Thought for The Day - My Extended Hands

I'm Listening 24 x32 Oils

It's my hope that, when needed, my words are heard and felt by you. It's my desire to soothe and ease your journey through life. It is my hope that the words written and images bring healing and a sense of wholeness to you.

I write because I can; because words contain healing. My words are an extension of my desire to see people enjoy this "thing" called life. We live in a world of conflict and at the very least, difficulty. From day-to-day, people move about either oblivious to one another or indifferent. I understand, I get it. When there is so much abuse and misunderstanding, finding genuine connections are rare. Well, take this as my genuine offer to you.

Each day, I think of those who are reading this and many I may never know. I may not receive recognition from you and to a certain extent, it's okay. The intention is to stir your thoughts, your feelings and allow God's presence to do the work I can only imagine. Open your heart to healing; to a life without limits!

Thought for The Day - Words and Images

Study for Predawn Light - 18 x 24 charcoal and pencil

Of a Feather - 18 x 24 pastels

The Seed - 12 x 18 - pastels

I've wondered how long it would take to get to this message. Well here I am; and here it is.

The title of a song, a poem, a painting or a car. Images and words, words and images. Words convey an imagery, a thought and feeling without imagery; images, rendered with or without intent, can speak volumes. In a "concrete" world, full of facts and statistics, lazy reasoning rules. Beaten down by cultural norms and the words "no" and "don't," we choose a life as herded cattle, following the cow path to and from home.

Every now and then, we allow a word, an image or both to rattle our cage. It doesn't have to be a speech or orchestrated rendition via a fine soprano voice. No, every now and then, the voice of a child, reading our worried expression, breaks through our London-fog, shines pure light on us and awakens the divinity languishing beneath our flesh. We only need a moment, often we only alow singular events anyway. But our world is altered ever so slightly by words and images.

Have you ever received a drawing from a small child and rather than ask "what is it," simply said "oh this is nice!" Children know intent; they instinctively know the connection between lines, colors and their identity. It's only when we force rules and names, that they forget the truth. But we can all stand to re-enter the school of words and images.

Allow the light to shine in you.

Thought for The Day - The Grind

Expectation

It comes to this more days than not; the grind is felt in our gut, like someone is slowly pulling a heavy chain through your navel. Or it's a headache, out of the blue, gripping your head like a medieval tool of torture. Too often, we are concerned about relieving the pain, but the root of it remains untouched.

Sleepless nights, yelling at your children or spouse or whoever seems weak enough to take it without giving it back to you, that's our problem, or the result of it. Like trying to rub our filth off on a useless towel, except our loved ones aren't useless, just loving and very forgiving.

Time in, and time out, we go from one hardship to another, skimming the surface, trying to wipe away symptoms while the underlying cause languishes. It doesn't rest, hence the unease and disease we suffer.

How well we search outside for a solution, trying oval remedies, amber elixirs and the eternal fountain of youth; that only shifts the pain elsewhere.

But...

The wise person chooses not to point the finger at others or collapse in despair, though both attempts seem viable. They learn to dig, to uproot and recall. They remember times where the day was not filled with doubt and overwhelming fear. They search childhood or moments of clarity when an idea or dream was more logical than reality. And they begin a journey to change reality. They work at it as if it were their daily grind, slowly reshaping life to be what is desired.

Evaluating His Words

I am constantly challenged with three things: perception of self (how objective can a person be when every thought and feeling is known?), the reaction to the words written and images displayed, and the possibilities. If you haven’t figured this out yet, I have a strong desire to get a message out in the world. Somewhere between ‘who is my audience’ and ‘who ever will,’ I spend many days with thoughts whirling around like a tornado.

Who am I? Where do I fit in all of this? Does what I have to express add value or detract from the world?

Then there’s the reaction. From the first pictures placed on Facebook until this blog, the effort contained the air of experimenting; I’ve always wanted to see what an audience beyond my wife and children would think. As long as I anticipated the worst, my gifts lay under lock-and-key. But it is the ‘trying’ and assurance that somewhere, there’s someone who will ‘get it.’ Thanks for the many people who listen; your ‘thumbs up’ or comments assure me there is an audience for my voice.

