Category: Art Journey

On the Acknowledgements page of my dissertation, I wrote these words:

Ferrol Sams’ character, Porter Osborne, Jr., was “raised right” — a condition which he frequently invoked when he was about to do something contrary to his Southern Baptist upbringing while at the same time wishing to absolve his forbears of guilt by association. I, too, have been “raised right,” though by other families and traditions. If those who have gone before me wish to be absolved of the thoughts claimed here, so be it. They did their best.

Boardman, Will You “Do” Our Wedding?

Just between us, there are some days when I wish I were not a writer, deep in my soul. This day is, in some notably horrific ways, one of them. But then I remember that I get to say something which might be helpful.

It’s a lot like preaching.

But first a story…

I spent Tuesday pondering a shift in options for making my art available for adoption online. There were the obvious tech questions involved. And financial questions. And friendship questions. And even a few political questions. Kind of like life.

All that while watching the returns from Georgia’s Senate run-off elections.

Frankly, it was feeling like a sleepless night looking for a place to happen.

Then I had an idea. (Note: This is where some of the folks who raised me right may get a little anxious.)

A couple of minutes worth of hunting in the studio produced my set of Mother Mary Oracle Cards, by Alana Fairchild.

I learned of these cards from the amazing artist and author, Susan Ariel Rainbow Kennedy, aka SARK. And then, from the cards, I learned of the work of Shiloh Sophia McCloud, another amazing artist and author, who illustrated the work.

I could spend ages debating the theological traditions that crash into each other, at least in common perception, in this story but, instead, I’ll just tell you what happened last night.

I shuffled the cards, as I was taught, and then I passed them from hand to hand until I selected one. Magic? Energy? Inspiration?

I don’t know.

Last night, it was card number 24. Our Lady of Great Power

Here’s a bit of what I read:

It takes a truly great leader to be a great warrior for love on this planet. This leader does not give us false hope, or imaginings that all the problems that need solving will just magically ‘go away’ if we close our eyes and hope hard enough. Instead this leader inspires us with genuine encouragement and empowerment. This leader is honest about our healing light really being needed on this planet… Yet we also need that leader to inspire us with genuine hope and self-esteem, which helps us feel empowered to be able to make a difference. This will prevent us from collapsing into despair, believing that nothing can change – whether in our own life, or in the world around us.

Yes, I have taken these words out of context. And yet, wisdom comes where it will and the best we can do is to be willing to listen.

Or, to return a bit closer to my roots… from the Gospel according to Matthew:

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God.

… or, where Neuro-linguistic Programming meets Qigong. (And just about everything else!)

If you’ve been hanging around a while, you may know that, once upon a time, a long time ago, I was a surgical nurse. I’ll always remember the first major brain surgery I scrubbed in on.

The surgeon, who was new in those parts, handed me a gizmo that looked like a metal tongue depressor wrapped in clear plastic. Then he said, “hold that right there and don’t touch the yellow thing or he’ll be blind in one eye!”

(Nothing like a little pressure while learning!)

I suppose that was the beginning of my fascination with how our brains work, especially when they don’t look they could do much of anything! It’s been quite a journey. For today, though, I’ll simply tell you that our patient did well and recovered fully.

And now we’ll go on to some pondering that’s more about perception and thought than it is directly about anatomy.

Here’s the best way I’ve learned to explain it:

Where the attention goes, the energy flows.

This is, I believe, the problem with with New Year’s Resolutions, at least as many of us frame them. Quit this. Lose that. Don’t do something else. All negative.

Now, I know that some of you will have learned this trick before and you can just let this be a celebration of how well you’re doing. But, just in case you haven’t, here’s how it works.

Let’s say that someone you know resolves to quit watching TV. (There is no judgement in this example!)

Because our brains don’t do negatives, the attention of quitting TV becomes energy flowing toward – you guessed it! – TV. And the outcome is pretty predictable.

If, instead, that same someone resolved to paint every day, or play the piano, or make more soup, the energy would go toward those desired things and they’d be a lot more likely to happen.

Here’s another way to look at this. With our example of quitting TV, the minute we watch TV, we’ve failed. If, instead, our attention was on painting or playing the piano or making soup, every time we followed through and did one of those things, we’d succeed!

Now I’ve admitted, before, to being a bit of a language junky. Framing things positively makes them a whole lot more likely to happen. And who do you know that doesn’t enjoy success?

