Christmas Eve--Faith is a Verb

 En El Principio era El Verbo, y El Verbo era con Dios, y El Verbo era Dios. 

                                                    --San Juan 1:1

Faith is a verb. As is God, as is eternity.

Short story: When I taught writing at UCO, I'd use John 1:1 to emphasize the critical importance of verbs.

At a state university, I could usually count on a few students to quote John 1:1, in English. Then I'd explain, assuring the class that they didn't have to believe, but I wanted them to understand the theology behind it, that the "Word" was the agent of Creation ("Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life...."),  the pre-existent Christ.

Then I'd ask for the Spanish word of "word," and a few could answer "palabra." Then I'd put the  Spanish version up on the board, which is closer to the original Latin, and thus Greek: "En El Principio, era El Verbo...!"

Lesson: if you want to  "create" writing, sentences, pay attention to the verbs!

As I painted today's Christmas Eve card, I thought of people around the world gathering in churches, and homes, especially the poor, the paisanos and pueblo people of northern New Mexico. They  gather, walking through snow, to their adobe churches, expressing faith in their actions, seeking peace and sustenance in their humble lives.  Their faith is not something fancy or elaborate or have, but who they are and do.

Those were my thoughts last night as I was considering how to write this today. But then...

My mornings start with a reading from the journals of Thomas Merton. Today's selection, from Dec. 15, 1962,  had to be more than coincidence.

Consider these excerpts (italics are his):

• " The interior surrender of faith... (is)...an act of obedience, ie., self-commitment... (submitting) to God's truth in its power to give life, and to command one to live.
• "...Faith is not simply an act of choice, and option for a certain solution to the problem of existence, etc....To believe is to consent  to a creative command that raises us from the dead."

Tonight many of the faithful (those full of faith, a verb) gather to celebrate  the Verb who became flesh, "Y el Verbo se hizo carne...." San Juan 1:14 

No wonder faith  is a verb!

(P.S. I know, two sermons in one post today. Also consider that faith is different than belief. )

  

. 

Journeys to Creation

"Journeys," 12 x 12 acrylic, gallery-wrapped canvas. Soon at In Your Eye Studio and Gallery

My current definition of "God" is "infinity." Eternal present spirit tense. "I am that I am,"--Genesis.

All art has stories, has histories, encounters with spirit, and so it is with this week's painting.

It began this when when a friend and fellow artist  Jim Resnicek in In Your Eye Gallery bought my 5 x 5 acrylic of a spiritual ladder, "Journeys." Here's the original blog post on it, from a year ago--"From Dust to Dust."

While we were talking, about art and ideas, I found this painting in my mind.

It comes from inspiration by my second daily readings, of

Chickasaw elder, Okie  and Episcopal priest Steve Charleston, whose daily meditations a read every day. You should follow him on Facebook for this calming words and insights into the infinity of "Spirit." His book, Ladder to the Light, drawing on New Mexico pueblo religions and cultures, of ladders from inside kivas, speaks to our struggle in this un-spiritual world. 

Two more readings begin my days. They also influenced a part of this painting. First there is the daily calendar of comments  and insights by the Catholic Trappist monk and mystic, Thomas Merton. Though he wrote and died in the 1960s, his imagery and insights seem to fit todays turmoils, evidence again of eternal spirit and present tense. See A Year With Thomas Merton.

The third daily reading is always Fr. Richard Rohr, a Franciscan priest who is in charge of the Center for Action and Contemplation in Albuquerque. His daily email  seems to always fit within the scope of these other two.

So this painting calls to me of our journeys to infinity, step by step, rung by rung up a ladder, across the spectrum of light and life.

Solitude, and Thomas Merton

"Solitude," 8 x 10ish watercolor, 140 lb. d'Arches cold press paper

How do you ease your mind before you go to sleep, eliminating all the violent noise of the day?

I pick up The Pocket Thomas Merton, open it anywhere, and read a few lines. Last night, I came to his thoughts on Solitude.

One quote: ..."turn aside from controversy and put away heavy loads of judgment and censorship and criticism of the who burden of opinions that I have no obligation to cary..."

Another about living in the city from the 1960s (We all now live in a city of media) "...where the radio makes you deaf with spurious news and where the food destroys your life and the sentiments of those around you poison your heart with boredom..." 

