Festival of Faith & Writing

My brain is filled to bursting with all that I heard and participated in at the Festival last week. I took over 25 pages of notes (and sketched many of the speakers I heard), so will only touch on a few highlights here. That’s not so easy, since it felt like one, continuous three-day highlight, but I’ll try.

For starts, it was wonderful to meet and listen to established writers whose books I’ve read and who turned out to be real people with many of the same doubts and questions and struggles as I have. Hearing about their growing process as writers has given me more confidence in my journey and more enthusiasm for pursuing writing in my areas of interest.

Eugene Peterson has been one of my favorite authors for many years. His writing draws me in so that I find it hard to put the book down, except for his writing about prayer, which is so inspiring that I drop my book frequently to spend time in prayer. His talk last week was an example of the power of personal story. He told the story of how he became a pastor and a writer, and in the process we absorbed much truth about what makes a writer and what writing is. One point he made was that we write as a conversation with our readers and we write into what we don’t know, as a way of exploring and discovering, as a way of paying attention and as an act of prayer.

Here’s a sketch I did of Eugene Peterson as we were listening to another speaker.

Sara Miles has given me much to think about and chew on, both in her book, Take This Bread, and in the two opportunities I had to hear her speak last week. One of the many things she spoke about that has me pondering is her thought about the difference between healing and cure and how there can be one without the other. Cure would be physical recovery from an affliction of some sort, whether disease or something along the lines of alcoholism or some other problem. In other words, the typical situation we want “fixed.”

Healing, as Sara Miles sees it, is bringing wholeness to individuals and communities, and it may or may not be accompanied by cure. She spoke about how diseases and other problems tend to isolate people– or rather, society tends to isolate those whom they see as sick in some way or other, viewing them as “unclean.” She reminded us of how Jesus touched the unclean when he healed them, thus bringing them into connection, even as he became unclean through touching them. She stated that healing happens in relationship and that prayer is one of the deepest forms of relationship, both with God and with other people.

I went to two talks by naturalists– Paul Willis and Kathleen Dean Moore. Paul Willis spoke about John Muir, and I really enjoyed his gentle, quiet approach. We read some selections from Muir’s journals and discussed them as a group. I think I’d enjoy taking a class taught by Willis. His manner blends well with his subject matter and promotes a contemplative attitude by example. I’ll be pondering his manner of being and speaking as much as his words.

Arielle and I attended the talk by Kathleen Dean Moore together. Moore caught our attention right from the start, when she said that her father had had a Downy Woodpecker in his freezer, as I currently have a Downy Woodpecker in my freezer. Moore spoke about having movement in a nature essay from experience and observation to exploration of meaning, from what one notices to what one questions. That was part of the pattern in Holdfast that I enjoyed so much. She said that the task of the nature writer is to awaken a sense of wonder and awe.

Leslie Leyland Fields, Jeanne Murray Walker, and Paul Willis spoke together about translating personal suffering to the shared page. One interesting point they made was that being highly rational, being highly spiritual, and using humor can all be ways of denying the reality of pain, rather than allowing our own felt, painful lives to connect with our writing. They talked about writing into our sufferings to steward the afflictions God has granted us when the time is right. Wow! What a thought. That gives a whole new perspective on suffering.

Mary Karr was the last speaker, and she was fascinating. Very honest about her life and struggles and urging us to be honest in both prayer and in writing. One thing she said was that she loves her readers and feels a conscious connection to them as she writes. That was evident in her manner as she answered questions after her talk. Her simple, straightforward way of speaking and replying to questions was motivating and gave a sense of emotional connection.

There was so much more, but that is all I can summarize now. I have much to meditate on and notes to read and reread during the coming weeks. There were quite a few other powerful speakers/talks I heard, and I need to ponder them for a while as I let them sink into me and shape me in various ways. For now, I am eager to write, but feel as though I am in a holding pattern of thinking and allowing information and patterns to develop in my mind.

Morning Has Broken…

Morning has broken
Like the first morning,
Black bird has spoken
Like the first bird.
Praise for the singing!
Praise for the morning!
Praise for them springing
Fresh from the Word!

Sweet the rain’s new fall
Sunlit from heaven,
Like the first dewfall
On the first grass.
Praise for the sweetness
Of the wet garden,
Sprung in completeness
Where His feet pass.

Mine is the sunlight!
Mine is the morning.
Born of the one light
Eden saw play!
Praise with elation,
Praise ev’ry morning,
God’s recreation
Of the newday!
(words by Eleanor Farjeon)

This is one of my favorite hymns and it has been running through my mind ever since Easter morning. The weather has been gorgeous, with early sunshine shimmering on dew-covered grass every morning when I go out to walk dogs. Birds are filling the air with song, including the Red-wing Blackbirds in our swampy area. I just love these days.

