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The Highest Form of Hope

 

conversation stoppers for art snobs

I came across a funny post the other day on millinerd.  Though I don't usually read blogs of people I have no actual connection with, I feel as if he is an exception.  Anyone who links to the satorialist, writes articles on church architecture, and posts videos of Demitri Martin is clearly worth reading!  The post in question was a list of conversation stoppers for overeducated evangelicals - and it is very funny as are some of the additions made in the comments.   This exercise in poking fun at one own snobbery inspired me to do the same.  Feel free to add to mine, or start your own! 

10.  "Could you draw a wolf for me?"
9.  "I really enjoyed seeing Maxfield Parish's work.  In fact, your style is quite similar to his!"   
8.  "It's pretty clear to me that Glen Scrimshaw is Saskatchewan's greatest artist."
7.  "Art is something that should just come out of you as authentic self-expression.  I mean, if you plan it all out doesn't it become somewhat contrived?" 
6.  "My kid could paint that."  
5.  "Yes, but what about 'Voice of Fire'?"
4.  "Painting must be a very relaxing hobby."
3.  "I just don't understand why art has to cost so much money."
2.  "Art is whatever you feel it is."
1.  "I bought you that Kinkade print you wanted for your birthday.  It was "Kinkade", wasn't it?"

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Thinking about distance...

As those of you who have read my artist statement or heard me talk about my series of paintings already know (because I probably have talked about it a lot), the title of my series is "Crossing the Distance" (or "The Distance Between" depending on how I feel).  Regardless of my ever changing titles, it is safe to say that "distance" is the main theme of this series.  And today I came across a quotation about distance that made me think, and then made me glad to have devoted a large chunk of time and effort to contemplating distance.

"God did not create anything except love itself, and the means to love.  He created love in all its forms... Because no other could do it, he himself went the greatest possible distance, the infinite distance.  This distance between God and God, this supreme tearing apart, this agony beyond all others, this marvel of love, is the crucifixion... This tearing apart, over which supreme love places the bond of supreme union, echoes perpetually across the universe in the midst of silence, like two notes, separate yet melting into one, like pure and heart-rending harmony.  This is the Word of God.  The whole creation is nothing but its vibration."
- Simone Weil

When I was finally finished the work of painting, it felt a bit anti-climatic.  I was done, but the paintings still sat in a basement bedroom.  I thought I would cry or go out and celebrate or at least call some friends to tell them the news...  but none of those things happened.  It seemed so strange that I devoted 2-3 years to these paintings and I hadn't really thought about what was to happen after they were complete.  It was also strange to put them up for people to see, and I was surprised how unsatisfied I felt with them once they were hanging on the wall.  There's a lot in this quotation that reminds my of Beauty of the Infinite, which was one of the main inspirations for the "distance" series.  Anyways, it was a good reminder of why I began this series in the first place.   

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My Dishwasher is Trying to KILL ME

I love my dishwasher.  It is probably one of my most useful appliances.  And, as those of you who have lived without one know, once you own a dishwasher it is nearly impossible to live without one.  I run mine at least once a day, and if it were ever to break down I would be on the phone with the repair guy as soon as humanly possible.

Though I have warm feelings toward this helpful appliance, I am beginning to suspect my dishwasher is feeling unappreciated and even resentful toward me.  Yes, it's true that I don't always rinse the dishes before loading, and I do use it to wash pots and pans from time to time, and I have been known to use the cheap no-name dish detergent and skimp on the jet dry.  Normally my dishwasher voices its displeasure by clouding my glassware and spotting the cutlery... until the fall of 2005, when it finally reached its breaking point.

For a couple of cycles the dishwasher refused to drain in a timely manner.  I assumed, because of being prone to skip rinsing (or even adequately scraping), that the the drain was likely clogged.  Not wanting to bother anyone with more appliance know-how than myself, I decided to use what I always used in clogged situations - DRAINO.  I poured the Draino down into the flooded bottom of the washer and let it sit before running through a cycle.  Slowly the excess water drained and after a couple of days I tried again to run through a load of dishes.  But once more, the rinse water collected at the bottom of the dishwasher refusing to drain.  This time I decided to get serious.  I bought a stronger, more toxic clog buster.  Once again I poured it down the drain and waited.  Then I ran through another cycle to cleanse the caustic chemicals away.  

