alot. Some questions are tricky.
How about these:

Where is the line that separates contentment and apathy?

When does confidence become arrogance?

What is the value of a teardrop, or a timely word?

And then, there are questions that chafe our minds, leaving blisters on our pride. These are the questions that speak to underlying issues. These are the questions we pose to ourselves. A few weeks ago a parent said to me, "I don't even know what you do." What I do? I was offended. For nearly two years her child has been a student in my art classes. Then I asked myself, "What did she mean by that?" My mind traveled all over the board, from the Slough of Despond to the Valley of Humiliation (to borrow from John Bunyan). I searched the ancient records (my lesson plans), checking them against State and National Standards (which they met or exceeded). Finally, a classic movie line came to me- "What we've got here is failure to communicate" (voted #11 in American Film Institutes' 100 Movie Quotes Poll- click here to see the entire list), from Cool Hand Luke.

Daily, I am inundated with the thought process of the teenage mind so I understand a few things about it (2 of my 5 children still remain in this category). Here is one thing I know- as a general rule, teenagers don't communicate well with their parents, especially when it comes to school-related matters. And, in their defense, after spending all day doing schoolwork they don't want to give a recap in the evening. As a result, many parents have no idea what occurs in their child's classrooms, unless something exciting or challenging happens, and that is why the comment from the parent went deep. My job, as a teacher, is to communicate. I am called to meet students where they are and lead them further. I must be persistent and consistent. This includes ongoing conversation with parents.

So, I must say, "Thank you!" to the parent who reminded me that my job doesn't end when the bell rings.

I have been asked, on occasion, "How did my child get a 'C' in Art?"
Here is the answer-

1. Occasionally pays attention
2. Completes every other assignment
(odd or even, the student's choice)
3. Finishes assignments as quickly, and poorly, as possible
4. Files a formal request for mediocrity
(see below)

Formal Request
For Mediocrity

On a more serious note, here is the rubric I developed for Westminster Academy, Memphis, TN-

On Priorities, Performance and Purpose

2011-03-05T16:10:00.000-08:00

Isaiah 61:1

It has been said, "Be careful what you pray for- you may get it!" On September 30, 2007, I was in Winston-Salem listening to Roger Wiles give an eloquent message to the Covenant of Grace congregation. His sermon included this passage:

The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me,

because the Lord has anointed me to bring good news

to the afflicted;

He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,

to proclaim liberty to captives,

and freedom to prisoners

Isaiah 61:1

As I meditated on the passage I prayed this- "Lord, give me the afflicted and brokenhearted youth of the Piedmont and by Your grace and strength I will help teach them." Two years later, God answered that prayer. I did not realize how challenging the task would be. And so, I did what I have always done- I went into 'Martha-Mode', pouring my time and energy into lesson plans, study, reading countless articles... exhaustion ad infinitum.

A few weeks ago I heard these familiar words, "Michael, Michael, you are worried and bothered about so many things", words originally spoken by Jesus to Martha. I can relate to Martha. Here is a piece of her story:

Now as they were traveling along, Jesus entered a certain village; and a woman named Martha welcomed Him into her home. And she had a sister called Mary, who moreover was listening to the Lord's word, seated at His feet. But Martha was distracted with all her preparations; and she came up to Him, and said, "Lord, do You not care that my sister has left me to do all the serving alone? Then tell her to help me." But the Lord answered and said to her, "Martha, Martha, you are worried and bothered about so many things; but only a few things are necessary, really only one, for Mary has chosen the good part, which shall not be taken away from her."

Luke 10:38-42 NAS

Here are a few comparisons:

Martha - Mary

Busyness - Simplicity

Alone and Grumbling - With Jesus and Listening

Focused on doing - Focused on being

Many things - One thing

I received my work ethic from my father, a hard-working man who, at 78 years of age goes into the office six days a week. I believe work is important. I believe work honors God. But yesterday I realized that all my life I have worked for one purpose- acceptance; I wanted a father's approval. When performance becomes more important than purpose, priorities realign- a realignment that becomes cancerous. It is subtle, insidious and at enmity with the unit known as family. I have allowed it to come between me and my family.

I am a Martha who desperately wants to be a Mary, but this I know- I am accepted by God the Father. And tomorrow is a new day.

Wednesday, during faculty prayer, Bruce Corwin (Trinity's Principal), played a song by Misty Edwards. The song is written from God's perspective as He sings over us. The title-

'I Knew What I Was Getting Into'. Here is the link:

Teaching To The RMS

2011-02-17T19:11:00.000-08:00

Root Mean Square

Digital

Michael R. Carter

2011

In the Spring of 1974

a miracle occurred- I graduated from High School. It happened in spite of myself. My interest, my goal, my life was music- specifically, the band. I played a Farfisa Combo Compact with two Leslie 145's stacked (some of you reading this will actually know what that means). In my Senior year I played every weekend- teen clubs and skating rinks in two states. Life was good. Behind the band was a wall of amps- Marshall, Crate, Orange, Peavey. Quantity made up for quality. One thing we knew- the music had to be loud. When discussing amps, two things always came up- peak-to-peak and RMS. The first deals with an amplifier's potential. The second- the consistent average. Musicians are interested in the consistent average, the RMS.

In this moment, 37 years later, another miracle continues-

I teach High School.

God, in His infinite wisdom and humor, has called me to teach the very age I least enjoyed being. Now, thirty seven years later, I finally understand the difference between peak-to-peak and RMS. I am surrounded by students with uncharted potential, content with their RMS. I am surrounded by versions of my 1974 self, a person oblivious to potential, and I am concerned.

May God give me strategies.

