Canyons and The Cornerstone by Pamela Mytroen

 

What do you do when you’re asked to write something that you might not agree with? Recently I was asked to interview an artist whose work is on display at a well known gallery. Usually, this is something I look forward to, but when I viewed her website my spirit stirred uncomfortably within me. While her subject matter is a rugged National park with surprising canyons, her message combines the tenets of two trendy religions, fraught with deception, albeit very popular and appearing innocuous.

What was I to do? I prayed much about this. It is my job to cover topics that my paper assigns me. Should I refuse this particular assignment so that I could honour Truth? I didn’t want to encourage potential viewers of her art to follow her over the cliff into a canyon of darkness. However, I also felt that I should try to cover this assignment to the best of my ability, while staying true to absolute standards.

The Lord answered quickly and clearly with four quotes I came across all within a few hours. I had missed one day of my Easter reading plan so I returned to that chapter to finish it off and this verse resonated with me: “For in Scripture it says: ‘See, I lay a stone in Zion, a chosen and precious cornerstone, and the one who trusts in him will never be put to shame” (IPeter2:6). I knew that I had to stand my ground on the foundation of Jesus. Then, whatever I wrote would be grounded on the solid rock of Truth. I would write well with respect to the paper and the craft and even if people didn’t approve of my writing, I also knew that I would never be put to shame.

But, that still didn’t solve exactly how I was to write this article. Within minutes, a little bamboo sound notified me I had email. It was a quote by Francis Schaeffer from his book, Art and the Bible. Curious, I opened it and it helped me discern how I should approach this article.  It said, “If the artist’s technical excellence is high, he is to be praised for this, even if we differ with his world view. Man must be treated fairly as man.” Aha, I could angle this piece towards the artist’s technical expertise, which was interesting and highly praised. I still had a niggle in my spirit, though.

Interestingly, I delved deeper into Schaeffer’s theory and found this gem: “As Christians, we must see that just because an artist – even a great artist -portrays a worldview in writing or on canvas, it does not mean that we should automatically accept that worldview. Good art heightens the impact of that worldview, but it does not make it true.”

I knew what I had to do.

 

That afternoon I had an appointment to interview the curator and to view the art. While technically it appeared well done (I’m not an artist but it truly was stunning), there was an aura of death about it, which even the curator pointed out. Every piece featured a skull, and most of them were painted over the scenic canyons and landscape. Impossible to miss. That was part of her message, that life dies and is reborn again as another creature.

I wrote the piece pointing out her engaging technique and the subject matter of the park. Rather than giving my opinion, which I am not really supposed to do, I  invited the the viewer to ask questions about it such as, “How many animals can you count in each scene? Do you see the cycle of life and death? What do you think of it? What message is the artist trying to portray? Do you agree or disagree? If you could ask the artist one question, what would it be?” Asking questions, I feel, gives the viewer the opportunity to think for themselves, and maintains freedom of expression for both the viewer and the artist.

That evening I picked up my novel, “Safely Home” by Randy Alcorn, and wouldn’t you know it, the chapter I read included a scene with people involved in this religion. My heart pounded and I chilled. God had heard my prayer and was pointing out the darkness and deception I am surrounded by. Although the artist is sweet, engaging, and even invited me to have tea with her, I feel that she has been deceived. It affirmed to me that I must speak truth and have nothing to do with innocent sounding lies. 

We walk along valleys of the shadow of death, but we fear no evil. I am learning to navigate these dark canyons as a writer. 

Asking questions and allowing the other person to tell their story and the reasons for their message is a good place to begin. Maybe even having tea with them. But standing firm on the Cornerstone of truth – by the grace of God -  is where I will remain.

 

Pamela Mytroen

 

In His Image by Susan Barclay

I come from a somewhat artistic family. My mom is great with her hands, using them to sew, knit and crochet, and later in life picked up a paintbrush and demonstrated some skill as an artist. Her sister is actually an artist and has painted all her life, as well as teaching others in the form. I am not a seamstress, knitter or crocheter, and dropped art after grade eight. 