A few minutes later I went back to the kitchen to check on the progress.  A strange chemical odor filled the air and foam was spewing out the bottom of the door.  Foolishly, I opened the dishwasher door and was immediately overcome by chlorine gas!!  The Draino from my first attempt to unclog the dishwasher was still sitting in the pipe and had reacted with the more powerful drain cleaner to create a noxious gas.  My trachea clamped shut as a I ran downstairs to warn Paul who was watching TV with Sasha.  I barely managed to sputter "... get... out... of... the.... house!"  We threw a blanket over two-year-old Sasha's head and ran outside into the freezing weather.  After phoning poison control and having a decontamination shower at a friend's house, our home - at least our basement - was once again suitable for habitation.... Though my lungs were working at only half capacity weeks later.  

It was certainly not my first inclination to blame the dishwasher for this incident.  Clearly the fault lay squarely on me and my failure to read warning labels.  But another run in with my dishwasher a few days ago has made me suspect that this useful appliance may have a dark side.  
I was cleaning up supper on Saturday night and naturally, loading the dishwasher is part of this everyday routine.  I could have swore I closed it.  I'm almost sure I did.  In any case within seconds I had tripped over the open dishwasher door and was flying through the air ending up on the other side of the kitchen in a crumple, bruised, quivering heap.   Sasha seemed mildly concerned yelling, "Daddy!  Mommy hurt herself!"  followed by, "Mommy can I have more juice?"  In my tumble I landed partly onto the door bending the hinges out of shape so now it catches whenever I try to open it.  I find it highly unsettling that my dishwasher so easily sacrifices itself in order to maim me... as if it has some kind twisted of murder/suicide plan in mind. 

Whatever fiendish revenge the dishwasher has pre-ordained, it's clear that years of pent-up rage and resentment have reached the point of no return.  But I am hoping that some Cascade and an extra round of jet-dry will pacify its murderous impulses for now...  Though I can tell you one thing; I'll be hand-washing my pots and pans tonight! 

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Bragblog: Interval Art Show

Art connoisseurs Amy and Mark Agar.
Cora Lynn speaking at the opening Friday night.Brendan sharing his thoughts on abstract expressionism.


I'm happy to say that I had a FABULOUS time over the weekend putting on "Interval" with Cora Lynn. A big thanks goes out to Lisa Braun and students who ran the cafe - their involvement was invaluable! And of course we appreciated everyone who took the time to come out and participate throughout the weekend - it was a great priviledge to share our work with our home town, our families and friends!

The show started on Friday night with free cupcakes and a short program. My brother Matt came all the way from Honduras just to attend - what a great guy, hey? Cora Lynn and I felt very affirmed by everyone's encouragement; we especially appreciated Gil's comments about how our art was the "prettiest art of all the art"... Well said indeed!

On Saturday afternoon we had a "bring-your-own-art" work time in the cafe which was well attended and on Sunday evening we had an interactive "artist talk". I think this was my favorite event of the whole weekend. The students who came out asked such insightful questions and participated wonderfully in the discussion.

And in case you haven't had a chance to come by, the artwork is still up at Bethany College, and since we successfully put holes in the walls, they may be up for a couple weeks more!

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Growing into...

Last Sunday, Kelly and I began an adult Sunday school series on spiritual growth and maturity.  We are working with some excellent material, though we’ve definitely put out own spin on it.  Unlike the typical lecture style class I often gravitate toward (more because a non-lecture style class is almost always more work!), this class has incorporated drama, small and large group discussion, reflection and prayer.  It is truly good to exercise different ways of knowing.  It’s also a privilege to work with a friend and learn from each other along the way, though it can be painfully hard to get down to work when you have so much to visit about!  

During our large group discussion, one gentleman who normally is quiet during our adult Sunday school discussions made a very insightful observation.  He observed that a class on spiritual growth holds to very different concepts than, say a seminar on professional growth.  And it is true.  Growing as a Christian is very different than other types of growing we focus on. 

Growing up and reaching maturity in life is often about reaching a certain amount of independence.  Noah is at the stage where each activity must first begin with his effort – he needs to try it first.  If he finds it’s too difficult, only then it appropriate for mommy to help.   We hear “I DO IT!” several times a day (in capital letters of course).  Through every temper tantrum, Noah is slowly asserting his independence from me.  Apart from how that can make me feel (it fluctuates between motherly pride and feeling he's growing up too fast), it is completely natural because becoming independent is what growing up is all about. 