Judy Racz

2011-01-22T10:22:00.000-08:00

Creation Primordial Chaos
Oil on canvas
"I see the whole world as a holy place,
a reflection of the glory of an infinite, yet loving God."
Judy Racz

Inspiration is a curious thing; never sure of when it may 'show up', it is almost always welcome. Much like Jesus' descriptive language to Nicodemus in John 3, inspiration can be "like the wind." The word inspire is, after all, from the Latin inspirare- to breathe upon or into. The works of Judy Racz inspire me.

Here is a sample:

Gravity Waves

Mixed media on canvas

David and Jonathan Make a Pact

Oil on canvas

Transfiguration of Jesus

Oil on Canvas

Symphony No. 2, Gustav Mahler, Movement 3

Oil on canvas

Ayin

Oil on linen

Gimel

Oil on linen

Aleph

Oil on linen

To read about Judy Racz and view more of her work go to-

http://home.vicnet.net.au/~richard/racz.htm

and

http://www.members.optusnet.com.au/judy_racz/

Capturing Moments

2011-01-12T10:02:00.000-08:00

"Well, I suppose nothing is meant to last forever."

Vivian Maier

1926-2009

Unchecked, moments become days and, without notice, a decade seems but a moment. The Apostle James says that our lives are "just a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away" and with the vanishing, brilliance dims to obscurity. That was not to be for Vivian Maier. Her story is being heard and 'seen' around the world. Currently most of her work is owned by John Maloof, the man who purchased several boxes of negatives and prints from a storage auction in Chicago. In time her work will be displayed in major permanent collections. Vivian Maier captured moments for us, seemingly for just 'la joie de l'artisanat'- the joy of the craft.

I am grateful.

To find out more:

For an excellent story on Chicago Tonight, click here.

New Year

2011-01-01T07:08:00.000-08:00

"The end of a matter is better than its beginning."

Ecclesiastes 7:8

"Let all souls praise God,

Halleluyah!"

The final verse in the final chapter of the Psalter

Psalm 150

"Far greater than the most sublime instrumental songs of praise is the song of the human soul. God's greatest praise is the soul that utilizes its full potential in His service."

Rabbi David Kimchi, known as RaDaK

1160-1235

Today begins the second decade of the Twenty-First Century. The first day of a new year is, for me, like early morning; anything is possible, hope renewed, a second chance. The first day is also a day of reflection. Where did the year go? How did I spend my time?

According to a chart by Dr. Edward M. Hallowell, the person who lives to be seventy-five possesses 39,420,000 minutes to spend. I have 10,500,000 left.

A few of my 'minutes spent' are recorded here:

Sam and me in the studio recording Neon Fish

many years ago

Joshua and Sam recording on Sam's iPad
Christmas 2010

Our First Date

many years ago

A recent date

recently

This year came with three snowfalls, a rare occurrence for Fort Mill, South Carolina, and an opportunity for walks in the wood.

January

February

December

This year marked the beginning of my second year with Trinity Christian Preparatory School; an exhilarating chapter in the journey of life.

Bruce Corwin and me

Operation Christmas Child, Samaritan's Purse

Charlotte, NC Facility

And a good day in Brazil-

Me and Tom Owen, 1992

So This is Christmas

2010-12-25T10:14:00.000-08:00

Nativity
Giotto
1304-06

"So this is Christmas,

And what have you done?

Another year over, And a new one just begun"

John Lennon

What is Christmas? Every year I ask this question and wonder why I can't seem to 'catch the spirit of the season'. For me, 'tis the season for Christmas malaise (for an eloquent discourse by David Taylor, click here). Many times I have been donned Scrooge. This year I decided would be different- I would be prepared with handmade gifts, I would make a long-overdue trip to see out-of-town family, and, I would change my attitude about what the Holy day called Christmas has become. Alas, some gifts are still in progress, the trip hasn't happened (yet) and my attitude is being worked on. After all, I am grateful for Christmas; a reminder that I am loved by the Creator and Owner of eternity.

So we give gifts. I am ashamed to say I don't remember many past Christmas gifts, given or received. There is one gift however that my family still talks about. My sisters and I were young and we wanted to give our parents something 'from us'. Pop gave us the money and Mom drove us to the store. Proudly we presented our hand-picked treasures that Christmas morn. There were smiles and 'thank-yous'. Then Pop opened my sister Debbie's gift. A pause ensued as Pop held up an art gum eraser. Finally the explanation- at some point in the shopping process my sister remembered the purpose of the trip. She then had enough money left to buy a gum eraser.

So many times I have gone to God the Father and said, "I have nothing to offer You. I've spent it all on myself." As I ponder the 'thing' my sister chose to give my Father that Christmas- an eraser, I realize it may well be the perfect gift a child can offer a parent.

When we talk of a man doing anything for God or giving anything to God, I will tell you what it is really like. It is like a small child going to his father and saying, "Daddy, give me sixpence to buy you a birthday present." Of course, the father does, and he is pleased with the child's present. It is all very nice and proper, but only an idiot would think that the father is sixpence to the good on the transaction.

(C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity)

Thanksgiving

2010-11-25T10:45:00.000-08:00

Thanksgiving Cinnamon Roll
Recipe#76864
recipezaar.com

"Be cheerful no matter what;

pray all the time; thank God no matter what happens.

This is the way God wants you who belong to

Christ Jesus to live."

I Thessalonians 5:16-18

The Message

Places of being can be strange at times; where we are, where we want to be, where we should be, but where are we going? In the midst of morning 'rush-hour', to what are we rushing? A favorite quote of mine is from Jim Elliot, martyred for the sake of Christ-

"Wherever you are, be all there. Live to the hilt every situation you believe to be the will of God."