There are perhaps two pieces of art I produced that I am not ashamed of: a painting of a whale that I probably did in elementary school or junior high, and a watercolour of a sunflower in a vase that I did when my aunt taught a one-night workshop in my home.

From my father’s side it would appear that I acquired a decent singing voice. I do enjoy singing and have been in both small groups and in choirs over the course of my life. I took vocal music in high school and at one point thought I would like to be a solo artist. But I knew I wasn’t sufficiently competitive, the industry was/is pretty cut-throat, and I wasn’t likely suited to it.

So here I am. It’s the writer’s life for me. God gave me a gift for words and a love of reading which goes hand-in-hand. I often think what a blessing it is that God has given many, if not all of us some form of creativity. He is the Creator, the One with the biggest imagination, and He made us in His image. Thus our creative abilities which bring us such joy.

How cool is that?

Every good present and every perfect gift comes from above, from the Father who made the sun, moon, and stars. The Father doesn’t change like the shifting shadows produced by the sun and the moon. (James 1:17, GW)

________________
Visit my website, www.susanbarclay.wordpress.com
for more about me and my writing 

Art Appreciation by Marnie Pohlmann

“Those who can do; those who can't, teach.” – George Bernard Shaw

Let me add that those who can’t teach appreciate.

I am a writer, but I try my hand at many creative endeavors – only to find out I am not

a musician,

an artist,

a dancer,

a performer,

a gardener,

a sewer,

a decorator;

and I am not even very crafty.

However, I appreciate the creativity that surrounds us. As a teen I fell asleep to Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake and watched my Dad and brothers perform in Gilbert & Sullivan operettas. I have enjoyed Shakespeare at the Avon Theater in Stratford, Ontario and on the banks of the Saskatchewan River. I learned to read basic music. I have acted in skits. I learned to garden, somewhat. I have sewn simple items and chosen the colours and furniture for our home. When it comes to art, I feel like "a jack of all trades, master of none."

I have supplies for many creative arts. Cross-stitch, quilting, crocheting, stamping, card-making, colouring books… the list goes on and on. These supplies are loaned out more than used, and piled in totes, seldom touched by me as life elbows them out of the way.

I do find creative ways to live everyday life, though. Pretty napkins are added to the dining table. Fun pictures make announcements at church. Beautiful photograph backgrounds, some my own, contribute to worship song presentations and my blogs.

My soul is fed and my writing improved by seeing, hearing, and moving among the creativity around me. I cheer on friends and family as they draw, paint, or sew. Today as I write on my deck, wild fescue is dancing with the breeze in the empty lot beside my home. Chickadees are singing praise for God’s supply at the bird feeder. My sister-in-law (she really is the best) is painting our garden planter that is growing lettuce, dill, and herbs.

I have found, even when storms rage and crash on the shores of life, the magnificent imaginative power of God is evident. All around me life continually births anew, strengthening and inspiring my own God-gift of creativity.

Marnie blogs at Phosphorescent

A Little of This and a Bit of That - Tracy Krauss

In case you missed it, here is this month's theme and prompt: (And I want to give a shout out to Sandi Somers for these wonderfully creative prompts each month.)

"Do you ever wonder what other writers do when they’re not writing? Some of the most accomplished and prolific writers don’t sit at their computers all day. Take Madeline L’Engle, who refreshed herself as she played the piano. Or take our InScribe blog moderator, Tracy Krauss, who loves quilting and drama. Sally Meadows is a singer/songwriter, and Jan Cox is an artist. (I could go on…)"

"Prompt: Tell us about your other art form. It can be something in the range of fine arts, or it can be an artistic garden, woodworking project or creative activities with your children. Can you find a larger meaning for your creativity and the Holy Spirit’s inspiration to you?"

_____________________

"Fall Splendour"

As it said in the prompt, I do like quilting and drama, although I haven't done much quilting in the past few years because of eye trouble. (It is too difficult to thread my needle. One of these days I'm going to invest in a self threading machine, but until then...) I have several pages on my blog dedicated to various creative pursuits. To see each one, click the links: 

My quilting page.