Or: "The world is the unquiet city of those who live for themselves and are therefore divided against one another in a struggle that cannot end;, for it will go on eternally in hell."

Then you breathe in deeply, think about the solitude of the Great Plains, or the mountains, or your own thoughts. 

Out of such stew comes sleep, and today, what was going to be an abstract painting about the Great Plains at end of day, turned out this way, purple, and colors, and the joy of solitude.

Shadows of a year, 10 days 'til Christmas

"Shadows from the light of a star," 5 x 10 watercolor

Where there is light, there will be shadows.
Or, no shadows, no darkness, no light.
Contrasts, opposites, create life. Sorry-happiness, tragedy-triumph. Failure-success. Trials-peace. The list goes on.
Read Thomas Merton, Richard Rohr, King David, and others...coming out of depths of despair, of illness, of injustice, of judgment, of racism, of  hatred, of condemnation, of hypocrisy, of selfishness, of fear and death, comes maturity, wisdom, survival, and eventual peace, for those who survive.
Or, as Jill Castilla, President and CEO of Citizens Bank told my students in the Twitter for Media Class, in the Department of Mass Communication at the University of Central Oklahoma students this fall, “You go through trials, and they’re preparing you for something greater.”
As the stars align in this month's star journey toward Christmas, the traditional, but not factual symbol of the birth of Jesus, those lessons come into focus. Out of poverty, into trial, into fear and death, came a joy and peace the world celebrates, if it certainly not always remembers or practices.
"And Jesus Wept." No wonder. They forget the star.
So, today's watercolor.

Moon tide voyage

"Full Moon tide," #watercolor card,  5 x 7

The moon pulls tides more than on the oceans, perhaps as powerful, but in different ways. Living organisms, including humans, react to its power, its presence, scientifically and emotionally.
I do, especially the full moon, from deep memories, some not even conscious. The moon always beckons, beckons to travel physically and especially mentally. If you type in "moon" on this blog search post, you'll see the multitude of writings, and some art, through the almost 10 years the blog has existed.
Most art, and writing, and music about the moon reflect (that's the appropriate word)  its power and influence romantically, wistfully, and even scientifically, there is more metaphor and symbol to consider.
In this season of materialism and social unrest, the words of the great Catholic seer and monk Thomas Merton, written in the 1960s as mankind reached for the moon, also uncannily fit our times.
   "What can we gain by sailing if we are not able to cross the abyss that separates us from ourselves? This is the most important of all voyages of discovery, and without it all the rest are not only useless but disastrous."
   --Thomas Merton, "The Wisdom of the Desert: Sayings from the Desert Fathers of the Fourth Century"

"Time is gone before you are aware"--another day

"Winter Dawn," today's 5 x 7 #watercolor card

November dawn. Cold yielding to light. 
Thanksgiving for another "sunrise," for warmth, for beauty. For another gift of another day of light and life, from the long nights of November, of  a world of misery in the forms of war, greed, and hatred.
Time slips away...a day to savor each moment.

    "It was the end of November. All the days were short and dark. ...
   "Day unto day uttereth speech. The clouds change. The seasons pass over our woods and fields in their slow and regular procession, and time is gone before you are aware of it."
--Thomas Merton, The Seven Storey Mountain

Out of hibernation, and God in the back yard

Two months without a new posting, first time in nine years, since the blog was born.
Dead or hibernating?

"building, like the clouds soaring in humid skies"

Hibernating I hope, like the bear I sometimes am.
"You need to write," chastises my brother Jerry.
Been busy, and writing takes a lot of time, I replied.
My wife Susan chimed in, "Time to write."
The reasons, or excuses,  I've not written? Occupied with watercolor business at In Your Eye Studio & Gallery in Paseo, and painting, and adjusting mentally and socially to full retirement.
In fact, I'm writing now while I wait for a first wash on a painting to dry.
But the thoughts and subjects for writing have been there, building, like the clouds soaring into humid skies this June, that I'm trying to paint. 
Those of you who follow this blog know that it has changed over the years, toward less writing to more artwork. That's all right because I have changed too.
But, OK, it is time to write more, reflecting those changes. Too many stories to tell, thoughts to share. What I hope to do is blog about two or three times a week, on a schedule, because I'm terrible at scheduling and an expert at procrastinating.
**
I love sitting on the back porch in the cool or the morning with coffee, just listening to the birds. No TV or phone noise, no humming of lawnmowers yet.
I barely move so the birds will visit the feeder--Cardinals, Jays, Wrens, Titmice, Chickadees, Downy woodpeckers.  Above the tree branches, a Mississippi Kite soars. An occasional red tail hawk wafts through the branches
The Psalm came to mind this past week:

 "Be still and know that I am God."

