Singing in Rhythm With Leaves

Absolute beauty is so interwoven into creation that only a Divine Being of Omnipotent genuineness can satisfy its reality.  Fall is one of that truth's greatest declarations.  The singular color of each leaf is like a poem in the greatest collection of poetry, a rhythm of hymns that all known collections couldn’t attend to the work of even one tree.  There is no comprehending that kind of overwhelming exuberant Divinity.  Faith, my God, it is all that can hold us to YOU in the reality of standing beneath just such a tree.  “How great Thou art…”  

 

  

  

Growing Old, How To End?

I am growing old.  I have never experienced anything like it.  As a youngster getting older is just getting better at everything you are.  You run faster, you are more agile, and able to navigate the physical obstacles of life as well as the social, emotional, and spiritual.  You are just getting better.  But growing old is monumentally different.  You are not getting better but worse.  You hurt in places you never knew you had and in all the places you did know.  You are slower, deafer, blinder, stiffer, broken and battered, and worst of all, absolutely aware.  I imagine the curse of the Garden will mean that eventually, I will lose my awareness as well; something my mom is living through now.  Is there a silver lining?  OH VERY MUCH SO.  You have lived and you, at least currently, can recall it.  I have visited and hiked all 50 states.  I have hiked the Alps and driven the Dalton Hwy.  I have found the lover of my eternity and love her regularly.  My family is safe, healthy, and present.  I have stood on top of the world, swam in all five Great Lakes, known my body ripped and burned asunder, Died—……….and lived to know it.  I have been a star and a bum; have had friends who would die for me and family I would die a thousand times over for.  My childhood was marvelous, my youth ill-spent, all together ice cold but memorable, and in the end, God in Christ found me and forgave me and spared me from myself.  I have memories that would awe any man and make most believe untrue because of their spectacularness.  I can above all things say…GOD is good.  And if time and eternity persist for me, my retirement is three semesters away and one of the grandest adventures awaits.  How will I move to the end?  The end is in view at least dimly and ending well is a great accomplishment—and as such should take years.  Here is to a lengthy, measured in decades, ending.  GOD, I love you but am so much more grateful You love me! 

Cotton, A Studio Assistant

Maintaining a creative mind and spirit is a daily task for an artist.  One way west Tennessee assists is its long view of row crops.   Throughout the year my lover regularly drives me into the country to see this amazing abundance and none is more helpful than a field of white cotton.  For weeks I watch the fields anticipating the coming miracle, miles, and miles of white fluffy lines of cotton—growing on a plant!!!—heaven had to erupt in a standing ovation when He described it to the angles, probably at the fitting ceremony where each one got their cotton cape.  Yesterday was the day.  My lover and I went to see the show and He did not disappoint, West Tennessee has put on her best cotton gown and elegantly sashays down the row runways.  

A Planned Day is A Great Plan

One great joy in life is applying your mind to a day.  What is possible in one day?  It is just before dawn, minutes away from being able to see outside and day will begin but what will it be like.  Planning a day is about as much as one mind can accomplish.  It is Sunday so we will go to worship at a local church, FGUMC.  We will load the truck, return our library books and head west.   Heading west is always a great lead in to a day and this journey will be the biggest part of our day, 4 ½ hours.  Every day is spent on a path, trail, byway, highway or interstate, here listed in preference to ability to add meaning to the day.  Byway, Hwy. 70, will be our choice, Tennessee’s first state road, Memphis to Bristol.  My day will end in a double recliner, my lover and I warming each others old bodies to slumber temperature.  Eventually we will ease into our tiny bedroom in our college dorm, pray and hold hands to end our day.  Our Good Morning to Good night, October 24, 2021.

On The Edge of Time Waiting On The Trees

Fair Haven lies on the edge of the Eastern Time Zone.  This may not seem to be meaningful except that it messes with the dawn.  It is 7:05 a.m. and it is pitch dark. For someone who is normally awake by 5, this means a substantial amount of day spent waiting on it to be day.  I love dawn, one of the most hope-filled periods of my day but I would prefer to live through it not wait on it.  The bright side of this is the anticipation.  The hopeful straining to see the first outline of the trees in our front yard appearing out of the darkness.  That is the first hint I get that the earth is indeed turning to allow me to bask in the starlight God made for us.  But right now, 7:11, still just black dark.  And there they are, 7:16, the trees and their joyous though quiet, “good morning!”

      

Oxymoron: Fix Your Eyes On THE Unseen

The other day I was reading in my time alone with God and read the following quote;

"The most important thing about you is what comes to mind when you think about God". A.W.Tozer

Today I began to answer that question.  Below is #1.

1. Kind!!!  So very kind that you even know me or care anything about me much less make sure where I am, the world, seems fully capable, without any assistance from humans to take wonderful care of me.  That is what’s so important about a window; it allows your kindness to be present.

 

 

The Long View?

I am trying to develop a new show; brand new Art.  It is very difficult because at present I have no body of work propelling me forward.  I have cause, theme, or concept, a set of guiding principles listed below;  

ART RULES

1. Must glorify God.

2. Simple enough to not need to be explained.

3. Complex enough to be Art.

but no ideal ideas for work.  It is my last show at Union scheduled for the spring of 2023.  I feel the weight of it, the culmination of 30 years of teaching, the last lecture if you will.  When I leave Union I am not walking across town but leaving town.  It is the rear-view mirror that has got me, the glancing back without regret.  I had better get it right, a lot is riding on it for me.