We had a delightful Easter, my favorite day of the year. We started the day with church, singing my favorite resurrection hymns and having breakfast together as a church. Then Stephen and I packed all the dogs (five of them at the moment) up in the car and headed to my parents’ farm to spend the day with my parents and my brother Alexis with his fiancee, Lina, and my brother Thaddeus with his family. Unfortunately Jennifer wasn’t able to join us, since she lives so far away. We shared stories, laughed, did some dog training, and ate a lot. My newly pierced ears were a big topic of conversation with my mother and brothers. A good day that has had me smiling every time I think of it.

Here are some journal entries and other paintings that reflect my generally happy thoughts of the past week.

A Week of Retreat in New Hampshire

I recently spent a week in New Hampshire, pet-sitting part of the time, visiting part of the time, and having a delightful mother-daughter time with Arielle for part of the time. It was a refreshing and restful week, during which I spent much of my time painting and reading. The weather was beautiful the first few days I was there, so the dogs and I spent hours outside together.

Most of the painting and drawing I did was in my sketchbook journal. Working in my sketchbook sometimes helps me be more relaxed than painting on sheets of paper, plus I love being able to look back over my sketchbook journals as a pictorial record of my days. Just like my day to day life at home (or especially when on retreat), the pages aren’t polished or even all that carefully cropped (mostly because it’s hard to get them flat for a photo). As such, my journals reflect more of me being in the moment and in a meditative frame of mind than on the go and externally focused, as I am when I’m out and about.

I always love to see other artists’ casual sketchbook pages and find them inspiring, so I figured I’d post mine here. All of these sketches were done from life with no preliminary pencil sketching. (If you click on the images, you’ll see a larger version and can read the entries.)

Petra’s Peregrinations

Petra is my live wire. Rarely tired, Petra could be on the go all day long and still look for more to do. As I type, she’s dribbling a tennis ball by bouncing it on the floor, catching it, bouncing it again, and so on. Sometimes she lies flat on her side, looking calm, but rolling a tennis ball in circles with a front paw, all the time staring at it, until apparently it suddenly needs to be grabbed, at which point she leaps to her feet and takes the ball captive.

All three of my dogs are enthusiastic about their meal times, and I love the different ways they express their eagerness for me to finish dishing out their kibble, each in a way that reflects their own personality. Rowan sits close to my right side, his nose under my elbow, as I reach into the bin to scoop up the food. His front paws dance slightly up and down and he trembles with contained energy, but he doesn’t otherwise move or make a sound. Milo dances with his whole body, leaping into the air, flipping his head and ears, and baying with uncontained excitement.

Petra peregrinates. As soon as I reach into the bin, while Rowan quivers and Milo bays, Petra trots off in the opposite direction, heading down the hall, through the living room, through the kitchen and back to me. She pauses, surveys the situation, then sets off on her circling again. In the past few weeks I’ve been saying, “Petra peregrinate!” as she starts off, and now she is starting to peregrinate on cue if I tell her to at other times during the day. There’s no good reason for the command “Peregrinate,” except that it is fun for Petra and makes me laugh. It fascinates me to see how, like Milo, Petra turns her excitement into motion, but unlike Milo, her enthusiasm is expressed in a calm and contained manner.

Petra has finished her dribbling and has moved on to practice her back spin, something she has begun working on recently. She places a front paw firmly on the ball, grabs at it with her nails, then pulls her paw back and down hard and fast, causing the ball to shoot out from under her paw, but with a strong back spin so it quickly moves back toward her, at which point she pounces on it and repeats the game.

Petra is a fun, fun dog to have around, always thinking, always ready and eager to work with me, always willing to do some problem-solving.

Painting with Jennifer

Jennifer was up in New York for our mother’s 80th birthday (we had a party for her last weekend), and yesterday Jennifer spent the day here so we could paint together. Because she lives in South Carolina we don’t see each other very often, and we always enjoy the chance to paint together. Jennifer has been painting far longer than I have and has provided inspiration and encouragement for me often since I started painting seriously. Also, our shared interest in art is one of the things that has drawn us together as adults, so it’s always a pleasure to spend a day painting together, whether attending a workshop, sketching from the car on below-freezing days, or painting a variety of subjects in a warm house. We share ideas and enthusiasm and we help each other with our paintings. Thank you, Jennifer, for a fun day yesterday!

Here are the sketches and paintings I did– no great art, but all great fun:

A quick sketch of Silver, who was sleeping in my studio

And a quickie of Bituminous, from a photo

Snowdrops from my yard

Canadian Sunset, from a photo by a friend who lives in the frozen north

Sharjah Sunrise, from a photo by Pat Southcombe who lives in the United Arab Emirates.

Sophie, a friend’s beautiful baby granddaughter

Book Review– Holdfast

I just finished reading Holdfast, by Kathleen Dean Moore, a philosophy professor and naturalist. What an interesting book! It’s a series of short (that works well for me), very engaging essays that touch on a broad range of topics, with many interesting tidbits thrown in. Two of the tidbits I especially liked were the fact that Chickadee brains actually expand in the fall as they hide seeds for winter eating and that marine mammals sleep with only half their brain at a time. I looked both up (of course) and am filled with awe about the Chickadee brains and their memories and am fascinated to learn about the way dolphins sleep.