So, I am hereby authorizing you to edit any resolutions you may have made into positive aspirations. And, just in case part of you already knew that resolutions weren’t your best thing so you didn’t make any, I’ll encourage you, gently, to let yourself claim your path for 2021 and set out on the journey.

ps… for the last time in this space… at least for the next little while, I’ll ask you, if you live in Georgia, to please, please vote. That’s how we move toward the positive!

Just before I left for Columbia seminary, we got a new pastor at 1st Pres in Lakeland, Florida. Things changed after Tom arrived. One of my favorite changes involved establishing a living nativity scene in front of the church. We began that very first year.

The church sits on a lake and people circle around every year to look at the Christmas lights. It’s like a contest to see who can burn the most bulbs or come up with the craziest display of Santa on water skis. We set up a stable, sewed up some costumes and began recruiting Mary’s and Joseph’s for Witness on the Lake.

Animals were our first problem. That area is not exactly overrun with farm animals. A large animal vet came to our rescue, delivering a donkey, a goat, and two sheep to the church.

Housing the animals became our next problem. A small, fenced enclosure behind the parking lot worked well, after we moved the canoe trailer. The neighbors weren’t so sure what they thought. We lived in dread fear of a call from the zoning commission informing us that our four-footed actors had to go. Fortunately, that call never came.

Unfortunately, the donkey had such a bad attitude that we had to trade him in for a shetland pony. A very old shetland pony with cataracts so bad that he spent a great deal of effort trying to turn away from the headlights coming around the lake. This caused Tom to wonder why we kept getting the business end of the horse!

We’d been out there for 3 or 4 nights and things were going going fairly well when the big night finally arrived. Christmas Eve was wet and cold. Several of our characters called in sick and we scrambled to find folks to be Magi and shepherds in the final hours before the service. The young adults’ group turned out in full force and we were back in business.

The pony bit Tom. The goat looked depressed or sick or both. The sheep, who’d played their parts well all week, simply stood blinking in the dripping rain. We huddled in the makeshift stable, shivering in our costumes and munching chocolate chip cookies some kind soul had made. I wasn’t sure we were being much of a witness!

Amazingly, people still came! Cars drove round and round. Even the newspapers showed up. Somewhere in the middle of all the bustle, a young mother walked up with her daughter who was about 4 years old.

The little girl stood, tattered and wet, one finger in her mouth, and looked. She looked and looked and looked. Finally she pointed at a sheep and we assured her that it was safe to pet the soggy animal. Suddenly, scattering hay everywhere and scaring the sheep half to death, she darted into the little stable. Gazing down at our baby-doll Jesus lying in an orange crate she asked, Who are you supposed to be?

Several of us answered at once. Mary – Joseph – a shepherd… Our little friend looked even more puzzled. Then a young man, who sold cement for a living, decided to start at the beginning and we began to tell the Christmas story. Slowly her mother joined us, listening as intently as the little girl who was now holding the baby-doll Jesus. Finally they wandered off into the rain – the little girl crunching another cookie and her mother promising to think about our invitation to return for church that evening.

As we settled back into our roles – still huddled in the stable – another person approached us. A lovely woman, dressed for a party. Her high heels sank into the wet ground and she wrapped her expensive raincoat more tightly about her. She held a small camera in one hand but she, like the little girl, stood for long moments – just watching. Finally she looked directly at us and said, I have just one question. Why do you do this ridiculous thing?

We stammered a bit… Well, it’s Christmas and the children like it and… but she was already walking away, her unused camera swinging at her side.

Her question has haunted me ever since.

I told this story for the first time in 1990, in the pulpit of a tiny church I had come to serve. And I was compelled to tell it again, today.

I’ve learned a lot since that night in the rain when a woman I did not know asked, Why?

In some ways my answer has gotten more complex. I’m more aware of the ways stories like this have been used to belittle or frighten those of different traditions.

I’m more aware of those who don’t feel included.

I’m more aware of the ways people who claim the story but not the love behind it have used it to grab power in our world with no concern for any but themselves.

And yet, I am compelled to do this ridiculous thing again because I still believe it is about hope. Hope in the promises of the Creator.

I think many of us tell this story because we remember those promises – promises of belonging and posterity and relationship. And maybe, just maybe, our remembering has a bit to do with reminding the maker of those promises that we haven’t forgotten! That the truth of this story is somehow more true, even, than what we see with our own eyes in these days.