Praise God for the national holiday we call Thanksgiving, a day of food and family; a day to stop and 'give thanks'. This morning, thanks to recipezaar, we enjoyed homemade cinnamon rolls. As I kneaded the dough I thought about the purpose of kneading, so, I looked it up. The knead process develops gluten, a protein in rye, wheat and barley. Gluten helps the dough with:

elasticity

absorbency

and

rising

An aspect of the Christian walk I don't enjoy is being kneaded by the hand of God, but I am thankful for the 'gluten of my soul' that is developed. I trust His hands.

Nota bene- On Kneading
One by-product of choosing to knead bread dough is that the activity is really fine exercise. Bakers have a chance to work their upper body muscles, and gain some mental satisfaction from the process as well. While neither of these two perks of kneading dough have any bearing on the flavor or texture of the bread, they often are quite beneficial to the temperament of the baker.
http://www.wisegeek.com/why-do-you-need-to-knead-bread-dough.htm

And now, a short film by my son Samuel ( a young man who enjoys living "to the hilt")-

2010-10-31T05:53:00.000-07:00

A few of my journals

"If you enjoy something in this world without saying a blessing,

it is as if you stole it."

Talmud Berachot 35A

"Remember now thy Creator

in the days of thy youth."

Ecclesiastes 12:1

Thursday evening, Sam, my 16-year-old son shared his heart with his youth group. He spoke about the parable of the talents, the story of a master who, before going on a journey, entrusted his possessions to his servants. The crux of his meditation was Matt. 25:25, when upon the master's return, one servant replied, "I was afraid, and I went away and hid your talent in the ground; see, you have what is yours."

'I was afraid...'

My son, Sam, said to a roomful of teenagers, "Alot of people say, 'I can't _____, or, I'm not ______ (fill in the blanks) because of fear. Fear keeps us from doing and being."
My son ministered to me as he spoke. Sam reminded me that fear is the great forgetter, and that a lie repeated and believed begins to sound like truth. He reminded me why I journal, and, why I return to former journals. I need to remember from whence I've come.

The fearful servant in the parable hid his master's possession. Centuries before, another servant spoke of hiding something. He said, "I have hidden Your word in my heart, that I might not sin against You." Psalm 119:11. Eugene Peterson words it this way- "I've banked your promises in the vault of my heart so I won't sin myself bankrupt."

I praise God for my Sam. He has the energy and passion of youth on his side. He is a blessing to me. And, he reminds me that through Christ I can do all things.

Introductions

2010-10-16T15:36:00.000-07:00

introduce- in-truh-doos

to present (a person) to another so as to make acquainted.
L intrōdūcere to lead inside, equiv. to intrō-intro- + dūcere to lead
from Dictionary.com

It's a long life, baby,
when you reach out broken hands and feel
that there are no hands reaching back for you.
When the worlds gone crazy,
I make a cry of desperation
and hear my echo bouncing off cold walls.
All I know, is it's a long life baby.
Chorus- Mile Long Driveway
by Jeremy Current

A necessary part of being human means meeting other humans. Sometimes we introduce ourselves, sometimes we are introduced by others. This week I finished reading two books- My Name is Asher Lev by Chaim Potok and What God Starts, God Completes by Michael Milton. Both were autobiographies, the one about an imagined person, the other real. Since childhood I have enjoyed reading biographies, especially autobiographies. Everyone has a story. It takes courage to share the story with others.

I will never meet Asher Lev, though I was introduced to the fictional character by my friend Amy AcNelis (a fellow bibliophile and extraordinary teacher of English). I did meet Michael Milton. My good friend Glen Robinson invited me to attend a dinner with him; a celebratory introduction to the Chancellor/CEO Elect of Reformed Theological Seminary, Dr. Michael Milton. When Dr. Milton introduced himself to me he gave me a bear hug. He exuded joy that cannot be faked. As I watched and listened that evening, the words of Jesus came to my mind, "Behold a true Israelite, in whom there is no guile!" RTS is blessed indeed.

Relationships begin with an introduction.
Sometimes those introductions lead to a better understanding of ourselves.

"Let me tell you why you are here. You're here to be salt-seasoning that brings out the God-flavors of this earth. If you lose your saltiness how will people taste godliness...you're here to be light, bringing out the God-colors in the world."
Matthew 5
The Message

One Fish At A Time

2010-10-03T06:36:00.000-07:00

The Tribute Money

Masaccio

1426-1427

Fresco, 255 x 598 cm
Cappella Brancacci, Santa Maria del Carmine, Florence

Thursday, I discussed the life and work of Masaccio with my students. We viewed a slide of The Tribute Money as I retold the story from Matthew 17:24-27. There is a moment in this story that captivates me. Here is the scene, from The Message-

24 When they arrived at Capernaum, the tax men came to Peter and asked, "Does your teacher pay taxes?" 25 Peter said, "Of course." But as soon as they were in the house, Jesus confronted him. "Simon, what do you think? When a king levies taxes, who pays--his children or his subjects?"26 He answered, "His subjects." Jesus said, "Then the children get off free, right? 27 But so we don't upset them needlessly, go down to the lake, cast a hook, and pull in the first fish that bites. Open its mouth and you'll find a coin. Take it and give it to the tax men. It will be enough for both of us."

Detail

Simon Peter and the fish

Here is the moment that grabs me- "cast a hook".