At some point, I will have these plates spinning on top of the sticks. Those who value my work, the words and the images, will find a need to make a purchase or two. But until that time, I continue to evaluate, to publish and declare His Words!!!

Minding the By-products

I can waste significant energy ‘wishing’ for the Limousine Life, pining for a big home and waiting to be famous, but this portion of my journey is helping hone my energy for greater disciplines. His Words remains a vital part of my life though, if I had thought of the enterprise a year ago I would have quickly dismissed the notion or made it something like a business name for counseling services somewhere in the future.

Yes, I want a beautiful home and driving many on the way to work I have often thought it would be great to live in ‘this one’ or ‘that one.’ But there is a dream home and a land that I don’t see in my travels and yet it exists. There’s that stretched Bentley in a paved driveway, both belonging to me. And when I remind myself of it, I remember dreams I’ve had in the past that came to pass and I barely lifted a finger to bring them about. But for the time being, my energy isn’t allocated to what others will think when I’m riding in a limo or how I will have to guard my life against jealousy. No, it is better used to perfect the message. I am using my energy to ensure it is clear and more importantly, that ‘those who will’ receive are reached.

My message is about stirring a person’s soul. Often we “light” others with the essence of our person. Who am I what am I reflecting? What remains consistent in my life that helps me understand better who I am? Well, this is another journey of discovery and because it is so vitally important I’m turning my targets within and putting greater emphasis on knowing who I am. For the time, I’ll let the by-products of a life of service to sit in reserve. I’ll concentrate on “shoring up” my service to others.

When I reflect light, I will know who I am and the purpose for which I’m sent. Peace and blessings!

More Experimenting

Just trying out different things with pastels.

Experimenting...What is it 2

Still just trying out things. The clouds were originally the focus but had to have another place to focus attention. I may do one later where it is 90% clouds and sky and 10% bluffs.

Experimenting...What is it?

Okay, I'm just trying things out. If you figure out, don't read too much into it. This has no meaning, hidden message or design. Just trying things out.

Life Lessons

Trying out this thing called life. Throwing into words and images. His Words. His Images, the smells, sounds and silence of it all. It (life) isn't final; seems so obvious, but I know what's it like to think "I failed at _____" and think it's over.

Man, I tried "His Words," in 2001, feeling like I wanted to do 'art' and 'words,' somehow. That 'somehow' was a 25 pound blob of clay I left set out for others to shape. Big mistake!!! But life goes on and that is the greatest lesson. What seems like failure is the seed of success. One person was buried, and all assumed his life's mission came to a close. But here we are so many years later, calendars rearranged around his estimated birth, days set aside to celebrate his birth, death and resurrection. Whether you agree, accept or understand 'that' you certainly understand that life does not come to an end when you fail! You have to get up, you have to keep living and if you have an inkling of life in you, you know what you'll do? YOU WILL TRY AGAIN! And again! And again! You will not allow the life in you and around to forget your place in it. You will continue trying until you're heard, seen, until your dance and your song is sang with such force, that it seems the heavens and earth tremble!

Learn the lessons, live the lessons, teach, preach, sing, dance and paint the lessons!!!

The Exercise of Art

I remember sitting in a cube a few years ago, frustrated beyond belief, feeling like my life didn’t count for much (His Words was on a hiatus and as far as I was concerned it was a mistake never to be repeated). And I wrote in all caps I WANT TO MAKE A DIFFERENCE!!! Even bolded each word and increased the font size to 24 for emphasis. I needed to make that declaration and if I weren’t such a “proper” gentleman, I would have stood on the top of the desk and screamed it.

What I’ve discovered about painting and drawing is the process and results are like doorways of light. Light illuminates and places emphasis on a subject. Reflecting art over the years, some seemed to speak of chaos or imply a world barely distinguishable. Where I’m employed, there’s no shortage of original artwork and many people have opinions one way or another. What seems to be consistent among those I work with is the expectation that images should be clearly identified; they don’t want to see something that looks like it was done by a 6 year old. But what I know of the exercise, is art reveals what a ‘simple’ mind understands. Not a simple or foolish person but one willing to open their mind to messages not easily discerned. Those are the messages accepted by faith. And faith has a wonderful capability of opening a limitless unclouded world to the faithful!