Drama on the other hand takes up a lot of my time since it is one of the subjects I teach at the secondary school level. In fact, this very day - June 15 - my students are performing twice - once in the afternoon for the entire school population and once in the evening for the public. They just finished two performances yesterday as well, so tonight is closing night. I put a lot of heart and soul into my 'kids', as I call them. We do two major shows per year and spend pretty much ten out of twelve months rehearsing. I often write the plays but this year we chose two scripts that were already published: Knights of the Rad Table by Pat Lydersen and And Then There Was One by Michael Druce. The first is a King Arthur parody and the second a spoof on an Agatha Christie murder mystery. Super fun... super exhausting... 

My drama page. 

scene from my play  'Mutiny On Mt Olympus'

part of a series I did for Christmas gifts

My first artistic love, however, was drawing. I filled sketchbook upon sketchbook as a child and I went on to study Fine Art at university, getting my degree in Art Education. I still teach Secondary School Art and enjoy it as much as teaching Drama, and I still love to paint and draw in my 'spare' time... (Spare time? That concept is actually laughable!) I do try to enter at least one piece in our regional juried art show each year.  

My Art page.

in my Art classroom

I lead worship at our church and find that playing the piano, especially worship songs, is a wonderful stress reliever. It is probably my best go-to activity when I just need to decompress. I have a piano at home, but I love to go over to the church when no one else is there and play the grand piano. It is very cathartic and I find it brings a lot of clarity, which is logical since it is really just another way to worship and connect with God on a one-on-one basis. No music page. (*smile*)

After reading the other posts this month, I am impressed with what a truly diverse and artistic bunch we are. It makes sense that writers, who are some of the most inventive people around, would also be creative in other areas as well. 

Tracy's Website

Pencil Doodles, Photos, and Piano by Brenda Leyland

In response to our June prompt, I'm delighted to share what other creative work I currently do when I'm not writing.

Pencil Doodling. Pencils make me want to doodle. No piece of paper is safe from the irresistible urge of forming alphabet letters in various calligraphic styles, creating flower petals, sprigs and posies. I want to draw cozy teapots with fat round lids and stacks of colouring book style teacups. Even the odd fashion design, especially dresses with billowy skirts from the 1950s.

"The imagination needs noodling --

long, inefficient, happy idling, dawdling and puttering.

 ~ Brenda Ueland, "If You Want To Write"

About a year ago, I finally bought a sketch book. That simple gesture seemed to give acknowledgement to this doodling desire that never goes away. If I'm going to doodle then why not acknowledge its value in my life and give it space. Now I doodle and sketch. I sketch to improve my observation of the world around me. I doodle to relax. It's fun, comforting, restful. Something pressured writers could experience more often.

"Lord, give me an open heart to find You everywhere,

to glimpse the heaven enfolded in a bud,

and experience eternity in the smallest act of love."

~ Mother Teresa

Photography. When I'm not noodling over a doodle, you might find me out and about with my iPhone camera capturing glimpses of creation's beauty. Sunsets and storm clouds. Pansies and feathered friends. Rainbows, spider webs glistening with raindrops, red berries, and autumn leaves. Did I mention flowers ...  and gardens and garden gates?

In the past, I would never have considered photography as a creative pursuit. As in, please don't make me fiddle around with lens, fancy light, and sets -- that all makes me feel jittery inside. But my iPhone camera is a gem. It allows me to take photos with the greatest of ease, simplicity, and to my great delight, with surprising results.

I fell in love with taking pictures, and now I look for opportunities everywhere for something lovely, interesting, or even what might not at first glance seem significant in any way. For one never knows when, after cropping away the extraneous, you find yourself looking at a real gem of a picture. Waiting for you to share in blog posts, on social media, with loved ones, or in digital-to-print books created on Shutterfly.

Photography is the story I fail to put into words.