I also liked the way the author describes her reaction to and appreciation of simple, everyday nature observations, as well as less pleasant stuff like deforestation and supposedly renewable resources, like forests that are used for logging. I have a feeling her philosophy classes might be understandable to those of us who don’t naturally think in big, philosophical words and concepts.

Interwoven with all of the essays are glimpses into her family life and who she is as a person with likes, dislikes, joys, fears, and questions, which drew me in and kept me wanting to read more and get to know her. I’ll definitely be looking up more of her books.

Kathleen Dean Moore is a presenter at the Festival of Faith and Writing at Calvin College that I’m attending next month, and I’m looking forward to hearing her speak and hope to meet her.

Musings on Very Early Spring

I lifted my eyes from my book without moving my head to watch the Chickadee alight on the log in front of me, cock his head, then straighten up and sing a few notes of Spring. He again cocked his head my way, then hopped forward to select a seed, considered a second seed, then flew off with a slight whir of his wings. A second Chickadee immediately landed and studied me, while I studied her. From 30 inches, each feather, even every barb of each feather, was clearly discernible, so small, so complete, so perfect.

I can’t quite come up with the word for how it makes me feel, but it is somehow soul-filling to be able to watch so closely. It’s the same feeling I have when I smell the fragrance of hemlock needles drenched with warm sunlight or listen to a Winter Wren warble it’s fairytale song.

Most of our yard is still covered with about four inches of snow, but the bare patches are growing daily. Yesterday I discovered a clump of snowdrops, still closed but nearly ready to open. They still weren’t quite open today, but have expanded enough that the green on the inside is now partially visible– a promise of warmth, sunshine, and the coming greening of the earth.

Musings on Mindfulness

I opened the door to let Rowan out then, as I was closing the door, I turned to head back to my desk. Out of the corner of my eye I saw stars twinkling in an inky black sky. That’s a sight I can’t resist, so I stepped outside… and heard an owl hooting from the trees at the base of our hill. That’s a sound I can’t resist, so I shut the door behind me and stood in the crisp night air, enjoying the peace and richness of the moment.

I almost missed that wonderful sight and sound because of my rush to get back to my desk work. It was good work I was doing, but it was better to take a minute to stop, observe, see, and hear what I miss more often than not, and best to use that as a reminder to be mindful for the rest of the evening.

I’ve been musing on living in a mindful manner and one key element, for me at least, is to slow down and fully live each moment, each opportunity. I’m sure it’ll be a long time, if ever, before I fully live every moment, but I hope to become more aware and slow down my rushed thoughts that try to carry me into a new activity before I’m even finished the previous one. I think that is what has to happen in order for my movements, thoughts, and words to become more conscious and imbued with grace. And that, in turn, should help me tread more lightly through life, so that I can observe without overwhelming and interact without interfering.

More Dogs

Dog on my easel
coming to life with color
I’m eager to see your face

I’m still painting dogs. I just love trying to capture on paper the feeling of connection in the expression of a devoted dog looking at his or her person. I also like to play with colors or sometimes with just one color to capture the feeling of a dog, whether looking at his person or sleeping contentedly.

Sleeping Beardie

Shaggy Dog– this is my second painting of this Shaggy Boy. I enjoy trying to get the feeling of the bright sunshine on his fur.

Here’s the start of a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel. I don’t usually start with the eye, but on this one I did. Often the eye is the last part that I paint. On this pup, though, his eye is really the focal point, so I decided to start with that.

More Dogs of Various Sorts

I’ve been enjoying painting dogs this week, both in my sketchbook and in larger paintings. I’ve also been reading several books on wolves, coyotes, and foxes; I always love learning about wild canids.

I’m still recovering from my concussion and can’t do a whole lot of any one thing before I have to either rest or switch to some activity that uses a different part of my brain. Painting seems to tire me less than pretty much anything else, so I’ve been doing a fair amount of it, especially when I need to calm my mind. I’ve been painting dogs for the past few days, but we just got 17 inches of snow and it’s still snowing hard, so I’ll probably be trying my hand at snow scenes soon.

Here’s Gomez, the sweet Basset Hound I painted a while ago. I decided to do another painting from the same photo but make a few changes in emphasis and background.

Then I painted my sweet Beagle boy, Milo. This was done using a reference photo of him lying on my lap looking up at my face. I love painting Milo and am now working on another of him using a paper with a different surface to get a different effect.

And here are some African Wild Dog or Painted Dog sketches, using Arielle’s photos from her trip to South Africa last summer. I still don’t have the proportions quite right, but I’m going to keep practicing these until I have a feel for them. As with most of my paintings, these are done with just watercolor, without sketching beforehand. I was inspired to paint these Wild Dogs both by Arielle’s photos and by a blog entry by Alison Nicholls, a watercolor artist who paints many African animals and who did a recent blog post about Painted Dogs.