My teenage daughter was once a typical middle schooler. She attended church with a group of her peers. At the end of their service they went up to the front to worship. Like many others, she stood around whispering to her friends watching other people. She wasn’t focused on God or singing for that matter. I was disturbed, but how can you make someone, a preteen at that, love to worship? Worship has to come from their heart. They have to want to worship. Otherwise it is a duty, joyless and contrived. I discussed my feelings about it to her. Often the Lord spoke to me during times of worship. I let the matter drop. However, inside my chest, my heavy heart was breaking.
In the studio, I worked on a sculpture called Thankfall. I made a plaster casting of Samantha's face. I don’t know what she was thinking when I made the casting, but the expression on her face was lovely, adoring. When the plaster dried, I made a positive image with stoneware clay. Feeling inspired, I embellished the wet clay head with hand formed, clay petals and leaves.
A tubular torso was created to hold two long slender Sycamore branches, to which I attached carved stoneware hands. One thicker branch held the head. Upon the completion of the sculpture it was emotively spiritual. Face upturned toward Heaven, hands raised to God. It was displayed for almost a year in our home and several times publicly. What amazed me, and continues to amaze me, was the ripple effect.
My husband and I were in church during worship, visually combing the church for our daughter. We’d allowed her to sit in the main service with a friend. My husband leaned over and shot me a look nodding to the direction where she stood. The congregation was singing Michael W. Smith’s “You Are Holy ( Prince of Peace )”, one of Samantha much loved songs. When I turned to see where she was, there she stood: face sweetly toward Heaven, hands upturned in holy gratitude. My breath caught in my throat and my eyes began to weep. I looked back at my husband. He also had tears welling in his eyes( he might not want me to tell you that). I was so blessed to catch her worshipping. It gripped my heart and I feel tears of joy sting my eyes even now recalling that moment.
Another year has since passed since that night. Now Sam worships with abandon, always focused, sometimes even kneeling. Many times the Lord has chosen that time to speak to her heart. I thank God for my daughter’s love for her savior. And that life mirrors art.
Golden
If I were to have a favorite time of day, it would be Golden Hour. Inching to the horizon almost imperceptibly, beginning when the sun is at shoulder level. Where the meadow is a rich amber green and everything the setting sun touches bears a golden tone. Edges of the plants are outlined in translucent honey light. Heat of the after noon is traded for cooler dusk...
(To read more of this contact the blog author)
(To read more of this contact the blog author)
Dare to Dream
Michael and I talked nearly an hour about getting to a place where one can do the work they are called to. How is one motivated? Obedience vs. Our good pleasure; God’s good pleasure vs. fame and fortune; finding time vs. burning desire.
We ask ourselves, who does it help?
What difference does it make if I make sculptures or Michael writes great music?
Is our discontentment with our artistic status in the journey worth the cost?
Who is affected by our disobedience/ obedience?
We are often left with no way to measure the impact of the work. Because of this, if we are using impact to gauge the success of our work, we may begin to seek the affirmation and validation of men. This incorrect focus no longer centralizes God. We may begin catering to man instead of reflecting God.
I am reminded of a story I heard several years ago…Man of faith, singing under the bridge. I’ll boil it down to it’s main components having forgotten many of the details.
A male singer was asleep in bed and awakened in the middle of the night. He thought he understood the Lord calling him to go to a certain bridge and sing Amazing Grace from beneath it. The man wrestled with the idea, thinking it ridiculous. Unable to go back to sleep, he decided to go. Who would it hurt? It was late and dark and the man sang Amazing Grace under the very bridge he had been led to. He went home, feeling like a nut I imagine, and went to bed and didn’t tell a soul.
At a future point in time, he was asked to sing at a location- I want to say a church. The man accepted the invitation. Afterward a second man came up to him and said,
"You sang Amazing Grace at the such and such bridge in the middle of the night." and gave the details of that evening. The man asked how do you know this? The second man said,
" I was on top of the bridge ready to take my life. I asked the Lord to give me some kind of sign to persuade me not to and I heard that song. I never saw you, but when I heard you sing tonite, I knew it had been you. You saved my life. " I believe the man had given his life to the Lord afterward.(Please forgive me for the loss of so many details, including the author.)
Many Christian artists may go a life time never knowing that kind of impact from their gifts. I think many artists want to be used by the Lord, but our impact is often invisible. It is not usually what motivates an artist. It may inspire them. How blessed to know it this side of heaven.