~ Destin Sparks

To me, photography is an art of observation. It's about finding something interesting in an ordinary place... I've found it has little to do with the things you see and everything to do with the way you see them. Elliott Erwitt
Read more at: http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/photography.html

 
The Piano.  The piano is a lifelong love. These days I often switch from writing on my computer keyboard to playing on my piano. On any given day, if you walk up to my front door, you'll probably hear the faint strains of piano music wafting through the air. I might be patiently working, bar by bar, on a longtime-dream to master Chopin's sweetly pensive Etude in E Major. Or, I could be pounding out some lively jazz piece that makes my fingers dance.

Or, I could be creating a new piece of music. Or improvising. Which sets me free from reading notes and lets me play from my heart. There is a psalm that invites us to sing new songs unto the Lord. I love the idea of playing new melodies to Him when I feel the creative stirrings of the spirit (mine and His).

I'm currently working on a reflective piece that came to me years ago. Having never forgotten it, I often play it when the mood of the heart is right and I feel His presence. A few months ago, when I told my music instructor about it, she said, let's get it written into sheet music. What fun -- it's writing of a completely different note (wink).

 

"Prayer is when you talk to God. Meditation is when you're listening.

Playing the piano allows you to do both at the same time."

~ Kelsey Grammer

To include one or more art form in our lives can add so much to our overall sense of well-being and our joyful response to life's good gifts. We were born to create and when we create good things happen to our minds, our emotions, and even our bodies. The array of art forms available to us not only adds interest, variety, and depth to our personal life experience, but these various disciplines use different parts of the brain (that has to be good), and I've found what I learn in one field often comes in handy in another.

I've never seen myself as a serious artist, but I have come to recognize -- and to honour --  the creative bent the Lord has placed within me. Finding different ways to express who I am, who I am growing into, enriches my own soul and stretches my mind as I embrace new ideas, tools, techniques, and skills. All of which helps me become a better, more engaging writer. That has to be good too.
 

Brenda Leyland enjoys writing on her slice-of-life blog at It's A Beautiful Life -- it's one place where she shares her many 'glimpses of heaven in unexpected places'. She continues to work at various other writing projects.

Note: (c) Above photos by Brenda.


 

Paint and Pen - by Linda Aleta Tame

The breathings of my heart are included in the pages of my journals.  My personal struggles in life and relationships, and my spiritual growing pains are recorded there, along with new revelations, joys and praises to the Lord.  I've decided to share a few excerpts from entries in my journals. Today, a little breeze has taken my heart's breath and brought it here to you.


September 7, 1990

I have often tried to paint pictures, but somehow I want more meaning in them. I want to express you Father - but how do you paint love?  How do you paint truth or wisdom or faith?  Something happened to me yesterday afternoon.  I visited the art gallery and was profoundly affected by the works of aboriginal artist, Colleen Cutschall.  The exhibition was called, "Voice in the Blood," and her pieces used symbolism and imagery to express her native spirituality.  I thought, "I want to paint my faith."  Then in the evening I went to hear a travelling minister. We sang "Sweet, Sweet Anointing," and I desired you so much Lord.  

The speaker began to prophecy to individuals.  For me, he said, "You see things in pictures.  Anyone can see a picture of Moses with his staff parting the Red Sea, but you see truth in pictures.  God is going to show you how to draw and paint pictures of spiritual things, so others might see."  So, Father, my heart, hands, head are submitted to you for your glory.  In Jesus name, Amen.

Wednesday, November 22, 2006 - Jerusalem

Entry to the Museum of Psalms 

I visited the Museum of Psalms today.  Oh...oh....oh!  As I was viewing the first painting, an elderly Jewish man asked if I would like some explanation about the paintings.  I eagerly welcomed his help.  He spoke with so much wisdom and love concerning the painting.  I asked if all 150 paintings of the 150 Psalms had been created by one artist.  He nodded.  He went on to explain the meaning behind the colours and the Hebrew letters visible throughout the piece.  Then he motioned to other paintings around the room on the walls and even on the ceiling.