…Unless you’re talking about “growing up” spiritually.   Spiritual maturity is all about increased dependence.   There is no point in our spiritual journey where we are mature enough to “do it ourselves”.  The truest sign of a spiritual growth is the increasing realization that we need God.   Growing into dependence seems scandalously upside down, especially in a culture that so highly values individualism and independence.   But that is the kingdom way…  As we mature, it becomes more natural to deflect honor and status from ourselves onto God, from which everything good has its source.   

Growing is realizing how small you are.

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THREE MONTHS!

The countdown is now at THREE MONTHS for our ten-year anniversary trip to Europe!!  I can hardly believe it's going to happen - three years of planning and saving!  So I thought I'd show you a couple of interesting tidbits from my obsessive/compulsive travel planning binder...

First we're off to London... We were going to stay at a mennonite center (romantic no?), but I recently got a deal on a nice hotel in Kensington instead (it was around the same price - unbelievable).  We'll go to the British Museum, Tate Modern (of course), and take a day trip to Oxford.  I want to also take in a play but I'm told not to bother buying tickets until we're actually there.  Since this trip is planned solely by me (Paul has given me complete free reign) it will be a decidedly nerdy vacation with lots of museums and art galleries and a few littler known attractions like the Hunterian, and Dennis Sever's House.  But I am really trying to find some sporting event to go to but soccer will be over by that time... Any other ideas sports fans?

After our week in London we're taking the train to Paris.  There will be a more relaxing week... mostly walking around, mingling in parks, people watching... maybe a trip to Giverny to see Monet's house.   Oh, and did I mention...  We're staying 100 feet from Notre Dame Cathedral?!!! THIS will be the view from our studio apartment's window:

WOW.  This Vacation Rental thing better not be a scam or I'll be heart-broken!  Our apartment is apparently walking distance from just about everything... The Louvre and the Pompidou Centre in particular!  I. CAN'T. WAIT.  

I know you're all hating me right now, but take heart.  My perfect trip is not yet complete.  I was hoping to finally go see my first real concert during these two weeks... SURELY some band I like should be on tour then.  After the disappointment earlier this year over Coldplay canceling their western Canadian dates, I thought to myself "Maybe they'll be in London this June, and wouldn't it be amazing to see them perform in their home country?" Well they're not.  Coldplay will be in Edmonton, Calgary and Winnipeg while WE'RE gone!  GRRRR!  Plans of going to a real concert before I'm thirty have been foiled again!  

Oh well,  I'm sure I'll survive.  Don't you just hate me even more for complaining?  

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Out of Deep Gladness

“The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the worlds deep hunger meet.”  - Frederick Buechner

"If we would follow Jesus we must take certain definite steps. The first step, which follows the call, cuts the disciple off from his previous existence. … The first step places the disciple in the situation where faith is possible. If he refuses to follow and stays behind, he does not learn how to believe." – Dietrich Bonhoeffer

 

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I was privileged enough to visit my brother and stay with a dear friend out in Winnipeg over the weekend a couple weeks ago.  Karsten, my brother, showed me all the cool areas of town, like the Exchange, the Forks and St. Boniface…  Since he is a part-time film editor part time hobo (he seriously is) and therefore does not own a car, we took the bus around town in minus twenty weather.  I felt as if I was able to get to know the real Winnipeg, horrific dog sculptures and all!  And I quite liked it; it is an artsy town, albeit a bitterly cold one.   While I wasn’t bussing through Portage and Main, I gladly spent time visiting with Sherry (who lives in the cutest house ever), the friend I was staying with.  It was the best type of trip: interesting places I hadn’t seen before and long chats with people I wish I saw more of.  I even had a wonderful travelling buddy (Kelly) who kept me company when our flight from Saskatoon was delayed.

 

It seems as if my paths keep crossing (at least they did that weekend) with people in transition, people in the space between something past and something new… And I finding more and more that I’m feeling like I’m in that same space right now.  I had a conversation with Kelly on the plane (or was it in the oddly decorated restaurant we spent our delay in?) about God’s call, a topic which seemed to be pertinent in this stage of our lives.  I would have to agree with her that I feel a tension between two answers I received to the question of God’s call.   One; that God’s call is to live in the present – it is not a specific place or decision, but rather being faithful with whatever situation we’ve been given.  Two; that God does call us to specific locations, to jobs, to opportunities, to specific people…  For myself, the first answer comes easier (on a certain level).  The second leaves too much open – there’s too much room for error.  What happens if we miss the call?  What happens if we get it wrong?  And how on earth do we know what God’s call in our lives is?  The first response can also be frustrating (especially for one who hates waiting), and I would think that it might be easy to use this answer as an excuse to pass up opportunities to join God in his work because it is simply too far out of our normality.    