Personally, I can usually get by with an “Atta girl”, “That’s beautiful.” Or, “ I love your work!” Granted compliments don’t pay the bills, but spiritually I feel like a million bucks. Money is nice, commissioned work is even better. For me, the work is a gateway. My work alone may or may not inspire, heal or draw the viewer near to the Lord. What I hope for is that they will ask me,
“Where do you get your ideas?” or, “How did you get into mosaics? Why did you?” so I can tell them about the inexhaustible resource God is on so many levels.
At any given reception I only get that moment to share God and Jesus with them. It is rare to get opportunities to develop relationships with my viewers or admirers; occasionally I might connect with an interviewer or by working in a school alongside kids or teachers.
I want to add to a good teaching; a waterer, a sower of seeds, a cultivator of encouragement. If artwork is an out ward reflection of what is inside an artist, then I want my work to bring Glory to God somehow.
In the book, Captivating by John and Staci Eldridge, John explains beauty as the essence of God, and that it is essential. “Nature is not primarily functional. It is primarily beautiful. “ Which is to say beauty is in and of itself a great and glorious good. Something we need in large and daily doses. Nature at the height of its glory shouts, ' beauty is essential!' Revealing that beauty is the essence of God .
“Beauty invites, comforts, nourishes, inspires and is transcendent. " It draws us to God. In the Height of Glory, C.S. Lewis said, “ We do not merely see beauty, though God knows that is bounty enough. We want something else which can hardly be put into words- to be united with the beauty we see, to pass into it to receive it in to our selves.”
I have recently worked at an alternative school. It's the last stop in the school system for troubled teens with various learning disabilities and social issues. The instructor warned me that their frustration tolerance was extremely low. I should expect them to lose interest/focus after ten minutes. She said maybe half would actually participate in making a group effort mosaic.
I took this to the Lord and Sam and I prayed about it. Amazingly, each of the students took part in each step of the process. They were all actively involved considerably longer than ten minutes. They all worked side by side for a period of time with no physical aggression surfacing between them. Additionally, several of the students were already trying to find further applications for mosaics at the school and at home, and questioned me about expenses and supplies.
How do you measure inspiring a teenager? How can you measure their ability to dream? How can you measure the dream? I am awed that the Lord showed up. My home schooled teenage daughter assisted me through the project and became inspired herself. The staff at the school was largely impressed that so many kids were willing to work on the project together and how well it turned out.
I find it interesting that it’s an arts program being used as a last salvation for these kids. The school is continually in need of supplies and volunteers because, as an experimental project, it is funded through supplemental donations andgrants. How do you measure the value of such a program? Even if it keeps one teen from descending into the welfare system or out of jail, arts programs are sorely needed.
I myself- being unashamedly transparent- admit to a life of horrible and sinful transgressions against myself and others in lack of proper or healthy means of expression.
My mother’s one means of control over six little kids born too close together ( just ask her) was “don’t-ing.” Don’t cry, don’t yell, don’t raise your voice, and don’t do that- for the most part her message was do become non expressive. Except for a rage barely contained. It seems we were all at some shade of boiling. For her, it sometimes exploded in profanity and various degrees of yelling. I discovered, years later, she was raised much the same way and very oppressed. My beloved mother attempted suicide on more than one occasion. Fortunately she is still among the living. Clearly non-expression is unhealthy.
My father is an artist at heart. He’s been a photographer and mostly a visionary. Anything he set out to make, he would accomplish: remodel a kitchen, build a house, and start a business. He had a gift for re-telling stories and came up with wonderful new ideas. Until he ventured out on his own in a business with my brother, he was somewhat restless. In previous years he drank, I suppose in an effort to numb the pain of what could have been.
Then he caught a glimpse of what could be. He became sober and re-invented his life. My father was a wonderful seed planter. He always said if you put your mind to it, you can do it. If you can read, you can do anything. The keys to anything was in books and all one had to do was find the book that unlocked his or her future. I took him at his word.
If we want to see the extreme of what failing to express one’s true self can do , we need look no further than the late Elvis Presley. Clearly he was a man capable of many great things, but he was continually tethered to the stifling whims and limited vision of the Colonel. After a long road of self destructive behavior, it eventually cost Elvis his life.