A few paintings I’ve worked on in the last few months emphasize the contrast of dark vs. light. It is another theme that is being detailed in my life and with time, patience and diligence I will understand it better. I’m sitting here at the moment looking at a blank sheet of newsprint paper. What a wonderful sight! I see so much that the human eye will not and each page allows the same possibilities. It is an exercise in capturing a moment or rendering colors with textures. But more importantly, it is communicating the message of one’s soul.

Definition of His Words

His Words is about “expression.” But the title is greater than mere expression, as I have come to understand. First of all, I continue to fathom the depths of the title. It definitely feels bigger than my conscious mind can understand. Years ago I had this big idea to produce greeting cards to use as encouragement. I got the idea after I was encouraged, reading simple poems with watercolor images in a booklet. I was going through a tough time and praying and crying like crazy. But those simple words and the images lifted my spirits like nothing else!

So reflecting on that time, having begun to write a bit, I thought of what I could say to lift other’s spirits. The missing part was the images; I could not, at the time, imagine getting back to art. Well here I am; I am drawing and painting and choosing to believe the title given to me at the time, is a viable one.

His Words, for the time is about artful expression. Encouragement, hope, and making whole a world that is broken, shattered is my desire. It’s a continuous process and so is the defining of his words. Think “Blank Page” or a blank canvas. That is His Words, today.

It's a Matter of Choice

I know we all make choices but I’m not sure we realize the impact a choice has on our lives. This year, I made a choice to evaluate my life and take an honest look at my feelings, expectations, the “who,” “what” and “where” of it. I begin this year in a career counseling course, part of the required courses for a person seeking a masters degree in Community Counseling. Two years prior, I made a decision that counseling was a big part of my daily tasks, though in my current career I’m a software tester. As long as I can remember, people seemed to find me, seek either advice, or a listening ear. And it has always felt strange because I never perceived myself as the classic ‘outgoing’ person. At best quiet, I wear a constant scowl (it feels like it to me) and I’m never in the middle of the crowd, but somehow, one or two people seemed to make their way to me and strike up a conversation. Conversation always lead to further discussions, especially when we share a common place. To shorten my life story, it just seemed right to move down that career path.

This year, realizing each time there was a break between semesters, I wondered should I continue down this path, I decided to ask myself a hard question: is this what I want to do for the remainder of my life. The answer was usually 'no,' especially when I thought of being in a typical crowded, busy, 'administrative heavy' counseling position. It seemed insane! As I mentioned, I began the year in a career counseling class. Knowing one of the tools used in career counseling are the many assessments, I felt before entering the class, I needed to dig up two assessments I took in 2005. I would think about it, consider it, half-heartedly look for them, but quickly get frustrated because my house (life) was a wreck! And without looking ‘it’ popped up; both assessments sort of surfaced while looking for other things. I sat and looked at them; the Meyers-Brigg and the Strong’s Inventory of skills. Both said what I knew in my heart: that I should be doing art. At best counseling was third on the Meyers-Briggs along with some type of encouraging, admonishing related tasks.

A strange thing happened on quite a few occasions in the career class. The teacher would struggle with computer or audio-visual components of a presentation. Though initially reluctant to help (not wanting to appear as a ‘kiss-up’) I jumped up and helped anyway. A few of the students jokingly called me “Super Eddie,” or said something like “Eddie can do anything.” I realized many times I got excited about the concepts learned in the class or more excited about the possibility of people finding work they love to do. I am frequently discouraged by the impression people have to ‘flop about’ in one career or another. A crack in my shell had appeared.

My classmates’ comments sunk in deeper than I first imagined. Simultaneously, I was taking on challenges in my work environment and also gaining success there as well. But the path wasn’t free of potholes and chunks of debris. I still needed to look down the path of classes to be taken. The summer looked bleak as far as courses were concerned and for all I accomplished on the job, the ‘key’ people who needed to applaud and support my successes didn’t seem to care. Disappointment set in; I realized it could take another year before starting an internship and more than likely, all my hard work and ingenuity would be canceled by a job environment intent on mediocrity. I hung my head, almost in utter despair!