The greek word for hook in this verse is agkistron and is used once in the entire New Testament. I commented to my students that fishing in 1st Century Galilee usually involved the casting of nets. So, I asked my students, "Why did Jesus tell Peter to use a hook?" I posed the question to all 5 art classes and each time at least one student responded, "Because he only needed to catch one fish!" Truth is elegantly simple. One fish contained one coin which was sufficient for two.

Detail

Removing the coin

Matthew Henry's commentary reads:

"Peter felt sure his Master was ready to do what was right. Christ spoke first to give him proof that no thought can be withholden from Him. We must never decline our duty for fear of giving offense; but we must sometimes deny ourselves in our worldly interests, rather than give offense. However the money was lodged in the fish, He who knows all things alone could know it, and only Almighty power could bring it to Peter's hook. The power and the poverty of Christ should be mentioned together. If called by providence to be poor, like our Lord, let us trust in His power, and our God shall supply all our need, according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus. In the way of obedience, in the course, perhaps, of our usual calling, as He helped Peter, so He will help us. And if any sudden call should occur, which we are not prepared to meet, let us not apply to others, till we first seek Christ."

Back From the Wild

2010-09-18T17:06:00.000-07:00

"In wilderness I sense the miracle of life, and behind it our scientific accomplishments fade to trivia."

Charles A. Lindbergh

Fall Camp 2010

At the beginning of every school year, the students and staff of Trinity Prep spend a week at Camp Harrison, nearly 2200 acres of God's handiwork, in the Piedmont region of North Carolina. Yesterday we returned home. Here are a few memories-

Doris and Ruth

Our Cooks

A Biscuit Recipe from Doris

11/2 cups White Lily flour, self-rising (the best in Doris' opinion)

1 cup whipping cream

combine ingredients and roll out to 1/2"

bake @375 degrees to desired brown

(8-10 minutes)

(Doris fixed me a batch- they are amazing)

Ian, Me and Matt

The Overlook

'If you send them forward on their journey in a manner worthy of God, you will do well.'

III John 1:6

To Sing,To Laugh, To Cry

2010-08-08T06:42:00.000-07:00

After the Song

The Evening Muse stage

"Homo sum: humani nil a me alienum puto-"

I am a man, and nothing human is alien to me.

Terence, Playwright, c.190-158 BC

"But we have this treasure in earthenware vessels to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us."

Paul of Tarsus, Tent maker, 1st Century AD

I am a creature of habit- my day begins early with a jog/walk around the lake, cups of coffee, reading and, most importantly, silence. And then, time shifts into chronos cruise and the silence is ended. Routine can be good. Routine can also form ruts. I praise God for surrounding me with people who are helping me understand the condition called human. They help my "social jet lag", defined by Wired magazine as "chronic exhaustion due to persistent conflict between your scheduling software and your body clock." They help keep me from becoming a curmudgeonly teacher by reminding me that to live is to sing, to laugh, and to cry- so, in this bit of rambling I reflect on and share insights from a few of the fellow travelers that enrich the journey.

Sam, my youngest son, amazes and impresses me. Funny, clever (when Sam was a child we disciplined him by giving his bottom a smack with a wooden spoon until, one day, all the spoons were gone. When asked about this, he replied, "I threw them away!") and talented, Sam keeps me apprised of new music. Thursday night, I went with Sam and Emma to listen to a couple of Sam's favorite musicians- Jeremy Current and Flagship. The venue was The Evening Muse in the NODA district of Charlotte, NC. The evening reminded me that my heart yearns for live music, which leads to my friend Hugh Gill.

Jeremy Current

Live at The Evening Muse

Hugh Gill is working on a collection of original worship music- songs for soaking. Sunday afternoon I was privileged to record a vocal track on one of the songs- reminding me there is goodness in singing, and, as my friend Karen Kolzow reminded me, in singing there is life. Karen told me that while reflecting on Matthew 10:29, 'Are not two sparrows sold for a cent? And yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father.', the heart of the Father said to her, "With every bird that falls there is one less song in the world." Shift the focus from death to life!

Hugh playing a new song

Hugh and me

In this life there is sorrow. Job said, "Man who is born of a woman, is short-lived and full of turmoil." The poetry of Tedd Galloway is a ministry to my soul- his words remind me of the frailty of my humanity. As Melissa Helser said, "I cry because I am alive." There is a time to cry. There is also a time to be silent. "Of You, silence is praise." Psalm 65:2 Hebrew Bible.

J.D. Mosiman is in the throes of making prophetic art- paintings that speak with a praise of silence. He stands on the threshold of a series that will impact many lives- one more reminder that we were made to make.

So, thank you Sam and Hugh and Karen and Tedd and J.D.

You are much loved and much needed.

Fans of the morning, generally annoyed by my jog

Afroduck and friends

The 9th of Av

2010-07-21T19:03:00.000-07:00

The Magic Bean

rendered on a Starbuck's napkin

Today ends a three-week coffee fast (it tastes different than I remember). Coffee, the earthly pleasure I enjoy most, was my choice for 'Between the Straits' (בין המצרים)- a three-week period of fasts, lament and prayer. Traditional Jewish observances include bathing abstinence, avoiding 'freshly laundered' clothing, the absence of music, food, celebrations and dancing. I'm not Jewish but I felt compelled to participate. So, for three-weeks I chose to not drink coffee. Almost immediately my body let me know how important coffee had become. There was much prayer. As I now look into my cup, I ponder, "What a strange thing, this black elixir whose grip rivals illegal narcotics."