He said, "And somehow I painted these by accident," and he gave a slight smile. I asked if I'd heard him correctly.  He lowered his eyes and nodded.  Then our eyes met, and I was overwhelmed by the beauty and the depth of the Spirit that HAD to be in this man to create the Word on canvas the way he had done.  I was unable to contain my tears, though I didn't try that hard.  I wanted to cry.  I wanted to feel and sense the magnitude of the moment.  He saw my emotion and said, "I understand.  This can be emotional.  Take a little time to sit or view alone."  The tears just kept coming.  The Lord gave me a word in 1990 that I would someday paint my faith.

November 25, 2006 - Jerusalem

Yesterday I went back to the Museum of Psalms.  Moshe Tzvi Berger was glad to see me and invited me to sit on the small love seat across from his desk in the reception area.  Then began a lovely conversation about his life and his reasons for painting.  He spoke about his desire to share the loving kindness of God, whom he referred to as HaShem (The Name).   He said his art speaks of HaShem's loving kindness.

Psalm 146 - Hallelujah!  Praise, O my soul the Eternal.

I said I wished I lived in Israel, so I could learn more from Moshe.  I knew he could teach me so much.

"I am not a teacher," he said.  "I am an artist, and that's a different profession," but I had to wonder.

"Today I learned more things I needed to know, just by sitting with you awhile."  I wanted to understand the heart of the creator of these masterpiece paintings.

Then he said, "More important than anything else - more important than art - more important than anything - is love.  Without love, all else is useless.  You must love your husband first, then your children, your family, and then others. When you love your husband, children, others, you show your love for HaShem.  This is the one thing you MUST remember of all I've said today."
                      ________________________________________________________

A journal is an incredible source for writing inspiration, and for faith building!  The breathings of the heart in a journal are acts of writing, and that's what writers want to do!

Here Comes the Son  2014
12 x 16 Oil on Canvas -
Linda Aleta Tame

View a video about the Museum of Psalms on Youtube.

An Artist Writes - Tracy Krauss

winter lanscape

I didn't always consider myself a writer. My first creative love was drawing. I have very vivid memories of sitting with my nose to the paper, content to create my picture stories. It didn't take much to make me happy. I was rarely bored because there was always drawing to be done. A pad of paper was my favourite gift, and I'm sure I got at least one every birthday and Christmas. Good thing, too, because I filled them all. 

Back then I didn't realize that I wasn't just drawing pictures. My drawings were mostly of interesting characters that I had made up. They came with elaborate backstories and participated in all kinds of adventures. Of course, it was difficult to draw each and every scene, but that was okay. I had the stories in my head, and drawing portions of them was a wonderful creative outlet.

Writing came easily for me once I got to school, but it never replaced my love of art. I wrote my first play when I was in Grade Four and convinced my friends to rehearse at recess time. Our teacher saw us practicing and arranged for us to perform the play in front of the entire school. Several years later, my English 12 teacher suggested I attend a summer school for budding writers because he felt my writing held promise. I wasn't really interested. I wanted to focus on my visual art instead.

portrait

I majored in Fine Art at University and after I graduated, I tried to make money with my art. I made prints of some of my more successful pieces and went to every craft fair and art show I could. I also did a fair bit of commission work in those days - portraits, architectural drawings, and even commercial signage. Even then, there was no way to actually make a living with my art.

By that time I was married and expecting our first child. We lived in a very small house and there was no place to set up my art supplies where I could leave them from one day to the next. Once the baby came along, I was lucky if I could spare a few hours each afternoon for something creative while she napped. Inevitably, she would wake at a most inconvenient time in the painting's progress. Trying to pursue my artistic dreams became more of a frustration than an outlet. I was tired of setting up and cleaning up with very little art - or satisfaction - to show for it. 

At about that same time I borrowed my mother's old typewriter. If I couldn't paint, perhaps writing one of the many stories in my head would be a good alternative. I sat at the kitchen table and began pounding away. Almost from the start, the words began to flow. (Surprisingly the clacking never woke the baby!) This new creative outlet was simple to set up, there was virtually no clean up, and I began to feel a deep sense of satisfaction after each writing session. Thus began a love affair with writing that has lasted for almost thirty years. (My daughter will be thirty this summer.) 

