Going to Print

Nothing like a deadline to bring a work to completion.  I am finally pleased with it.  I am taking it to print in the morning.   Now it needs a title.  the working title is "sacrifice," but it has spoken so much more than that to me over these last few weeks.  I've got a few days to decide on the title.  I am submitting this painting and Co-Heir in the Bear Valley Visual Arts Show, which will run through the 26th.  I'll let you know how it is received.  

I've was invited to speak at Cherry Hills Community Church.  This image will likely be the centerpiece of that engagement.  We haven't finalized the date yet.  It will be sometime this summer after I am through with finals.

Like a Mustard Seed

This little concept sketch about faith was developed for a "make a gift for < $5" exchange. I'm not completely satisfied with it. The woman as "Faith rooted in prayer" needs to be a bit more stylized.

Split

I am the tree
Split by the Word
Shot like Lightening
Bone and Marrow
Soul and Spirit
Phased

I am the tree
Splayed all to see
Calm and frightening
Light and Dark
Turmoil and Tumult
Assuaged

I am the tree
Dipped in the blood
Like hysop brushed
Post and Lintel
Red right and center
Page

Empathic

This last Sunday I was opening our worship service. It can so easily be a role call of announcements, a greeting, a perfunctory prayer. But that misses the point doesn't it? We are there to WORSHIP not go through motions. Far be it from me for any part of our service to be perfunctory. So regularly on Sunday mornings I find myself prayerfully reflecting on my week, and looking for what God might have me share with my congregation.

For two weeks now I have been immersed in Dante's Inferno. Visceral and pungent images of hell have been lingering in my peripheral consciousness. Needless to say it has been a dark season. Saturday night I was praying with another, and I was so touched by an evident sin in their lives that I began to weep. Visions of hell make the presence of passing sins like envy or that ever persistent pride much more frightening.

WE ARE NOT MADE FOR THIS STUFF. LUMINOUS BEINGS ARE WE!
(pardon the Yoda Paraphrase)

Dante intentionally matched his poetic stylings to the coarseness of his subject. At times he is rough and vulgar. But this is in direct proportion and ratio with what he is describing. I take heart knowing Paul does the same thing. Sin IS vulgar stuff. There is one circle where the identity of a soul cannot be discerned because it is so self smeared with sh*t. That was the image that was in my mind Sunday morning as I opened our worship service. Luminous beings self smeared with sh*t. Rough? Yes. Vulgar? Yes. True? ...

How is it with your soul?

As I delivered my opening monologue and call to worship I was on the brink of tears in empathy. The chief aim of man is to glorify God and enjoy him forever. We do not have glory to offer to God. He IS glory. He IS glorious. We are simply reflective. We are made to be mirrors of His glory. We are shiny, if you will. But in the fallen state of sin we are smeared, dulled, tainted. And the sad part is that we are often so ashamed of our souls appearance, so humiliated by our depravity, that we refuse to return to the only one who makes us clean! There is no joy in the life of an unrepentant Christian. Unrepentant we are miserable like Adam choosing to hide himself from He who can see all things. The only one we delude is ourselves. Our chief aim is to enjoy Him. To do that we must know Him and be known by Him. He does not stand in judgement of those who will re-turn to Him. He waits with open arms. His mercies are new every morning.

We create this time and place each week on a Sunday morning for one purpose. To commune with our God. It is an sensitive group ritual. It is a rhythm of life and faith. Let nothing keep you from turning yourself over into His care. Whether you are prepared, ready, distracted, beaten, or self smeared in sh*t... Recall that your true self is shiny. Re-turn now to the cleansing flood, His cleansing blood.

Worship your God.

Unto A Point

"It is not by might, and not by power, but by My Spirit" says the Lord of Hosts.

We are under-girded and enabled unto a point!

Singularity!

Unity!

Co-Heir

I attended the International mentoring Conference, and participated in the creativity as mentor workshops. I was overwhelmed. Interacting with the people from around the country and world who were there and seeing the images I created impact their spirits blew me away.
Here are some comments I received about the co-heir image:

"It is so alive, the movement."

"I feel invited in."

"The spiral of people and the way it extends off the canvas makes me feel like it is a larger picture. There are more people involved in this connected chain. I am in that picture somewhere."

"The wounded hand in the center... It is all about that isn’t it."

"There is something of the resurrected body here."

"If I saw this when I died, I would be happy."

"The bowing/worshiping figure captures me."

"They are all connected!"

"This is the great cloud of witnesses, I am urged to run the race."

As I reflected on the conference, I realized that the co-heir image is where I AM. Where I want to be. I sketched a joyous picture “out of the mouth the heart speaks.” I could clearly say that Christ is what has overflowed from my heart. “No longer sin reigns in me.”

I had a hard time drawing light, joyous, happy images before. For the next several days that was all I could draw. I had connected with an inner place of great peace and joy. It felt sustaining. I made the co-heir image my desktop. Every time I look at it I feel reminded that Christ stands inviting me into that place of active joyful engagement.

Transitional

This is a yearning. A transition between sin and co-heir. A picture of repentance. A picture of found peace.

Sin

I had presented my sin image to my small group and saw that it did not just portray my sin. It sparked a discussion about sin that was real, honest, open. It allowed people to comment on what they saw about sin in that image. Many times what they saw was different from what I saw or felt as I made it. They were putting their own understanding and processing of sin into the image. It was an effective tool for delving into the heart of a difficult to discuss topic.