I have friends who roast coffee. The process is thus:

When the inside of the bean reaches 200C (392F) internal moisture is released as steam. The steam releases aroma and an audible crack is heard. This stage is sometimes called City Roast. The temperature causes oils to migrate, expanding and darkening the bean. If the roasting continues, a second crack is heard (Vienna Roast). This 'second' crack is more volatile, sending coffee shrapnel flying. As the roasting continues the aroma becomes pungent, the sugars burn and the bean begins to break down (French Roast). The bean undergoes change- chemically and physically. As moisture is released, the bean decreases in weight and increases in volume.

The spiritual path is somewhat like the 'roasting' process. We traverse this life as one passing through fire, often between the straits, and The Lord God controls the temperature. Some of us, it seems, are City Roast while others are French Roast. He knows our frame. He knows our expected end.

He also knows I enjoy coffee.

Cafe Anglais

2010-07-19T14:20:00.000-07:00

Patrons of my Cafe Anglais

Yesterday concluded 23 days of High School English- summer school is ended! Today I remembered a few of my former English teachers. I'm pretty sure they would be astonished to hear that I am now a high school teacher. At the beginning of my senior year a guidance counselor informed me I had failed sophomore English (a fact that, to this day, eludes my memory) and must repeat it. So, in my final year of high school I trudged to English class- twice daily. Now, thirty-six years later, I am captivated by the subject. It seems fitting that I, having failed a course in English, should one day teach the subject to students who also failed. The first day of class I had the students answer the following: "Why do you think you are here?" Responses included-

"... because I am lazy and my last English teacher disagreed with my views, so she graded me harshly."

"because I lack the motivation to do anything!"

"I hate school and usually give up when my grades go down."

Thirty-six years ago their responses would have been mine. I determined to make these twenty-three days meaningful. It was exhausting. Here is a typical day;

-write an acrostic sentence

-read and discuss chapter 7, Through the Looking Glass

-etymology discussion

-read and discuss The Red Wheelbarrow

-read and discuss a poem by Wm. Wordsworth

-read and discuss The Three Hermits by Tolstoy

-watch J.J. Abrams discuss imagination on TED

Among the many pieces we read was Babette's Feast by Isak Dinesen. It is the story of Babette, a French refugee who flees to a coastal village in Norway. After serving two elderly sisters for many years, Babette reveals that she is the former chef of the Cafe Anglais, a premier restaurant in Paris. We read a chapter at a time, discussed the chapter, outlined the story on the board, and one day it occurred to me- my classroom was The Cafe Anglais (translated: The English Cafe), by definition- a small, unpretentious place where language lessons are served to customers.

Here is an acrostic sentence by one of my students:

A boy

can dissect Edison's fascinating

gifts,

hypertensively increasing joyful

KNOWLEDGE,

laying many nice options,

promising q u i z z i c a l roads,

stitching the undisectional, venturous ways...

xenophobic, yet

zymotic.

by Patrick Rallings

Elegance in Stone by Collene Karcher

2010-07-03T14:18:00.000-07:00

"We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, therefore,

is not an act but a habit."

Aristotle

Stone is unforgiving. A group of us young designers once met with the memorial sculptor, Dario Rossi. We were admiring one of his angels, carved from Elberton granite, when someone from the group asked, "What do you do if a finger breaks off?" Dario smiled and, with his Italian accent, said, "Oh, that's easy! I just carve an extra finger on the other hand."

I am a former memorialist- maker of tombstones, working several years in the shop of my father and later with George Crone in Memphis, TN. Memories of the dust, sounds and smells (granite being sawed smells different than marble) that embody a stone shop go deep within me. In our shops we sandblasted the lettering through hand-cut stencils (now the stencils are machine cut). Unless you have worked with stone you can't fully appreciate the elegance of a Trajan letter engraved with a cold chisel, guided only by the hand of the artist.

Some things cannot be improved on, only carried on. Collene Karcher is carrying on the art of hand-lettering in stone and wood. I discovered her work in The Toe River Journal. Here is a sample of her work.

"Do you see someone skilled in their work? They will stand before
kings, they will not stand before obscure men."

Proverbs 22:29

Being Human

2010-06-27T10:08:00.000-07:00

This morning I read a beautiful post by the friend who inspired me to begin this blog, Terry Bernardini. I had just returned from picking blackberries and was contemplating Philippians 2 from The Message- "Think of yourselves the way Christ Jesus thought of Himself. He had equal status with God but didn't think so much of Himself that He had to cling to the advantages of that status no matter what. Not at all. When the time came, He set aside the privileges of Deity and took on the status of a slave, became human." 'Became human'. He became one of us and we are a fragile, odd lot. 'Prone to wander, Lord I feel it, Prone to leave the God I love...' wrote the hymnist Robert Robinson. We humans hurt and leave those we love, struggle with being content (it is a fine line between contentment and apathy), and, are easily offended. And yet, The King of Glory became a man.

Terry reminded me that humans have fingertips, and this morning my fingertips are sore because blackberry bushes have thorns. But they are worth the pain.

Here's a video my son, Sam, introduced me to; a group of humans who know how to use their fingertips.

Dash of Life

2010-06-16T03:35:00.000-07:00

Elementary Rules of Usage

Strunk & White, The Elements of Style

On a gravestone,

there is a significant mark that is often missed- the dash between the date of birth and the date of death; an engraved summary of all that occurred between two moments in earth time.

Today I am living in the dash.

A dash is, of course, the stuff drawings are made of.

Artists call them lines.

Psalm 19 begins, 'The heavens are telling of the glory of God; and their expanse is declaring the work of His hands. Day to day pours forth speech, and night to night reveals knowledge. There is no speech, nor are there words; their voice is not heard. Their line (sound, precision, musical string) has gone out through all the earth, and their utterances to the end of the world. In them He has placed a tent for the sun.'