I'd like to say that it was at that moment that I 'knew' I was a writer. It wasn't quite that simple, though. I was almost ashamed of my writing obsession and no one beyond my immediate family knew anything about it for many years. I just didn't know anyone else who loved to write the way I did, and there was no internet back then to connect with like minded people. It's one of the reasons I find Inscribe so invaluable. It has been a safe and encouraging place for me to connect with people just like me. 

I still love art, and I still paint and draw. The visual arts will always be my first love, even though it has taken a back seat to my writing. As I write this blog post, I am preparing a piece for submission to a regional art exhibit that is coming up in May. The piece is called 'Veil of Tears' and I am quite happy with the way it turned out. 

My 'Eureka' moment as a writer came through the backdoor of a different artistic pursuit. In my mind, however, writing is still art. So I suppose one could say that my aspirations have never really changed. I'm just using a different canvas.  


Tracy Krauss is an author, artist, and playwright living and teaching in Tumbler Ridge, BC. Visit her website for more: tracykrauss.com

Epiphany in Infancy by Connie Inglis

                          (The Adoration of the Magi by Jacob Jordaens)

Epiphany: (Oxford Dictionary)
1. The manifestation of Christ to the Gentiles as represented by the Magi.
2. A moment of sudden and great revelation or realization.

I do not think it coincidental that these are the two definitions of the word epiphany. I see them as  related. The Great Revelation of Christ to the magi--that "magical" awareness 2000+ years ago that this infant was God in human form--is not difficult to connect to that same "magical" realization that happens for us in a moment of epiphany. I believe it to be a Holy Spirit-driven awareness, an awareness that is not exclusive but inclusive. That's why I like Jordaen's version of this event--it is not just the magi that are there, but the simple townsfolk, people like me, who are there too, taking in that epiphanic moment.
 
The greatest epiphany in my life came when I tasted God's love and turned my life over to Jesus. Since then I have had a number of epiphanic moments in my faith walk. In my writing, however, there was no sudden burst of awareness but a subtle drawing to a desire.  My epiphanic moment arrived in infancy and has grown over time.

I shared in a previous post that I first started writing when I was nine or ten years old. I was working on a science fiction story, complete with illustrations, when one day I came home to find my mom had accidentally thrown away all my work that I had kept hidden in a manila envelope in the closet. I was devastated and sad and my pen remained silent for the next 35 years (Other than inconsistent journaling). And just like Jesus' birth came at a time in Jewish history when God had been silent, so my moment of inspiration came at a time when God seemed far away and I was in need of some encouragement. Surprisingly, the words flowed with ease and spilled out on to the page.

It was early 2006--the year our firstborn would be graduating from high school, returning to Canada and going on to secondary education while the rest of us remained in Thailand. It was a time of uncertainty for us as parents and yes, fear. But it was also a time when all three of our children were coming into their own, particularly with their giftedness in art: our daughters in fine art, our son in graphic art (Art on left by daughters Mykal and Kendra). It took me back to my childhood and my love for writing and art. The creativity I thought I had lost but now saw in my children, pulled me back into its realm. I was inspired or, as Madeleine L'Engle puts it, "in-spirited." It truly was Spirit-driven in its infancy. And God has kept me there, quietly helping me develop in it ever since. My epiphany i.e. His epiphany, came in the form of the following poem, a poem dedicated to my children:

THE ARTIST

The artist’s eye

            --seeing the unseen

Dip. Stroke.

Turning on the

            Light bending a brush with 1,000 colours—

            to a cataract world.

Gray-scale becomes

azure, magenta, chartreuse.

The artist’s ear

            --hearing the still, small Voice

Weave. Blot.

A single ink dot meaningless,

            but corporately—masterfully

            fortissimo to a deafened world.

Muffled becomes

pure yellow, blue, red.

The artist’s touch

            --molding the Supra-dimensional

Fire. Bisque. Fire.

A lump spinning on a wheel,

            driven emotion takes form through

            unique fingerprints—controlled strength.

Dull clod becomes

smooth, lustrous, unblemished.

The artist

            Creator-charged—

breathes life into the medium

and takes your breath away.