And it’s odd how quickly something, which seemed so ill-fitted at first, can become acceptable. There is something familiar about not knowing what is going to take place next. I think it is called life. How did I ever think it would be otherwise?
Last night I went down into my studio - just a corner in my laundry room - and for the first time I had that urge to paint again. We have an art show coming up at the end of the month that I have been asked to join – but have not felt in any way inspired. Last night I went down the stairs feeling that old familiar feeling - wanting to create something - but I wondered what I would do. I knew it would include the scripture pages that I love so much, some paint and a canvas.
I leafed through the left-over Bible pages first ... then I picked up my paint. To my surprise, I wasn’t drawn to white this time. I picked up some cloth – and started to put it all together.
When I was finished, I had covered a little canvas with a very thin cloth, gray paint – well not actually gray – more like pewter. And then somewhere I found glitter and scattered it into an arc. I was quite pleased with it.
Pewter! Flummoxed! Resolution - less gray! Words!
I didn't pick the words. The words picked me.
To the present hour we hunger and thirst, we are poorly dressed and buffeted and homeless, 12 and we labor, working with our own hands. When reviled, we bless; when persecuted, we endure; 13 when slandered, we entreat.... taken from somewhere in Paul’s letters to the Corinthians.
The words are rather dark – but I don’t feel dark when I am finished. I am breathing again.
“The lights became stars, which became streaks in the gray space, and then networks
of fading shimmers” ― Ashim Shanker