A Creative Chasm

It is becoming an ever-increasing burden on me to make work that points literally and specifically to our Lords plea for all humans, “be reconciled to God!”  The greatest load of the burden is to find ways to make in which they can know the plea.  When art is moved from seeing to knowing a great gulf must be creatively crossed. 

An A Game Is Demanded

The book of Leviticus drives home one great truth; the personal relationship between humans and God is serious business with God.  How could we choose a lesser response? 

Oh the peace of Peace

There is something profoundly meaningful in being offered a relationship with Someone in whom nothing is outside of knowing how much truly is outside of you.  The greater peace is not knowing that Someone but that Someone knowing you and still seeking a relationship. 

What Your Longing Means

I am always fulfilled by how easily a secular audience adopts a spiritual understanding when Christ is sincerely presented to them.  Christ was never threatening to the lost but only to those that used religion to support self-righteousness.  For sure Jesus is in the Sabbath sermon but He is also deeply apparent and sincerely obvious in the entire world even in the world of the skeptic artist.  Christ is always reaching out in longing not in condemnation.  That longing is the surest sign that you are indeed His ambassador and almost always elicits a sincere response from the world you sit among.      

An Old Mule

An art show is a heavy burden if it is a show of art.  That burden will be shed Sunday when the work and all its accompanying systems arrive back home.  At the end of a show I often feel like an aging mule strapped with sacks of spirituality, emotionality, physicality and intellectualism, waiting to be unloaded and let out to pasture. 

PS: Fair Haven is a great pasture.

The Great Ancient

In the mountains of east Tennessee and a bit of snow has fallen.  A line of deer gently winds through the woods.  The Bensons are gathering from all the hills and hollers like some ancient tribe being called together by blood and toil for a family rite.  The old ones hobbling the young scampering.  It is a satisfying thing to be in an ancient clan, many called home but the tree full of new ones.  The Bensons are gathering and the great joy of it all is “where two or more are gathered in My name…”  The hills are coming alive with rustling woods as The Great Ancient is on the move.