Artuality: A Festival of Art and Life

Introducing a new monthly festival on art and life!

Art has been a shaping force in my life. Through art, I encounter God, am challenged to think in new ways, and see new perspectives. Art influences my spirituality, my art, and my life.

I have a feeling I’m not the only one who experiences art in this way.

Hence, Artuality.

Artuality is a festival for artists and art lovers to share the place of art in their lives. Every month we’ll focus on a different art form. You can share how this form or a particular piece done in that medium influenced you by writing about it, telling a story, composing a song, penning a poem, or sharing a painting, photography, a quilt, a new recipe (I especially encourage you to bring the recipe to my house so I can try it out!), a collage, a sculpture (Play Doh, marble, clay–whatever your favorite medium) or any other art form you love or want to try.

This month is paintings. It can be a painting you’ve seen at a museum or gallery, a painting you’ve done, or the one your son hung on the fridge.

You can put up your post at any time during the month. When your post is up, add it to Mr. Linky below. Please also leave a comment when you add to Mr. Linky so I know when it’s there. If you don’t have a blog and want to participate, feel free to use the comments below.

Also, if you’d like to put in your post the Artuality badge and link to this post so others can join the fun, feel free to grab the Artuality badge or you can use this html for the Artuality image and link: <a title="Artuality: A Festival of Art and Life" target="_blank" href="/content/artuality%3A-festival-art-and-life"><img src="/files/images/artuality.jpg" width="218" height="188" /></a>

Learn more about the impetus behind Artuality by watching the video below. The video is less than one minute and features a painting Chris and I bought in April (part of the accidental auction–except this one we bought on purpose).

I’ll post my Artuality tomorrow. I can’t wait to see how art’s influenced your lives!



The Story of Your Life, Part Nine

It happened one night, it was a dark and stormy night, it was the best
of times, it was the worst of times. No matter how it begins, everyone
has a story to live. This series looks at the story of the Christian
life. Part Nine talks about The Road Back, or intigrating The Reward
into your everyday life.

This video runs about 4 minutes.

The Story of Your Life, Part Eight

It happened one night, it was a dark and stormy night, it was the best
of times, it was the worst of times. No matter how it begins, everyone
has a story to live. This series looks at the story of the Christian
life. Part Eight looks at the Reward earned after the Ordeal–when you’ve finally found what you’ve been looking for.

(You know a girl’s gotta quote U2.)

Part Eight runs five and a half minutes.



Tell me this is a joke…

Campaign launched to liberate ‘speling’

Also, I’ll be starting a new monthly carnival (sorry, Mich) on my blog. I’ll have details up next week!

Book Thoughts–Till We Have Faces by C.S. Lewis

I just finished Till We Have Faces by C.S. Lewis and needed to come get out some of these thoughts swirling around in my head. I started talking about it on Christianne’s blog because I see parallels in the book to so many ares of the Christian life. It’s one of those books that you could pick up a dozen times and get something different out of it because you’re in a different place in your life every time.

It’s not a simple allegory. It’s not even a metaphor. It’s a story rich with metaphors. It’s like Lewis held a prism up to Truth, and it shot colors and light all over the room. You don’t know which one to follow first.

Lewis takes the story of Psyche and Cupid and pulls out Truth–a god who fell in love with a woman and a woman who fell in love with a god and the suffering they endured to be reunited. Lewis recreates the story with who I think is his most sophisticated and well-developed character, Orual.

What can I say about Orual? She’s lovable, pitiable, hateful, jealous, loving, comforting, mothering, spiteful. I am her and yet I hate her and love her and understand her and beg for her to change.

And then there’s Psyche, so full of joy and yet so willing to give it up in order to redeem Orual.

The story is written from Orual’s perspective, who takes up her pen to lodge a complaint against the gods who took Psyche, her beloved sister, from her. She tells the story, and Lewis pulls us into her point of view–her love and her sorrow. And though there are times that you can see Orual’s fault and you want to yell at her and tell her no!, there are also times when you’re so ingrained in her head that you never see how she failed until she learns it herself in the end. Ah, the brilliance of the book.

Lewis weaves in elements from the original myth in surprising ways. You see them and you think, what are they doing here? They belong over there. And then when you come to the end, it all makes sense. Can I say it again? Brilliant.

It’s a story about love and redemption and the Christian life. You are in need of redemption, and then you are God’s conduit to redeem another. You are fighting those who tell you to walk by sight rather than by faith, and you are the voice that’s a stumbling block to your sister.

Right now in my life, I’m Psyche trekking up the hill to this unknown death. I’m scared. There was so much promise. So many people said so. But now I’m being tied to this cross. I don’t know what’s next. At the first of this year, I told you about my most difficult prayer. It’s a prayer of insignificance (there were all these lovely comments on it encouraging me, but alas, those are lost to my old blog). And this insignificance at it’s heart is a death-to-self. Deliver me from service of self alone, as the prayer goes (from The Book of Common Prayer).

I’ve posted discussion questions for this book that you can steal for your own book club or interact with on Intersection.

Just another manic Monday

Some of the authors of the Bible used a writing technique called chiasm. It’s where the outside statements work in parallel to each other, coming together and pointing to the center statement as the crux of it all. Like a cross. A1, B1, C1, D, C2, B2, A2.

Or sometimes the middle will be two statements reflecting each other (a D1 or D2).

I like writing techniques.

***

I couldn’t sleep the other night, so I started thinking about the cruise Chris and I are going to take. Then I started thinking what if I fall off the side, and what if I’m saved but in the process am knocked unconscious and have amnesia.

Wouldn’t that be fun? If you have amnesia, you get to live each moment brand new. You wouldn’t know who to hold a grudge against, which regret to mourn, which foods you didn’t like.