If the woman in the raincoat was here today, that is what I would tell her. We do it because, somehow, the story of Creator and Creation is more true than Fox News.

Maybe you know that woman in the raincoat and you can tell her for me!

And maybe you’ll tell me some of your sacred stories, too. So be it. Amen.

ps… to you and yours from me and mine… love and peace and hope in this moment and always.

It’s been quite the year around here, as I imagine it has been for you, as well. And I’ll admit to being tempted to focus on the things that are missing in our world but I’m consciously resisting.

So! There’s a new roof on the house we’re blessed to have. And, with a bit of luck and some earplugs, there should soon be several energy efficient updates to the things the experts call systems. By which I mean big things like the HVAC machinery. And possibly cleaned ducts, but that one is still in the research phase.

I led my first webinar (I know… but please be patient. The world needs more art and people who believe in the longings of their hearts!)

Nothing like a an adventurous tech-y escapade (Read that, making a video to – gulp – publish!) to make the next things on the progress list more obvious. In my case, a plan for video editing lessons, and a cell phone with more camera. (Thank you, Santa!)

Someone asked me, the other day, why I was torturing myself with extroverting and videos and such.

It’s a good question. And the answer takes us to another question… one that will undoubtedly play a big role in the Miracles workshop.

What do you want to set free in the world in 2021 and beyond?

Which, ironically, brings to mind the Legendary Husband’s vast collection of Dragon Con and Signals Catalog t-shirts!

Yes. Beyond this place there be dragons.

And, yes. We are crunchy and taste good with ketchup.

All of which means that we need an answer to this question, too.

What do you need…?

(Well, there’s a little more, but that’s why we’re having a workshop!)

So, wherever you are – as long as there’s a Zoom connection! – thank your fears for their concern and send them on vacation. Click the brightly colored link above (or here) and go get some more information. Give this adventure a chance. You do have choices! Come, set sail in the direction of your dreams.

I have two granddaughters growing up in this world and the more of us there are facing the dragons, the better it’s going to be for all of us.

Think of it as you giving a gift to the world! And holiday blessings to you and yours.

ps… Many thanks to Sam Bennett and her amazing team for helping with the tools for facing dragons!

pps… The workshop starts December 27th. NOW is the time!

’tis the season for Good Trouble! In Georgia, for sure, and in the world.

Good Trouble is a phrase from the late Congressman John Lewis who passed on this fall. My Facebook feed is filled with faces of strangers become partners with their “I’m a Georgia Voter” stickers and the assurance that they’ve been up to good trouble. (Me, too!)

The glimpse of my Artifact painting, above, was painted on the night we lost John Lewis. As a painter, I was supposed to be “coding” my work with symbols and prayers that matter to my understanding of our time. (At least I think that’s what I was supposed to be doing. I know it’s what happened!)

My painting was also coded with my tears. And prayer dots, galore.

In my tradition, today is the fourth Sunday in the season of Advent. The candle lit for this day is commonly known as the candle for Peace. I have lots of paintings with peace symbols, but this one insisted on showing up, instead, because it seems to me that we’re highly unlikely to make Peace without Hope.

So, longing for Peace and Hope, I rounded up some friends today and we made a bit of good trouble. Women with paper and markers and dreams, busting out of stuck and heading for more. For glorious, as a matter of fact!

If that sounds good to you, you can join in, too. The workshop, Make Your Own Miracles… 3 Creative Tools to Feel Better Now starts next Sunday (12/27) at 1pm ET. There’s more information Here! And, when the tech elves have learned a new thing or two, there will be a recording from today’s preview. I’ll let you know, for sure.

One friend asked me why I’m doing this in the middle of all the hard stuff that’s going on in the world.

You guessed it… because, while the hard stuff is very real, it’s not the only stuff and I’m totally convinced that it helps the world when we remember that there is hope and take part in it.

Also, I suppose, because I’m a fan of good trouble. If you are, too, I think you’d add a lot to the journey!

For now, my deep thanks to you for being here and reading along. This whole blog thing started with the notion that GRANDMOTHERS ARE IN CHARGE OF HOPE. I’m still all in!

And if, by chance, you live in Georgia and haven’t voted yet, John Lewis and I are counting on you!

ps… Just between us, the actual video making, etc. is easier than the editing and sharing and all that comes after it. Just in case you have questions about the workshop that you can’t find answers for, just email me at suesvoice@gmail.com I’m way better with answers than with which button to push!