So let me ask you: What is in you that needs to be said Expressed? What is inside that you might be afraid to let out? Are you secretly a dancer? Composer? Have you always wanted to paint? Draw? Act? I encourage you to prayerfully consider what it would take to make that happen and actively pursue it. If the Lord has put a dream in your heart, you will not have peace until you get on track with making that dream a reality. I believe that everyone has to have a long term dream and smaller dreams that come true along the way. Express yourself. Dare to dream.
JMM
We ask ourselves, who does it help?
What difference does it make if I make sculptures or Michael writes great music?
Is our discontentment with our artistic status in the journey worth the cost?
Who is affected by our disobedience/ obedience?
We are often left with no way to measure the impact of the work. Because of this, if we are using impact to gauge the success of our work, we may begin to seek the affirmation and validation of men. This incorrect focus no longer centralizes God. We may begin catering to man instead of reflecting God.
I am reminded of a story I heard several years ago…Man of faith, singing under the bridge. I’ll boil it down to it’s main components having forgotten many of the details.
A male singer was asleep in bed and awakened in the middle of the night. He thought he understood the Lord calling him to go to a certain bridge and sing Amazing Grace from beneath it. The man wrestled with the idea, thinking it ridiculous. Unable to go back to sleep, he decided to go. Who would it hurt? It was late and dark and the man sang Amazing Grace under the very bridge he had been led to. He went home, feeling like a nut I imagine, and went to bed and didn’t tell a soul.
At a future point in time, he was asked to sing at a location- I want to say a church. The man accepted the invitation. Afterward a second man came up to him and said,
"You sang Amazing Grace at the such and such bridge in the middle of the night." and gave the details of that evening. The man asked how do you know this? The second man said,
" I was on top of the bridge ready to take my life. I asked the Lord to give me some kind of sign to persuade me not to and I heard that song. I never saw you, but when I heard you sing tonite, I knew it had been you. You saved my life. " I believe the man had given his life to the Lord afterward.(Please forgive me for the loss of so many details, including the author.)
Many Christian artists may go a life time never knowing that kind of impact from their gifts. I think many artists want to be used by the Lord, but our impact is often invisible. It is not usually what motivates an artist. It may inspire them. How blessed to know it this side of heaven.
Personally, I can usually get by with an “Atta girl”, “That’s beautiful.” Or, “ I love your work!” Granted compliments don’t pay the bills, but spiritually I feel like a million bucks. Money is nice, commissioned work is even better. For me, the work is a gateway. My work alone may or may not inspire, heal or draw the viewer near to the Lord. What I hope for is that they will ask me,
“Where do you get your ideas?” or, “How did you get into mosaics? Why did you?” so I can tell them about the inexhaustible resource God is on so many levels.
At any given reception I only get that moment to share God and Jesus with them. It is rare to get opportunities to develop relationships with my viewers or admirers; occasionally I might connect with an interviewer or by working in a school alongside kids or teachers.
I want to add to a good teaching; a waterer, a sower of seeds, a cultivator of encouragement. If artwork is an out ward reflection of what is inside an artist, then I want my work to bring Glory to God somehow.
In the book, Captivating by John and Staci Eldridge, John explains beauty as the essence of God, and that it is essential. “Nature is not primarily functional. It is primarily beautiful. “ Which is to say beauty is in and of itself a great and glorious good. Something we need in large and daily doses. Nature at the height of its glory shouts, ' beauty is essential!' Revealing that beauty is the essence of God .
“Beauty invites, comforts, nourishes, inspires and is transcendent. " It draws us to God. In the Height of Glory, C.S. Lewis said, “ We do not merely see beauty, though God knows that is bounty enough. We want something else which can hardly be put into words- to be united with the beauty we see, to pass into it to receive it in to our selves.”
I have recently worked at an alternative school. It's the last stop in the school system for troubled teens with various learning disabilities and social issues. The instructor warned me that their frustration tolerance was extremely low. I should expect them to lose interest/focus after ten minutes. She said maybe half would actually participate in making a group effort mosaic.
I took this to the Lord and Sam and I prayed about it. Amazingly, each of the students took part in each step of the process. They were all actively involved considerably longer than ten minutes. They all worked side by side for a period of time with no physical aggression surfacing between them. Additionally, several of the students were already trying to find further applications for mosaics at the school and at home, and questioned me about expenses and supplies.