When Christ calls us, our answering is obedience… not to our credit, but it is Christ himself who is behind our answering.  Christ’s call brings us to the place where “faith is possible”, where all that we’ve held onto – those things that define us, that give us security – are stripped away, made meaningless, “counted as loss”.  As the first response hints at, the moment of call is completely in the present, in that the circumstances surrounding us are nullified and we are nothing but ourselves.   

 

I am currently taking great comfort in that it is Christ’s work that is behind the ability to obey, the ability to answer the call.  This might seem a simple enough concept, or perhaps it might seem like avoiding responsibility all together...  Answering the call is not laying back and waiting for something to happen, it is faith itself.  It is in faith in response to being called that our “deep gladness” begins to mirror God’s own joy, in all its countless and unique ways.  And it is out of this joy that we join in – out of joy we move to a new country, out of joy we change careers, out of joy we remain faithful in the seemingly small things. 

 

Not that it is all gladness and no hardship… the call is to mend brokenness and feed hunger by entering into brokenness and hunger more fully than ever before.  But joy compels us.  It is our momentum, it is the gladness of giving up all the things that define and comfort us.  Perhaps it is in these moments (a career change, moving to a new community, entering a new ministry) that we think we are “answering the call”.  These situations are perhaps better understood as symptoms of our answering Christ’s first call.  We often talk about these experiences (or long for such experiences) using the words “dream”, “purpose” or even “calling”.   Christ called us to be his disciples, to answer is faith, and the joy that is born from that faith is what propels us to enter situations where God is at work.  As generous God has been in giving each unique and beautiful gifts, so to are we to be generous as we pour out these gifts to the world.  It is not simply about pursuing a personal dream, or being called to a specific place, or finding our life’s purpose (though I think all may be possible).  Such experiences, such journeys are, at their core, allowing this joy overflow to feed a hungry world.

 

 

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Bragblog - Upcoming Art Show


So now it's time for some shameless self-promotion - well, not just for myself, but also for my painting buddy and close friend Cora Lynn Carey (the creator of our very professional-looking publication above)!  We are putting on a joint exhibition at Bethany College entitled "Interval".  It will feature our most recent paintings and it will be first time many of them are on public display.  The main program will be on March 20th with the doors opening at 7:00 p.m. and the program beginning at 7:30.  Cora Lynn and I will be sharing on our paintings and our processes. The STUCO coffee shop will be running that evening and there may also be some baked goods available.   The paintings will be on display all weekend long so come out and enjoy the artwork!  Everyone is welcome, so bring your friends! 

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A REAL Hockey Mom



I didn't grow up in a small town.  I didn't grow up playing any team sports (unless you count "jazz dance" as a team sport).  The whole small-town-team-sports world is completely foreign to me.  I had no idea what it takes to run a team on limited budget and volunteer power, let alone what it takes to run a team in the most time-consuming, expensive, fundamentalist sport of all sports! I am of course speaking of hockey.  

Last weekend was Sasha's first hockey tournament and the team's first home tournament.  I refused to send him to the away tournaments because he is only FIVE YEARS OLD - apparently even four year olds go to these day long tournaments.  Only in small-town hockey would four-year-olds be competing in a round robin tournament...  

... I had no idea what we were getting into.  

"Working the booth?  Yeah sure I can do that.  What? I'm supposed to write orders down? Oops... I'm really sorry you had to wait thirty minutes for your rink burger.   You want me to make draw boxes for raffles?  Okay.  How many?  Five draw boxes?  Alright then.  Donate two prizes... Sure!  What's a fifty-fifty?  I'm supposed to tape the loonies to the hockey stick?  Why? Do the clock?  No, I think you'd better talk to Paul...  We're selling tacos now?"


So a big THANK YOU to all who put up with my ignorance that weekend!  And I actually did have a really good time, though I was able to watch only one period of Sasha playing.   They were so cute, skating in their little pack!  And by the end of the day, the players were so tired they could barely stand.  At least three were laying down on the ice at any given moment during the final game!  But Sasha had a wonderful time - which is the most important thing!  

Oh yeah, and I won the twoonie stick draw!  You have to be a REAL hockey mom to know what that even is!

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