My concept of God has changed with me. No longer the Old Testament Yahweh, or even the church-taught versions of an judgmental god threatening damnation, while singing about love,  and strict obedience to some sectarian set of rules.
Readings from Catholic seers, Thomas Merton and Richard Rohr, and in Native American beliefs have awakened me in ways, though the wisdom and ingrained beliefs of the ages in the Old and New Testaments still affect my thinking.
If you believe in an omni-present God, as taught by our churches, then God is everywhere, in all things, is all things--all life, all creation. Does not that make everything holy? If you believe in eternal life in this god, is that not also for all creation, since god is in all creation?

Where you can hear eternity

So my idea of god, has had to change; it's now "Eternity."
Sitting on the back porch, listening to the birds sing, I realized, by sitting still, I'm listening to god through the birds. Eternity is in the backyard.
**
This blog has not been about religion or politics, and it won't be. 
Next post will be about the best book I've read in years, "The Best Cook in the World," by Rick Bragg.
Now, since writing takes so much time, it's back to painting.

Turquoise Dawn Happiness

"Turquoise Dawn," 9 by 12 watercolor, 140# d'Arches cold pressed paper

"Paint Happy Things," is January's  daily challenge from Doodlewash Watercolor Painting and  Sketching monthly challenge, which I took part in back in July. 
Although I didn't  didn't follow the challenge this past December, July was the inspiration to painting every day, and now, it seems it's time to try it again. 
While I may not follow all their prompts,  but..., I asked--What makes me happy? 
The colors of turquoise, the sound of a waterfall in a warm forest morning maybe with a New Mexico cabin hidden in the distance. 
So here 'tis, Jan. 1, 2018--Happy New Year--"Turquoise Dawn," 9 by 12, 140 lb. d'Arches cold pressed paper. #Worldwatercolorgroup 
And my personal (painting, and living?) goal is to be more bold, experimental, and abstract --taking risks.
This is a time, a need,  for bold happiness, for taking risks, for experimental living in the now. 
"Happiness is not a matter of intensity, but of balance, order, rhythm and harmony."--Thomas Morton 
 

December journey

"Journey of Souls,"  4 by 4 acrylic on canvas

December ends, again, the end of a journey, or a beginning, like every second, minute, hour, day, month, year. Mortality, immortality.
The earth is not the center of the universe, and neither are we. Atoms in constant flux in the cosmos, where nothing is permanent, in spite of our feeble efforts to make them seem so. Would we not be better off, if we took each step of our journeys like that?

Thomas Merton:

• "Contemplation is the loving sense of this life, this presence and this eternity."
•  "To consider persons and events and situations only in the light of their effect upon myself is to live on the doorstep of hell."
• "Love is the door to eternity."

Today's little 4 by 4 acrylic on canvas was done for a Paseo Arts District silent auction earlier this month.

(Day 31 of December paintings)

December Solitude--Cabin Fever

"Cabin Fever," 5 by 7 watercolor card

"Cabin Fever" can set in on days like this, cold and bitter, when you're forced to be alone with your self, even if other people are around. "Cooped Up" is another such term.
The hassle and hurry and crowds of the holidays finally fade in late December. Reactions include solitude, being alone, loneliness, but they are no synonyms, no matter how many people are around. 
You want to escape four walls closing in, but that can also be metaphorical. Crowds can make you lonely, lost almost. 
There is a hunger for solitude, physical, or differently, mental and spiritual. Many seek to withdraw and just be alone as an antidote for the busyness and noise.  I follow "Cabin Life" on Instagram, about someone who lives off the grid in Alaska. He's not a hermit, but lives a purer life than I could take all the time.
Still I yearn for a perhaps mythical cabin where I could find solitude from the world and crowds of people and traffic and commercialism. Not all people, but just the chance to slow down. I really think that what this world needs is to slow down and be rather than do. That's what the world needs--time to slow down so people can think rather than react.
My cabin would be perfect for that.  My "cabin fever" is of a different kind.
 "Solitude is not something you must hope for in the future. Rather, it is a deepening of the present, and unless you look for it in the present you will never find it," Thomas Merton

(Day 30 of 31 December paintings.)