The Hebrew word for line in this Psalm is kav. One Rabbi says of kav- "The precision of the universe is likened to a surveyor's tape stretched out to the ends of the earth. This means that the precision of the cosmos is evident all over the earth to any observer."

Maybe that is why John Muir said, "Tug on anything at all and you'll find it connected to everything else in the universe."

A language of line

The Letter

oh, the power in a line

to ascend and descend

arc and loop

open close

thin becoming thick

as thought begets

a river of black-

and there is Life

Silence

2010-05-31T12:52:00.001-07:00

"Be still and know that I am God."

Psalm 46:10

propaedeutic (prō′pi do̵̅o̅t′ik, -dyo̵̅o̅t′-)

Gr propaideuein, to teach beforehand pro-, before + paideuein, to instruct pais (gen. paidos), child

of, or having the nature of, elementary or introductory instruction

Over my desk hangs a crucifix, sculpted by an artist who lived with us for a time. Over the years I have reflected on the power of this work. I sit here now, and as I gaze upon the gaping mouth filled with silent anguish, I hear these words from the Psalms-

"Be still and know that I am God."

For most of my life the focus of Psalm 46:10 has been on the command to 'cease and desist', to stop and and make time to be still. A few weeks ago I began a painting based on this verse. While working through the Hebrew I stopped at the expression and know. In the Hebrew, the expression contains four characters, beginning and ending with a vav- the Hebrew letter which, to the ancients, symbolized a nail. Two nails frame a thought that should form my thoughts. Upon two nails hung the wisdom of God.

The apostle Paul penned it thus-

"For since in the wisdom of God the world through its wisdom did not come to know God, God was well-pleased through the foolishness of the message preached to save those who believe." I Cor. 1:21.

Jeremy Begbie said, "Wisdom is lived knowledge."

Life is found in knowing the One between the nails.

Sam

2010-05-20T10:14:00.000-07:00

Sam playing my Stringer

Sam's Strat signed by Leigh Nash

"Failure to hit the bulls-eye is never the fault of the target."

Gilbert Arland

Recently, one of my students suggested I mount a refrigerator door on the art room wall. "You can hang all the 'crappy' pictures on it with magnets" he said. In a world steeped in mediocrity there is, I suppose, a multitude of 'crappy' pictures. But, in an ongoing effort to promote young artists producing good work, pieces that hit the 'bulls-eye', it is with great pleasure I feature the work of my youngest son, Samuel Christian Carter.

Sam is a true warrior poet, defender of the oppressed (I have witnessed him step between small peers and large ones, ending fights with a glare). He loves music (currently being privately tutored on guitar by Luke Skaggs, son of music legend Ricky Skaggs, thank you Luke!!), writing poetry and painting. Fives times Sam's work has been named Watercolor of the Day in Teen Ink, an online magazine for teens. At Trinity, Sam's school, he is editor of InkVein, the school literary magazine. He is frequently asked by his youth leader to speak to the youth, sharing things that God is doing in his life. On several occasions he has worked on paintings in front of the church congregation and last week a lady purchased the painting produced that night. He is an amazing young man. I am blessed to call him son.

And he has only been on the planet sixteen years.

I look forward to seeing all that God has planned for him.

These are a few of the pieces produced to date.

A Place For the Heart

2010-05-10T11:50:00.000-07:00

A Drawing by Cadence Helser for me

"What we know about God and what we do for God have a way of getting broken apart in our lives. The moment the organic unity of belief and behavior is damaged in any way, we are incapable of living out the full humanity for which we were created."

Eugene Peterson

"Do you wanna play 20 questions?" Cadence asked. It was more a statement of introduction than a question. Earlier I noticed him explaining one of his drawings to Chris, an intern at A Place For the Heart. I asked him if he would draw something for me. That is when he asked, "Do you wanna play 20 questions?" Over the next few days we would play several times. And, Cadence drew a picture for me (now on my office wall).

For the past decade the staff and students of Trinity have gone to A Place For the Heart for spring camp. It is unlike any camp I have ever experienced. From the moment we walked onto the property I sensed the overwhelming expression, "You are welcome here!"

I stayed in cabin Malachi with six of my students, and guys, tho' a little smelly, you were great!! The first night, after a gourmet dinner (all the food was awesome! Thank You Linda Helser!), Jonathan David Helser led in worship.

The next few days were a blur...a shaving cream battle- Brave Heart WaterBalloon Siege- a water slide of near-Biblical proportion- late night 'smores, and anointed worship music.

But for me, the best moments were spent in the woods, alone with the Lord. The first day I found a trail marked 'Prayzebo' and headed up the hill. It was late afternoon. To my left a Cardinal sang, on my right I passed a stand of Sassafras saplings. And then, at the end of a ridgetop trail, there it was, the Prayzebo; an octagonally-shaped prayer chapel, set apart from the world and time. As I stepped inside I was overcome by the presence of the Holy Spirit. My next three mornings would be spent there- my Bible in one hand- a carafe of coffee in the other.

God is good.

Jonathan and me

Ken and me

"The Spirit of God whets our appetite by giving us a taste of what's ahead. He puts a little of heaven in our hearts so that we'll never settle for less."

an excerpt from a letter to a struggling church in Corinth,Greece,

written by a former Pharisee named Paul

The Wall

2010-05-02T08:06:00.000-07:00

Plan for Art Room Mural

"How do I know what I think
'till I see what I say?"
E.M. Forster

"...there is nothing new under the sun."
Ecclesiastes 1:9

And so it begins, a new project for the Art Room; it is, to date, the most ambitious I have been a part of. The students will paint a mural around the entire room- 2 feet in height around the upper perimeter of the entire room- a visual time-line of art history, 136 linear feet in length. Beginning with cave paintings, the mural will progress through the ages by featuring one work indicative of each era, coming full circle into the 21st Century with graffiti art. Early man painted on walls, and today, men paint on walls.
There really is nothing new under the sun.