But then I thought, no, I’d forget the good things like how much I love my husband’s arms around me, or how to dance, or I’d forget to have my afternoon tea. Wouldn’t it be much more fun to live as if I had amnesia with the bad stuff and a grudge’s memory with the good stuff?

***

We’ve had squirrels in our attic for a long, long time. Chris fills holes he finds where they sneak in. He sets up humane traps with all sorts of fun foods like popcorn with maple syrup. And I pray that God will guide the squrrel into the trap so that the squirrel won’t die but can be set free. But two weeks later, the trap is empty and noises fill the world above our heads. How could they be surviving with no food or water? Then we found a new hole.

One night, I braced myself for the squirrels to come crashing through our ceiling above our bed. They were nesting, I think.

Chris saw one once when he was checking the trap. They startled each other.

Chris keeps filling the holes, but they keep making new ones.

I think the squirrels are winning.

***

My church put together a devotional to go with the Lenten readings. Last Wednesday, we read Mark :29-45 where Jesus heals people like crazy–disease, demon-possession, handicaps. Everywhere he goes they follow. Just when he builds a congregation, he leaves for the next place. It’s a mad Billy Graham crusade. And then Jesus goes off in a monastic corner to pray. The commentary says:

  • "It appears Jesus could learn a thing or two about church growth. At a time of growing crowds and highly effective ministry, Jesus disappears. Rather than pressing forward with a building campaign or organizing small groups or making His sermons available on the Internet, Jesus seeks out solitude to pray."

That stuck with me.

***

Jesus told us to live in community with each other. Communities are messy. They mean mud tracked on your carpet, a glass bowl smashed, a hand printed on your wall.

But that can be lovely too.

***

I get in musical moods. Last week, I was in an 80s mood: Depeche Mode, Erasure, The Clash, The Cure, Guns N Roses, Poison. So I created a youtube playlist. 80s Rock Bands. Every so often, I’d click over to watch a snippet of the video. Guns N Roses had videos from their early days to present. It made me wonder, when did they get old?

***

Did you know that in Greek stauros means "cross" and staurao (with a long o at the last) means "to crucify"? Stauros for the Christians than came to mean specifically the cross of Jesus Christ and then "the suffering/death which believers endure in following the crucified Lord," which means that staurao meant not only "to fasten to a cross, or crucify" but also "destroy through connection with the crucifixion of Christ." As in, our passion for worldly things has been crucified (Romans 7:2). Someone wrote in my Greek lexicon, "the believer who is inseparably united to the Lord has died on the cross to the kind of life that belongs to this world" (c.f. Galatians 6:14).

Huh?

I’ve been listening to these philosophy of religion lectures. Recently, the professor came to Martin Buber, a Jewish philosopher. I have to admit up front that I’ve never read Buber (that I remember, although, come to think about it, I think I did read one of his essays several years ago, but that hardly counts), so these thoughts come from hearsay.
Buber wrote a book entitled I and Thou (actually, the title is technically in German, so it might be something like Ich und Du). The important thing to notice, according to the professor, is the word “thou,” which, because of its use in Shakespeare and the King James, I have always took to be some high-falutent word. Not so, says the monkey. (I don’t know where the monkey came from, but that’s what he said. And there was no arguing with him.) Anyone who has studied a foreign language knows that our English is one of the few languages that does not have a separate formal and informal “you.” Apparently, many moons ago, we did, and thou was the informal usage. Point being, if I can get out my machete and hack through all this, the Christian life (for Buber, the Jewish life) is about encountering God everyday. Buber argues (again, from what I understand) that God is not this object to be studied with scientific methods and the like, but He is someone to be encountered everyday. Corollary: (and here’s what hit me like a piano falling in a cartoon) our particular experiences with God can be idolatry. Huh? How can an experience be idolatry if it’s with God? When we long for the experiences more than we long for God, then, well, you fit the jigsaw together. And I think this is a lot of our culture. We want these mountain top experiences to get us through the week, whether it’s some big concert or extreme sport or a worship experience. I confess, at times I have thought, oh, remember that time at the Passion conference and how we all felt so close to God and each other? And I want that back. Idolatry.
It makes me wonder if this is the root of some of the worship wars: I want this music. No, I want this, says one toddler to the other.
Don’t get me wrong. Praising God is a good thing, a very good thing. And to feel good while praising Him is a good thing. And praising Him with music or art or whatever we like is a good thing. It’s the longing for the feeling good over the praising God part that catches us. One of those fine line things, methinks.
So the question is thus: how do I encounter God every moment of every day when I clean the toilets or call a friend or write or practice piano or go to church or take cookies to my neighbor or, well, you get the idea.
Immanuel.

The Glory of Love

Last week, my husband brought me roses just to make me feel special, roses and the makings for a favorite drink. I basked in my husband’s love.
Then we got in a huge fight. Hurt and anger on all sides. But in the midst of this hurt and anger, my husband wrapped his arms around me and told me that he loves me. I told him not to hug me if he didn’t mean it. He held me tighter.
That night my husband showed me both sides of his love, the romance that makes me feel special, and the unconditional love that holds me close even when we have both said hurtful things.
How many times have I stomped on God’s foot and He held me even closer?
I’m teaching at a retreat in February about the bride and bridegroom, about the Church and Christ, about our hope of the wedding feast, the kick-off to an eternity of peace and joy and harmony (and melody and rhythm…), about our responsibilities while waiting for our bridegroom, who has gone to prepare a place for us. Meanwhile, God continues to send us gifts to make us feel special, gifts in the form of springtime roses and winter sledding snow and backdoor friendships. And He continues to love us when I spit in His face, when, as the betrothed, I set my eyes on another groom, on the groom of a comfortable life or writing or music. This is our love story.
That’s the story of, that’s the glory of love.