Here are a collection of comments I have had about the sin image in several contexts.

“That eye says, ‘ Don’t you look at me.’”

“That eye says, ‘I can’t believe I did that again.’”

“I am at one time repulsed by this image, and unable to look away.”

“This is sin in a person who knows it is bad. Sin could have looked seductive, but this is a view of sin as incredibly damaging.”

“That’s not what I thought it would look like at all. It looks pathetic. I thought sin would look more proud, angry and strong.”

“It looks sick, diseased, heavy…”

“Erik, that image has been in my head all week. It is something about that eye. I want to focus on the co-heir image, but I can’t get past the sin image.”

“Erik, I told my kids about the image. They want to see it. Can I have a copy?”

“I am comforted to know others feel the way I do.”

My eyes are welling with tears as I remember the insights that people shared as they processed the image. It really does have facility. God used and spoke through my art. I am moved. Humbled.

Word vs Image

It strikes me that language and the written word are just as suspect as imagery - just as incapable of clarity or purity of thought. Yes, Christ did make the Word known and we recorded it in a book. Yes the Scriptures are sacred, inerrant, inspired, etc. Yet our interpretation of that word leads to vastly different conclusions. I’m not talking about gross heresy here necessarily. Even within the pale of orthodoxy, there are differences of interpretation which show words to be imprecise, and wanting. I realize I loathe this imprecision. We were made for understanding. These broken vessels (language, human bodies) are poor for holding truth, and they are poor for dispensing truth.

Poor.
Poor.
Poor.

Come Lord Jesus, quickly!

Confession

Art has become an exercise in confession. It is making the most personal public. (James 5) If art is worth anything (for me) it is fueled by the emotional reality and depth of a moment, and an attentive presence to that depth, and a yearning to express it. Words are good. Conversation is good. Visual art (in the act of creation) is better yet, another means of communication. I am giving birth to a tangible reference of a real moment in time. Not intellectual discourse, but a direct presence of the heart and a direct expression of the heart. This is artistry. Sharing it is communal confession.

Expectations

I expected to see the fruit of artistic expression as an appropriate outlet for stress. I found that I did indeed feel relieved and refreshed through practice of art. I used to fear that being artistic meant I had to live in strong emotion. Instead I find that through art I can experience, express, and move on with emotion. Emotion leaves the tormented place inside my head, and finding expression, it takes residence on a piece of paper where I can reflect on it more objectively.

I expected the practice of artistry would provide time of silence, solitude, meditation, and reflection before God. I encountered this in spades. I have fallen in love with my sketch journal. Not only as a place to record ideas, but a tool for remembering and marking what God has shown.

I expected to gain a new model and praxis for artistry as part of a wholly surrendered Christian walk. This was a struggle. I had many doubts about the holiness and usefulness of art in life and ministry. I had relegated it to icing, instead of the core cake of my life. Indeed, as I surrendered my pen back to the Lord, I have found new joy and life in being a Christian artist. This has not replaced the call or yearning for pastoral ministry; it has colored it. It is now rendered lifelike, real, vibrant, and personal to me. I am very excited about this.

Contentment

Among the other projects I am musing over and working on, the spark of a new one has sprung. There is no surprise that much of art blossoms from that which is passionate. Strong emotion lends itself to verse and symbol. It is easy for me to put pen to blank page when I am bubbling with inner angst, or seething with a rage demanding a cipher, or even when my heart is fluttering with new love. But, what of a passionate contentment? What of an unbridled peace? What of exuberant tranquility of spirit? Has this ground been covered?

My mind swings to Walden. Others may have trod this ground before I guess. I’m not sure.

Today I feel unshakable. There is nothing driving me. Nothing is exceedingly wrong. Nothing is exceedingly right. In truth I am getting over a lingering cold, and am physically sapped. My family is together plodding through the rough and tough fist months of our third son. We are also musing and sighing at his coos and gurgles. Work is on a tight deadline, and I come home drained. School is a persistent yet fruitful exercise in diligence and good scheduling. Forays into Spiritual Direction have had me anxious. But I am unshakable.

I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine! I am the branch attached to the vine. I am vineyard producing good fruit. It just isn’t harvest season, and I am good with that. The verdant young shoots are evident. Everything is promise. I am not just good. I am exceedingly, passionately, exuberantly content.

It isn’t an absence of sin or temptation. It’s just recognition of journey, and refusal to take my eyes off of the truth. A master is at work and its good to be the clay.

Here I Raise My...

Are you ever struck by a word?

I had a moment last spring where a word became a focal point, a harbinger of clarity, a perfect title for a project!

Ebenezer

I've loved the hymn, “O Thou Fount of Every Blessing.” I remember when my worship leader stopped mid verse and asked, "Does anybody know what an Ebenezer is?" He went on to explain that the prophet Samuel had erected a stone on the field of battle after Israel defeated the Philistines to commemorate God's help (1 Samuel 7:12). The word Ebenezer means "stone of help." And to be sure, God's help is an awesome thing to commemorate. But God's help wasn't the concept that grabbed me last spring. It was something else about a stone of help, something in the means and something in the remembering.

Among other duties Christian Artists make Ebenezers. We create that we might remember.

Too easily the memory of God’s faithfulness fades. The prophet who visualizes clearly, “this was important and must be remembered,” is serving well by making a signpost, an object, a remembrance. Maybe it’s a painting, or a song, or a poem, or a verse carved above the door. And maybe, just maybe it is a blog.

There is much much more to say, but here is to good beginnings!