December Deliberations

"Southwest Memories," 5 by 7 watercolor card

The Southwest is deliberate--dry air, far horizons, immense skies, high altitudes, intense light...thus the landscapes are sharp-edged, the colors saturated. No wonder the country gets inside of you and lingers. 
As the year ends, while some memories of people and places and events fade into the humidity of cluttered life and time, more are as deliberate and vivid as New Mexico.
The silhouette of the Sandias at sunset, just south of Santa Fe, from a recent visit with friends Zina and Lori, captures that experienced landscape and memories.
"Every moment and every event of every man's life on earth plants something in his soul." --Thomas Merton

(Done earlier this year--Day 29 of 31 December paintings.)

December Determinations

"Cabin Time," 5 by 7 watercolor card

'Tis the time of year to take stock, to review and preview, to sit in solitude and silence and have time to think.
Determination--Finding peace amidst all the noise--retreating from the world's chaos so you can just be, not do, for fortitude and direction for whatever lies beyond the next daybreak, the next month and year. 
"Cabin Time," is where I see such a refuge.
"We are so obsessed with doing that we have no time and imagination left for being." --Thomas Merton, Confessions of a Guilty Bystander, 1966.

(Day 28 of 31 December paintings.)

December--Sunset, Sunrise, Barn Again

Sunset, Sunrise, 5 by 7 watercolor card

Another trip around the sun...every day marks the end and beginning of that journey, no matter what the human calendar says.
But as December wanes and the month named for the two- faced Roman god Janus nears, we seem more aware of endings and beginnings.
I've painted versions of this aging barn many times this year, and I'm not sure what is the attraction, except maybe a fascination with the passing of time. Yesterday's and today's are the most recent, reminding me of the journeys we all travel as the earth makes its journey.
Six months ago, July's daily watercolor challenge included eight more versions, including the seasons, beginning July 6.

Oklahoma Sunrise, 5 by 7, July 6

Here are the links on my blog to each of those: "Oklahoma Sunset," "Oklahoma Winter," "Oklahoma Springtime," "Oklahoma Moonrise,"  "Oklahoma Dust  Bowl," "Green Leaves of Oklahoma," "Oklahoma Autumn."

(Day 27 of 31 December paintings)

"People may spend their whole lives climbing the ladder of success only to find, once they reach the top, that the ladder is leaning against the wrong wall."--Thomas Merton

December--Fading

December metaphor, 5 by 7 watercolor card

Old barns fade as they fall into disuse, like novas that appear and then their light dims after original brilliance. Like December, like years, like lives and experiences. Metaphors for every day.
"Enjoy every day you live, Terry," said my Uncle Mike, shortly before his death.
"Let us come alive to the splendor that is all around us, and see the beauty in ordinary things."--Thomas Merton

(Day 26 of December watercolors)

December Stars--Gates to peace, 2 days til Christmas

"Anticipation," 5 by 7 watercolor card

Anticipation rises when you approach a gate, the road or path beckoning to the other side. 
Christmas nears, and much of the world anticipates a day of peace, respite from the babble and hassle of the god of commercialism. It too is a promise, or at least a hope,  of peace amid a world of unending war and violence and hatred and cruelty and pollution among humans.
Not much has changed since a "Prince of Peace" was born more than 2,000 years ago, and why should we expect it to have? 
He didn't preach and teach because the world was wonderful. He did so because we will always need a different kind of peace as an antidote to our daily, uncertain lives and world.
 "I have told you these things, so that you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." --John 16:33
So said the man who would be crucified because he dared to confront the falsehoods of organized religion and  rampant materialism, lies that bring no peace.
Anticipation of life beyond the gate.

