Wounds of Light

Wounds of Light
2015

Water soluble oil and charcoal on corrugated paper

So Moses said, “I must turn aside now, and see this marvelous sight, why the bush is not burned up.” Exodus 3:3 NASB

God knew what he was doing from the very beginning. He decided from the outset to shape the lives of those who love him along the same lines as the life of his Son. The Son stands first in the line of humanity he restored. We see the original and intended shape of our lives there in him. Romans 8:29 The Message

Light defines shape and provides color, but the light of a fire is ever shifting, providing ‘active’ color and definition to the surrounding environment. Firelight give memories to our eyes, like a visual conversation, leaving bits and pieces to ponder. William Blake said, “Colours are the wounds of light.”

Moses experienced a conversation with God through light, sound, and, lest we forget, temperature... fire commands the space between the observer and the consumed.

Michael Card said this,
     "You know, the rabbis asked the question as to why the God of the universe should speak through a lowly bush. They said it takes two minutes to determine if the bush is being consumed or not. They concluded that God was looking for a man who could listen for two minutes!"

John O’Donohue said, “To be holy is to be home, to be able to rest in the house of belonging that we call the soul.” Perhaps there, in the holy shadow of God's fire, God saw a man who could listen and Moses saw the intended shape of his life and felt home.

Wounds of Light incorporates water soluble oil paint and charcoal- water, oil, and charred wood- basic materials artists have used for millennia.

The Creative Life Conference

"The best way to love each other

is to listen to each other."

Michael Card

     The Creative Life Conference at Glen Eyrie last week was an amazing time of fellowship, music, art and worship. Hearing Michael Card and Phil Keaggy play together in an intimate setting cannot be explained- it is a moment that must be experienced to understand. For me, as good as the music was, the highlight of the conference was watching new friends in the visual art workshops produce something that surprised even themselves- their voice expressed through art. Here is a sampling of their work:

To all who attended- Blessings!

Joy In The Journey

"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:

Friends

Tom and me, Big Hill Pond

"The more I think it over, the more I feel that there is nothing more truly artistic than to love people."

Vincent van Gogh

I've been walking in my room without walls, where the floor is earth and the ceiling is sky. Maxfield Parrish could paint skies but nobody rivals God's work. Last night I experienced a sunset over a used-car lot that would knock your eyes out. It was a gift. Like friends. And yet, friendship is a unique gift- a reciprocal gift, based on respect, trust and admiration. Often, friendships are based on something lacking in the one and possessed by the other, a place for want and plenty to meet. And then there is the element of maintenance. I have lost friends through neglect, by simply not paying attention. So for me, getting older means paying better attention.

Michael Card reminded a group of us teachers that there are levels of friends. Jesus had the 70, the 12 and the 3- Peter, James and John. Each level has its own dynamic and intimacy. One of my closest friends these days (and I hope 'these days' follow me to the graveyard) is Tom Sullivan, fellow educator and lover of the room without walls. I met Tom several years ago at a college in Memphis,TN. Tom was a Dean, I was an adjunct. I liked his laugh, and that he showed me where the coffee was hidden in the lounge. As time passed my family and I moved to the town of Bolivar, 65 miles away. Tom, and his beautiful wife Beverly, took me into their home the two nights a week I taught night classes. Words shared in the Sullivan den still come to mind. Now, Tom and I are separated geographically by 635.30 miles, according to Mapquest. Friendship is undaunted by geography.

Age of Wonder

We live in an age of Wonder. With a small device known as the iPod, I can listen to a lecture by Calvin Seerveld or music by Michael Card, while walking around a lake.
But, as fascinating as that may seem, nothing beats a good conversation. This weekend I had a good conversation with my son. We camped, we fished (well, we cast rubber worms into the lake), we ate...alot. Two teenage guys can put some food away. I let the boys plan the menu:
Breakfast
Eggs, Toast, Bacon (thick), Doughnuts, Orange Juice, Coffee
Lunch
Hot Dogs, Chips, Trail Mix, Salsa, Mountain Dew
Dinner
Steak (Marinated 24 Hours), Stuffed Baked Potatoes, Salad, Crusty Bread
and, of course, snack stuff.

After many words, and some laughter, I realised that moments like we were enjoying don't happen often enough. I realised my youngest son is not a little boy any longer. I realised the generational gap between us doesn't have to come between us. And, as I listened to my son share his thoughts, I remembered being a teenager.
Relationships are fragile. I have seen a few broken, some of which are credited to my account. Regret is a terrible companion. As the days speed by I am trying to work on the relationships I have left. In order to do that, I need to learn how to be a better listener.

Made to Make

There is a unique relationship that exists between the artist and the material, between the creator and the created; the more resistant the material, the more difficult the maker’s task. Works we call ‘Masterpieces’ are merely reflections of the artist’s skill, discipline and vision (which is, incidentally, my wife’s definition of art). The makers of these pieces have ‘taken the materials captive’, bringing them into a place of obedience.
A new friend of mine is a five-year-old boy named Rocco, a lover of life whose wonder has not (yet) been robbed. A few days before Rocco’s 5th birthday, in a fit of passion and excitement, he exclaimed to his mother, “Mom, did you know that God made a man out of dirt!!!” Let that sink in a moment. The same fingers that would later write the law in stone formed a man from earth, the crowning achievement of divine creativity, a creation with the capacity to create. From that first man, made out of dirt, to the present man, this truth is evident- We were made to make. And, as Andy Crouch states in his latest work, Culture Making, “Culture is what we make of the world.”
John Holt, educator and author, made this observation:
“Very young children seem to have what could be called an Instinct of Workmanship. We tend not to see it, because they are unskillful and their materials crude. But watch the loving care with which a little child smoothes off a sand cake and shapes a mud pie. They want to make it as well as they can, not to please someone else, but to satisfy themselves.” (How Children Learn, August 2, 1961 entry).
Thousands of years have passed since the first ‘dirt man’ and, for reasons unbeknownst to many, the Creator God still desires to be in relationship with His creation. In the Hebrew Scriptures there is a word some scholars believe to be one of the most important words in the Bible- Chesed. It is, as Michael Card told me, a word that almost defies literal translation. Lexical Aids to the Old Testament says this:
“The term is closely related to the forgiveness of sins. Chesed does not necessarily involve a covenant, nor does it necessarily mean fidelity to a covenant. It is more the attitude of love which contains mercy.”
Whether we like it, or even believe it, we are the workmanship of a loving Creator who continues to shape and fashion us in spite of our resistance. The only explanation to this mystery I can find is Chesed.