Once upon a time…

… a long time ago, there was a monk named Brother Lawrence. You may have heard of him.

Here’s what I learned about him in seminary:

Brother Lawrence believed that even something like washing dishes, which was his task in the monastery, was prayer if it was intended toward the Divine.

There’s more to know about Brother Lawrence and you can read all about it in his book, The Practice of the Presence of God.

Today, he’s been on my mind for two reasons.

The first is water. Washing dishes takes water and we’ve been pretty short of that in Atlanta lately. And long on heat.

Not nearly as short on water as the rain forests burning in the Amazon.

All of which suggests, I suppose, that water can, indeed, be holy.

The other reason Brother Lawrence appeared in my memory is pictured above.

Paint brushes. Dirty ones, to be exact. Lots and lots of them.

There’s been a whole lot of painting going on around here this week. In fact, my paint buddies and I have gotten nearly every brush dirty. We’ve gotten the most popular ones dirty several times!

And so, I have been washing brushes.

I’ve tried to do it with consciousness and intention, and the Castile soap that works without eating my hands.

Tried is, perhaps, the operative word in that sentence.

Honestly, my mind keeps wandering to the bits and pieces from Container Store we’ll need for rearranging some closets at our house. (There’s a sale!) I’m trying for a greater feeling of spaciousness, some more welcoming guest space, and a better place to photograph my art, all without any actual increase in square feet.

The work starts on Friday. Bill is not disappointed that he will be at Dragon Con that day!

My job is making the plan and being sure that all the parts are present and accounted for.

My friend Greg is in charge of ladders and drills.

The chat people on Container Store’s website are my new geniuses-on-demand. (Though why they stopped making all the old lengths of shelves and hanging rods is a total mystery to me!)

Fortunately, we have quite the stash in the basement which will be a huge help in terms of investment.

IMG_5815I did get distracted for a bit, watching the miracle of rain falling on my garden, where the grapes are getting ripe.

For now, one more batch of brushes to wash, with actual gratitude for the powerful process that gets them dirty in the first place.

And some soup to heat, which will inevitably create dishes to wash, as well.

You know, I’m glad Brother Lawrence appeared from the depths of my inner library today. He’s a great reminder that consciousness and intention change lots of things!

 

Huge gratitude to those who purchased art during my promotion for Grandmothers Against Gun Violence. With your help, I’ll be sending the donation today! (I suspect Brother Lawrence would be grateful, too!)

 

 

Creating Comes with Soup and Symbols

The house smells like heaven on a busy day!

Ginger tea. A hint of freshly dried towels. A spritz of Santa Maria Herb Water from Santa Maria Novella in Firenze, to bless a canvas.

And, like a bass note under it all, gallons of chicken bone broth bubbling on the stove, gently suggesting Vidalia onions and garlic and herbs from the garden.

All, by the way, embodied right brain sorts of things. (If you’re new to the bone broth magic, click here for a starter recipe. Just substitute roasted chicken bones for the turkey!)

The studio feels a bit like I imagine the Garden of Eden must have looked on the seventh day. Except for the resting part, for creation is happening there, too, despite the fact that the world feels a bit more like it’s time to build an ark.

In between tending the soup cauldron and adding carefully selective glaze coats, I am pondering symbols, for several of my works-in-progress are calling for them.

Often guided imagery is involved. Many of you have been there with me before. Here’s a short sample version:

You’re walking through your favorite empowering place… focusing on your vision… your dream… suddenly a guide or angel or spirit animal appears and offers you an image… what is it and how do you feel having it? 

Frankly, I struggle with these sorts of exercises! I am not primarily a visual processor. I don’t often see images in my head. At least not consciously. Instead my experience is something closer to perception. I can tell you what the image or symbol would look like if I could see it.

And, on a good day, I can paint something pretty close to that which I cannot see.

Nonetheless, symbols fascinate me. We tend to claim the ones that resonate with us, whether out of familiarity or curiosity. They come from our history, our families, our spiritual traditions, even – at least in my case – our love of dogs. Or cats or horses or hawks or bees or roses or dragonflies or red thread.

And symbols are a way to get more conscious about our beliefs. Both our chosen beliefs and those we might prefer to un-choose at this point in our journeys.

For me, this cocoon, if you will, of chicken soup and fresh towels and hatching symbols has had me musing on the power of Creation. And frankly, the language for such musing is getting more complicated for me as I learn to appreciate traditions other than my own.

And then a new thought appeared in my soul, literally while I was adjusting the temp under the soup.

Paul Tillich.

It’s been about 30 years since I spent much time hanging with Tillich, who was, according to Wikipedia, “a German-American Christian existentialist philosopher and Lutheran Protestant theologian (1886-1965). 

Tillich taught widely, including at Union Theological Seminary in New York and at Columbia University. One of his students grew up to become a hugely important teacher in my own journey, Dr. C. Benton Kline.

Sadly, we don’t have time for all the Ben stories, though you can ask me sometime about my favorite Ben moment which happened when Bill and I got married.

It was from Ben that I learned of Tillich’s references to God as the Ground of all Being. The ground upon which all beings exist.

I’m not sure I was ready for that framework 30 years ago. Maybe it just didn’t squeeze through my filters.

It certainly seems to be pitching a tent inside me these days! It’s actively shaping my symbols. And it is, somehow, urging me toward action in the world which is deeply, but not merely, symbolic.

This week I joined a grassroots organization of people like you and me called Grandmothers Against Gun Violence.

And, through August 25th, I will donate 15% of my proceeds from all art sales on my Fine Art Marketplace page to Grandmothers Against Gun Violence.

Just go to the page and click on an image to read a bit about its story and find the options for prints.  Or leave a comment if you have questions. E-mail works, too.

Now is a great time to visit. Three new images went up today! There are museum quality wrapped canvases and archival watercolor giclées in several sizes, which come with certificates of authenticity, as well as images on poster paper. In some cases, originals are available. And Barry and his team do a great job with shipping.

There’s a legendary old quote that says, “Art will save the world.” I hope so! In the meantime, I’m totally convinced that art created and selected intentionally to set symbols of healing free in the world will, indeed, get us closer and closer to the loving and just creation intended by the Ground of all Being.

Art really doesn’t have to match the couch. Consider the glimpse, above, of my Taliswoman/Artist painting who either matches everything or nothing!

Come check it out. Find a symbol that calls to you. And do some good in the world.

It doesn’t get much better than that!