Given Time

Can't open the rest of the boxes yet, can't open the drawers of art that I have filled. These art materials will wait quietly and percolate without my seeing them for awhile yet. This summer has other things calling me, needing me. I need the materials and the time spent creating but not just yet. It will all have time. The Lord told me long ago that He would give me time to do the things He needs me to do. So. No worries. Joy, hope, love!

Texas Farm for Sale, Seriously!

 

My dear Dad bought this place in about 1978 and now it's mine and now I have to sell it. The place is in Marquez, Texas, and you can see it on Lands of Texas. It's about two hours from Houston, Dallas and Austin, so you can get away from your rat race out there. Very peaceful and quiet. Lots of wildlife and good sunsets. Let me know! It won't last long. It was very nice while it lasted. I will miss it.

Dance the Leaves Down

Dance the Leaves Down, Lord, November’s almost gone!
I’d surely forget to change the seasons. Their comings saturate my eyes with their heralding, their season, their flash in the pan.
It’s dark today and overcast and cloudy. The clouds are moving pretty swiftly now, sending gold to the ground.
Gusts of wind dance the leaves down to the piles on the ground. The colors are auburnished. Some have begun to fade.
Soon the framework skeletons of trees will show and winter will set in. Silhouettes swaying, contrasting the daily skies and nights.
But today, a few leaves still cling to the life they knew. They aren’t fazed by the wind yet, don’t feel too chilled yet.
The rain will mat them all down. Cars will drive them into powder and mush. We’ll forget their short time of glory.
Then ice will come, maybe snow, cold winds and different surrounding light for Christmas.
Inside the trees the process of growing new leaves courses along to spring, the glorious spring. fine portions of God’s designed chemical processes we can only copy.

Retirement

 

I think I could stand this, don't you?

The Gifts God Gave Us

Where does art come from? How is it delivered? How is it received? How does the brain "go away" while the artist works? Does time become a different dimension during that process?

The art, the delivery of it, the reception of it, the brain's occupation and time's dimension during the process are all gifts that God has given.

Arts come from inside a person and involves all parts human: heart, soul, mind, body. It is delivered with paint and other materials manipulated, with words written, with steps danced with or without music, with the scenes and accoutrements of a play, and with the tones and timbre of rhythm and musical instruments and voice. The brain goes to sacred places during the art process. Only God Himself, the Creator of it all, enables these creative messages from artists. The artists could be called the little creators.
Time expands when the manipulations and creations unfold, when the little creators work.

The art of the little creators in all their media can glorify Him who made them. Will you? Shall we? Must we? Yes, for the groundswell is begun. The wave of art and faith is building and we ride it because the little creators are hard at work, producing art that unbelievers can read with their eyes and their ears and their hearts, and they can begin to know God. That's what the gifts are for. These art works are sacred. Thanks, Creator God!

An Artist's Prayer

Thou, O Lord, art most high above all the earth. Grant, therefore, Your strength and truth and blessing to all of us on earth who desire and love Your presence, as makers and viewers of art work. May we bring glory to Your Name by displaying Your excellence through the lives and gifts You have given us. I pray in the Name of Jesus the Christ, amen.

The Music of the Wind

I love the music of the spheres, the music of the wind on the fields and trees, the music of the shadows and the truth. I love the music of souls that hurt and seek the Lord in earnest for unselfish gain. I love the music of the loved ones gone on before me. I love the music that is made in fervent creativity and performed in honest expression. I love the music. I love the people. I love the instruments and the voices and the forces of physics created for this pleasure. I cannot wait patiently for the joy of heaven where all who love Him will sing.