How do you measure inspiring a teenager? How can you measure their ability to dream? How can you measure the dream? I am awed that the Lord showed up. My home schooled teenage daughter assisted me through the project and became inspired herself. The staff at the school was largely impressed that so many kids were willing to work on the project together and how well it turned out.
I find it interesting that it’s an arts program being used as a last salvation for these kids. The school is continually in need of supplies and volunteers because, as an experimental project, it is funded through supplemental donations andgrants. How do you measure the value of such a program? Even if it keeps one teen from descending into the welfare system or out of jail, arts programs are sorely needed.
I myself- being unashamedly transparent- admit to a life of horrible and sinful transgressions against myself and others in lack of proper or healthy means of expression.
My mother’s one means of control over six little kids born too close together ( just ask her) was “don’t-ing.” Don’t cry, don’t yell, don’t raise your voice, and don’t do that- for the most part her message was do become non expressive. Except for a rage barely contained. It seems we were all at some shade of boiling. For her, it sometimes exploded in profanity and various degrees of yelling. I discovered, years later, she was raised much the same way and very oppressed. My beloved mother attempted suicide on more than one occasion. Fortunately she is still among the living. Clearly non-expression is unhealthy.
My father is an artist at heart. He’s been a photographer and mostly a visionary. Anything he set out to make, he would accomplish: remodel a kitchen, build a house, and start a business. He had a gift for re-telling stories and came up with wonderful new ideas. Until he ventured out on his own in a business with my brother, he was somewhat restless. In previous years he drank, I suppose in an effort to numb the pain of what could have been.
Then he caught a glimpse of what could be. He became sober and re-invented his life. My father was a wonderful seed planter. He always said if you put your mind to it, you can do it. If you can read, you can do anything. The keys to anything was in books and all one had to do was find the book that unlocked his or her future. I took him at his word.
If we want to see the extreme of what failing to express one’s true self can do , we need look no further than the late Elvis Presley. Clearly he was a man capable of many great things, but he was continually tethered to the stifling whims and limited vision of the Colonel. After a long road of self destructive behavior, it eventually cost Elvis his life.
So let me ask you: What is in you that needs to be said Expressed? What is inside that you might be afraid to let out? Are you secretly a dancer? Composer? Have you always wanted to paint? Draw? Act? I encourage you to prayerfully consider what it would take to make that happen and actively pursue it. If the Lord has put a dream in your heart, you will not have peace until you get on track with making that dream a reality. I believe that everyone has to have a long term dream and smaller dreams that come true along the way. Express yourself. Dare to dream.
JMM
Beautifully Broken
I had just bought a kiln and had built a wheel. I had taken a few classes in pottery but I didn't know how to run a kiln. I had things blowing up and cracking I had all this 'pottery' that wasn't any good. It was cracked, too thick too heavy and chunks would crack off in the firings and the pots would come out useless... I put the broken vessels aside.
It was around that time I started going through a really difficult season in my life. It seemed everything I had been leaning on was disappearing right before my eyes. My home group, my women's group and my marriage. I had to lean on the Lord like I never had before. I was a new Christian. Just a few years.
I had just been praying my brains out reading the word everyday and listening to a radio station that played preaching about 20 hours a day.
I was home schooling my daughter, and wasn't working outside the home. I really wanted to hear the Lord. So he could tell me what to do every minute of the day. I was such a mess. I would do one thing and say, What next Lord? He would tell me though. It went like that for a while. A couple of months.
It seemed that I could sell pottery. Here and there, enough to pay a few bills.
When I was angry, I began looking for an outlet. My daughter would leave for visits with her dad and I would smash the blown and cracked ware. After a time, that really didn't help, so I took a sledge hammer to the 'shard ware'.
It was during one of these outbursts that I felt the Lord was speaking to me. An intersecting thought- not in the flow of what I was thinking about. I was pounding on the plate that had cracked in the glaze firing.
Don't pound the shards into dust, I heard in my head. Save the best pieces.
"What? Is that the Lord?" I thought. These thought contiued for awhile.
With the good pieces you can make something new. A mosaic. If you've ever seen a mosaic, you know they are made up of thousands of pieces. That was my life in my perspective- thousands of pieces. I just began to weep. I felt like the Lord was saying that there were good parts left of my life, and with those we were going to build a new life. It would not be the life I intended, but the life He intended. It wasn't going to be my preconceived notion, but it was going to be the best parts of it saved out to make a life that glorified him.