Sam working on the drawing

Students will stand on scaffolding and work shoulder-to-shoulder. The project may take a couple of years, depending on the students (I am selecting the images-I want the students to produce the mural). The goal is to one day have a student stand in the middle of the room and experience thousands of years with their eyes.

Proposed Images- Wall #1

Progress reports will follow from time to time.

Beginning Again

2010-04-21T03:35:00.000-07:00

limen li·men (lī'mən)

The place or point of beginning; the threshold

"In order that people may be happy in their work, these three things are needed: they must be fit for it, they must not do too much of it, and they must have a sense of success in it."
John Ruskin
1819-1900

Every so often it happens- to grossly paraphrase John Ruskin, 'just often enough to keep you going' - a student gets it. The aha moment that teachers live for. It happened with Dana.

Dana finished her second print edition today. Several weeks in progress, her current set (titled Sublime) received the 15th and final color today. It is technically and aesthetically stunning. And to think, I was hesitant to introduce the class to screen printing, or, to use the proper jargon- serigraphy. The process is messy, technically challenging and time-consuming. Patience and discipline, attributes not usually seen in High School students, are mandatory. But, introduce it, I did.

For her first print. Dana asked if she could use an open cigarette pack as the subject. Again, hesitancy. Trinity is, after all, a Christian school. What message would be sent? It was a liminal moment. In my experience, students tend to treat the assignment seriously if they are interested in the subject. So, after a quick prayer, I said, "yes." After Dana pulled the second color, she asked, "Did I tell you the title?"

"No."

"Suicide."

"That's a good title."

Sometimes a title redeems an image. The finished print is beautiful.

And so, Dana began her second print- Sublime.

There are a number of things that make the final prints exceptional-
1.) Before Suicide Dana had never done a screen print.
2.) The screen was hand-blocked (NOT a photo screen).
3.) All the materials were non-traditional, e.g. the fabric was curtain material from Walmart stretched over a picture frame, the blockout was latex paint

and the squeegee was stiff plastic from a storage container lid

Twenty two finished prints

Well done!

Sublime

Serigraph on black Foamcore

13.5"x13.5"

by Dana Shapiro

Dana has selected the image for her third and final edition- an elephant in shades of grey. I have no doubt that it will be beautiful.

Home Again

2010-04-10T15:40:00.000-07:00

Somewhere over there

Luggage back here

Joshua is back
on American soil. Praise God!

After the initial hugs and smiles, we asked, "What do you want to do now?"
His response, " Taco Bell."

Welcome home, Joshua.

Samuel, Joshua, Michael

Easter

2010-04-04T08:39:00.000-07:00

Easter morning!

My daily reading of the Psalms led me to Psalm 34, an acrostic psalm. A comment from my interlinear version says, "David conquered despair by composing this alphabetical hymn, to show that our every faculty, from aleph to tav, should be dedicated to God."

I am no David, but, here is my alphabetical hymn-

Abundantly, the goodness of God surrounds me.

Breathing reminds me of this, for breath itself comes from the Lord.

Comforts of this world do not compare to the comforter of my soul.

Desires and dreams find their home in Him.

Enveloped am I by the Lover of my soul.

"Friend", He calls me!

"Go, make disciples" He tells me.

Hearing His voice heals and helps me.

'In His grip' will be the ending to my letters.

Joy comes to me in the mornings.

Kaleidoscopic is His kindness.

Love, the love of God, defies my explanations.

Mindful of my concerns, He who made me leads me.

Needless are my worries.

Other gods call to me.

Pleasing is the heart-cry aroma that ascends to the Lamb of God.

Quietly, breeze-like, the Voice of the Lord accomplishes His purpose.

'Redeemer' is a banner over my Rescuer.

'Salvation' is His name.

Truth is defined by Him.

Under the shadow of the cross live the redeemed.

'Victory In Jesus' is the Mission Theme.

Waiting and wrestling are my pastimes- the Lord seems to enjoy a good wrestling match.

X is the shape of a carried cross.

Yielded to Christ is my stance.

Zion's mountains soar with delight for the Lord God, King of the universe, Who Was, and Is, and Is To Come!

Good Friday

2010-04-02T10:04:00.000-07:00

חֶסֶד

good \ˈgu̇d\ O.E. god (with a long "o") "having the right or desirable quality," - First record of good day is from c.1200. http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/good

What's in a word? Today is Good Friday. Good. The word good is used as an adjective, a noun, an adverb, an interjection and an idiom. I use it in the name of my blog. There are 603 verses in the New American Standard translation of the Bible which include the word good (870 in the King James). Aγαθος is the greek used in Luke 18:18,19 - A ruler questioned Him, saying, "Good Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?" And Jesus said to him, "Why do you call Me good? No one is good except God alone."

The expression for Good Friday in the German is Karfreitag (“Sorrowful Friday”). And so, today is good and today is sorrowful.

I look out the kitchen window and I see children, searching for eggs someone has hidden in the grass. I think they are having a 'good' moment. Searching can be good.
For the disciples of Jesus, the day between days, the time between Good Friday and Easter morning must have been a day of searching, remembering His words. Perhaps they remembered this-
"Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains by itself alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit."

Thank you, Jesus, for Good Friday.