(Day 23 of 31 December watercolors)

 "I have learned that an age in which politicians talk about peace is an age in which everybody expects war: the great men of the earth would not talk of peace so much if they did not secretly believe it possible, with one more war, to annihilate their enemies forever. Always, 'after just one more war' it will dawn, the new era of love: but first everybody who is hated must be eliminated." --Thomas Merton, Collected poems, 1977.
"The sin of religiosity is that it has turned God, peace, happiness, salvation and all that man desires into products to be marketed in an especially attractive package deal." --Merton, Faith and Violence, 1968

December Stars--Living Water, 5 days till Christmas

"Living water," 5 by 7 watercolor card

 Water.
 Find it, you can find life. That's the premise as we search distant planets here and around even more distant stars for life other than on earth. No water, no life.
The sound of running water, a creek, a river, draws us, not just our physical attention, but deep inside, linking us to the stars, eternity.

When you grow up in the West, you don't take water for granted as you might in other well-watered, humid places. You know water is life. It and its opposite, deserts, are metaphors for our lives, physical and spiritual.
In a sense, all water is "living water."
One Buddhist wrote: "Water is life's mater and matrix, mother and medium. There is no life without water."

Three of the world's major religions are religions of the desert, where water was sacred--Judaism, Islam and Christianity.

Islam teaches that Allah created all things using water: "We made from water every living thing. "(Qur’an 21:30).
So does Judaism: "Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters." (Genesis 1:2) (Interesting original thought for me just now--water existed before Creation?) 
Jesus preached living water, for travelers in a dry land:.  

"Whoever drinks of the water that I will give him shall never thirst; but the water that I will give him will become in him a well of water springing up to eternal life." (John 4:14)

This puts Christian baptism, an Catholic "holy water," in a new context.

No wonder Mohammad, Moses and Jesus saw water as purifying. 
Purifying. Isn't that what "Christmas" is supposed to be about?
"The greatest need of our time is to clean out the enormous mass of mental and emotional rubbish that clutters our minds and makes all political and social life a mass illness. Without this housecleaning,we cannot begin to see."--Thomas Merton, "Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander," 1966.

(Day 20 of 31 December watercolors)

December Stars--6 days till Christmas

Mountain Stars, 5 by 7 watercolor card

Mountains call...places of power, where the air is thinner and clearer, where stars are so bright it can seem like day.
It's no accident that many world religions consider specific mountains as sacred. They can be places of solitude, of individual focus, of retreat and rejuvenation, of spiritual preparation for ordeals.

Psalms 121:1--"A song of ascents. I lift up my eyes to the mountains-- where does my help come from?"

The Quran, 16:15--"And He has set firm mountains in the earth so that it would not shake with you."

A favorite song: 
"Go tell it on the mountain,
Over the hills and everywhere.
Go tell it on the mountain
That Jesus Christ is born.

"Go tell it on the mountain—
Yeah, Lord—
Over the hills and everywhere.
Go tell it on the mountain
That Jesus Christ is born.

When I was—when I was a seeker,
I sought the Lord both night and day.
I asked the Lord to help me,
And he showed me—showed me the way."

From Thomas Merton, Trappist monk, writing in The Seven Storey Mountain: " Solitude is not something you must look for in the future. Rather, it is a deepening of the present, and unless you look for it in the present, you will never find it."

(Day 19 of 31 December watercolors)

"Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time." --Thomas Merton

December stars - 7 days 'till Christmas

"December Stars," 5 by 7 watercolor card

Stars--eternity to us mortals. 
When we see stars we are looking back in time, to millions of years for that light to reach us across the expanses of the universe.
A nova, an exploding star, dominates the night sky, causing wonder and worship through the ages, a sign of royalty and divinity,  of auspicious events.
Today, our scientific and materialistic cultures have robbed those stars and novas of their magic, of their power, of the myths and beliefs that gives them meaning, reducing them to being barely noticed in the light- and life-polluting urban world we live in.
But they still exist and have significance for those cultures who know the physical and magical of life are united. 
Life is a miracle. Stars should remind us every night, especially in December. 

(Day 18 of 31 December watercolors) 

 "I believe the reason for the inner confusion of Western man is that our technological society has no longer any place in it for wisdom that seeks truth for its own sake, that seeks the fullness of being, that seeks to rest in an intuition of the very ground of all being." --Thomas Merton, Faith and Violence, 1968, University of Notre Dame press