I stayed in pottery for a long while, waiting on the Lord to show me when I would make this transition. I made a few mosaics with the blown ware just to get acclimated to the process. I was reading everything I could, to teach myself about tile and glazing and firing. I met people who inspired me and believed in me. One of my original goals was to save enough money (making pottery) to buy a slab roller to make tile, instead of rolling out miles of clay with a rolling pin. But , I barely made enough to get by.
Some wonderful folks from the church found out what I was trying to do and told me to get my list together and figure out how much I needed. They were sitting on the couch across from my friend. I remember it took a minute to sink in what they were saying.
“What, so I am going to figure out how much money I need and you are just going to write a check?” Yeah, right, I thought. That sort of thing has never happened to me. Their answer stunned me.
“Yes, that’s exactly what we’re going to do.” And they started to grin.
They wrote me a check-gave me a grant. With that money, I was able to get the slab roller. Eventually, I quit making mosaics with shard ware. I was leaving behind an old life and starting a new one. I began to realize my color palette had been reflecting my dark state of mind. After much prayer and emotional healing, I found the colors I truly enjoyed working with were the bright colors I work with today. I continued praying and asking the Lord about moving into mosaics and out of pottery. I wanted to be in his will. That was all that mattered to me. If he wanted me in pottery I would stay and be committed to it.
I felt the Lord tugging me into making pictures more and more. Additionally, I didn't see myself as a potter for life. I didn't enjoy making functional items as much as making pure art. I was a little afraid to move out of functional work and become the cliché about artists. I asked the Lord to show me where he wanted me and when.
The phone rang one day, and my friend from Project Compassion called me to tell me about a show for the Aids Task Force. She gave me the information and I called them. They were accepting artwork and they wanted to know what I thought I might donate? I had no idea. After hanging up the phone, my mind exploded with a great idea for making a 3D mosaic sculpture. I had never done anything so...well, audacious. I asked the Lord for money to complete the project, if it was in fact his idea. I woke up one morning and felt like I was to go to the hardware store and ask them for the supplies I needed.
After I was sent a letter of acceptance into the show, I went and asked for what I thought I'd need. They gave it to me! I was totally amazed. I had help making the sculpture- a table and chair. Once it was finished and ready for delivery, some friends volunteered to come and load it all and take it to the photo shoot. The intake people there were blown away. The Lady running the show just raved about it. All great. I figured the Lord had a great concept, and he allowed me to be his hands. I was blessed to be there. It was kind of strange, how clearly I knew the Lord was on this project.
After that, I was notified that the jury had accepted the piece into the Live auction. An honor of high regard. A member of the jury was from Cristy's of New York. I was impressed by that. It was said that some people had submitted to this show for years hoping to get into the live auction. I hadn't even thought about this. I just figured the Lord knew where he wanted it and it was going there. It didn't really matter to me. It never occurred to me that I wouldn’t be accepted into the show. There were two levels- silent auction and live auction. I landed in the highest category- live auction at the Columbus Museum of Art.
The auction came and went. The piece got a good chunk of money. A local gallery owner bought it. Whenever I feel the Lord tugging my heart to do a project, everything I need seems to come to me.
I had been hearing about another project that the major cities were doing. They chose a sort of 'mascot' like the cows in Chicago, and then that city's artists embellish them as they are artistically bent. I remember thinking that would be great if something like that ever came to Columbus...within a month, I had a brochure in my mailbox about the Street Corners project. Columbus's mascot was to be a six foot ear of corn. I called to ask if they would consider a mosaic. They were very excited about this.
We got everything together and our studio was able to be a part of that show as well. It too brought in a good chunk of change which went to charity, and the lady who held the event bought ours. I am not sure what the Lord will have me working on this year, but I am definitely open to his plans.
I am not really sure, either, how my work impacts people, but I enjoy creating work that people spontaneously want to touch. I think in a do not touch world, that is a plus. I feel blessed by the people I meet when working on projects. Usually they want to know why I would go to such an extreme and then donate the work. It's a chance to share the Lord in a different kind of way. To me being an artist is about being true. True to myself and my creator. I notice many times when I get inspirations, they aren't about the cross, but about beauty. I want to glorify God in the work I do- unto him- and I hold dear the verses out of Philippians 4:8-" Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable - if anything is excellent or praiseworthy- think about such things." Because it reflected in your work, and people notice.
JMM
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