Lamentations

2010-03-23T18:05:00.000-07:00

HORIZONS

March/April 2010

"Every painting is a voyage into a sacred harbour."
Giotto di Bondone
1267-1337

Horizons, The Magazine For Presbyterian Women requested the use of one of my wife's paintings, I Am Not A Tourist Attraction, to be featured in the Mar/Apr issue. The focus of the issue is Human Trafficking, a crime against humanity that the United Nations Population Fund states could count as high as 4,000,000 souls.

When we lived in Memphis, Terri organized an art exhibit in a midtown gallery to raise awareness of human trafficking and to benefit the International Justice Mission. Shortly thereafter she was named Abolitionist of the Week by Not For Sale Campaign, another organization striving to end trafficking and human slavery. Some might ask, "Why use art?" Paul Gauguin said, "Art is either plagiarism or revolution." Webster defines revolution as a sudden, radical, or complete change. Art causes change. Good art can cause radical change. Images have a way of going deep. Some art has even caused revolution.

Captive

by Teresa West-Carter

I teach young people the history of art. The stories behind the paintings always intrigue me. Here is part of the story behind I Am Not A Tourist Attraction by Teresa West-Carter, my bride-
Several years ago while meditating on the book of Joel, Terri began a season of lament; she mourned the plight of the abused and the helpless. One day she envisioned a father holding a lifeless child, a picture of tragedy, surrounded by newspaper and magazine clippings of injustice and cruelty. As she collected actual clippings, one of the faces haunted her; the face of a little girl trapped in the sex slave trade stared back at her. The picture of that little girl caused a revolution in my wife's art.

Lamentations
The Death of Innocence

In the painting Lamentations, the father is supported by the hands of God. As Terri was looking at the painting, still on the easel, the Spirit of God said, "It's not finished. Paint My promises on My hands."

Lamentations
Detail

And so, a picture of a little girl led to a series of paintings- one of which is I Am Not A Tourist Attraction.

I Am Not A Tourist Attraction
available as a print from
Not For Sale Campaign
all proceeds go to Not For Sale

2010-03-08T09:55:00.000-08:00

Kindergarten Field Trip, c. 1961

(I'm in the 2nd row)

syn·er·gy (sĭn'ər-jē) syn-ergos, συνεργός

The interaction of two or more agents or forces so that their combined effect

is greater than the sum of their individual effects.

Little boys weren't made to sit still.

While in elementary school, I was convinced that my desk was devised by someone evil, intent on breaking my will. Last week I decided to 'take a day off'. So, I drove down to Andrew Jackson State Park, in Lancaster, SC., birthplace of Andrew Jackson. There I discovered a peaceful trail. I also stepped inside a one-room school replica. The effect was profound. I walked to the back of the room and sat at a desk. I pondered the differences between this room and my childhood classrooms. Then I considered three changes in education I have witnessed;

the end to segregation

the end to prayer in school

and, the evolution of the evil school desk. In this one-room school there were desks, gathered from different time periods, the oldest being a table and bench from the 1700s. I sat there and wondered about the students who called this table 'home'.

Cyanotype Print
First Patented School Desk
U.S. Patent #400,738
Anna Breadin
April 2, 1889

"A student doesn't get a better desk than her teacher."
Matthew 10:24
The Message

I teach art. While teaching at Westminster Academy I built tables for the art room- simple, sturdy, 2x4 constructed tables. They were large enough for four students, and, they could be pushed together to form one large workspace. When I began at Trinity Prep in Charlotte I decided to build the same. A bonus I had not considered was provided by one of the parents, Brian Crutchfield, - dry erase board tops, on which the students could draw with markers.

Brilliant! Thank you Brian! He also built several counter tops, providing even more surface area to move paint and ink and glue and... stuff. Here is the napkin specs (available free to the first person who asks, just email me and I will send it to you. My email address is shekhinah@juno.com) and one of the tables. Here are a few desks I found online, proving that school furniture has evolved.

And, the teacher's desk in the one-room school.

Maybe my art table will be found among the images one day.

Benediction

2010-02-14T09:37:00.000-08:00

When I was a young boy,

my father showed me how to draw two things.

First, there was the ribbon from dots:

Then, trees from a continual line:

It was my first art lesson.

Who could have known that one day I would be giving art lessons?

Unbeknownst to my father, he had shown me the crux of drawing;

the core elements that form all drawings- dots and lines.

A line, after all, is just a dot

that kept going. As I think about it,

the best lessons are built on simple principles.

My Classroom

"To know much and taste nothing- of what use is that?"

Bonaventure

We've been busy. My 1st Period is Photography- pinhole cameras from shoeboxes, coffee cans, oatmeal boxes and one yogurt container. We've mixed the chemistry for Cyanotype prints, but the sun is not cooperating. 2nd and 3rd Periods- Painting. After looking at the history of fresco painting we painted minature 'frescoes' (on sheetrock). This week we will begin a contemporary Icon on Birch panels (provided by one of my student's Dad). Periods 4 and 7- Printmaking, finishing a serigraph (silk-screen) print. 6th Period- Sculpture. We worked with vines (from the woods behind our home), making portraits. Of course, Emily asked if she could make a horse. And, of course I said yes. She posted a photo of the finished piece to her DeviantArt page and was an instant success- several thousand views in a matter of hours. She now approaches 20,000 views. Well done Emily!

My Valentine

Emily Prozinski

It snowed, again. Here are a couple of photos I brought home:

Our backyard

Winter

through my window

leafless limbs

and yet, beyond i see

evergreens

do trees sleep?

they sway

to songs i cannot hear

'the wind blows where it wishes'

He says

the wind is blowing