But my despair was not meant to permanently disillusion me; a Grand Plan was in the works! In looking down, I looked inward. What had I been doing all this time, all these years? I knew “corporate America” was not for me. I knew this back in 1979 when I took a part-time job as a stock clerk at Sears. Even then, I was planning for retirement, looking forward to the day I would never have to darken the door of anyone’s office or store as an employee. And in this desperate moment, I remembered what brought joy as a child, a teen and as a young adult: ART.

Springtime, the rebirth of all things growing and beautiful. And it felt as if I was coming out of the winter of my life. A canvas purchased months ago, still wrapped in cellophane began to look like a solution and a ray of light. Paints that somehow remained moist and usable and an old art ‘tackle box’ miraculously appeared. Sketch pads purchased over the years, but never used with any sense of purpose, were carried in the car, and brought our for lunches taken in the forest preserve. There I could relax, draw and sketch leisurely, no ‘projected timeline,’ or expectation placed on the effort. There, I could just move the pencil along the paper, hear the scratch of graphite mingling with paper and allow my hand and eye to rediscover one another. And in my heart, I begin to awake again.

ALL WORK IS HONORABLE

There was a time when I couldn’t say that. “Work” was the “bitter pill” to swallow and in a culture that focuses on weekends, vacations, holidays and retirement, the honorable message is buried. Sure, we’re encouraged to be successful at our careers, work effectively and strive for advancement, but the constant mantra heard is “Thank God it’s Friday” and “I hate Mondays.” Lord knows I’ve said them both for a long time!

A few years ago, I got this crazy notion: why can’t work be enjoyable? I didn’t get a quick response, but I continued asking the question. I remember one afternoon, I had business to handle in the near north area of Chicago’s loop area. Taking a cab over, when I got in the area, I was amazed at the expressions on the people’s faces. Nearly everyone seemed to be relaxed, unhurried, shopping and taking in the sunshine. And hear I was, watching my watch, trying to account for every minute and avoid going over my lunchtime. My impression of these people was they all had money; they had to be “trust fund” babies because they didn’t have my attitude and the rushed, anxious appearance of people just 5 blocks south. But on many occasions, I ran into people like this. Midday, mid-morning, afternoon, there are people out, shopping and some are working, and they look like they don’t have a care in the world. Why couldn’t I have that?

It’s recently that I have come to believe all work is honorable. But the statement begs completion: not all work is appropriate for everyone. A biblical principle spelled out in 1 Corinthians 12: 14, says, “The body is not made up of one part but of many.” It goes on to give the illustration of a foot saying “because I’m not the hand, I’m not part of the body.” So it is with us. We all have roles and a position. Take my word for it, I have tried on many roles and some of them weren’t a good fit. Until recently, I was determined to be a degreed, licensed counselor. I may still counsel, but I can tell you, there is no more honorable task for me than painting and writing. You see I have found a way to live like those people I saw in the near north side of Chicago. It begins with knowing myself and that leads to expending energy appropriately.

Before I get deeply profound, I must say this has been a long journey around a mountain. I’ve known most of my life I should be doing art, but I did everything else. It wasn’t until I faced me, stopped ‘me’ in my tracks and asked, “What are you doing?” I mean it was an honest question with a huge expectation of a response. I came to the conclusion that nothing else for me mattered. I will not stop being a husband, father, brother, minister, teacher or counselor. But nothing else ‘works’ without the center, the critical link for all. Giving in to the “artist’s life” is one of the most significant decisions I’ve made in my life.

Suggestion? Think back to your childhood, when you played in a yard, playground, with friends or alone. Remember the role you thought you were; maybe you were a doctor or dancer or singer. It didn’t matter if you were good or bad at it, it was what you did and who you were. In my opinion, it’s time to let the kid out to play again. Everything else is a misfit; everything else is work without honor. Peace!

Tabula Rasa

Tabula Rasa
Originally uploaded by Hudson Gallery

"Clean Slate" - I think this happens more than we're wiling to admit. I think it happens more often than the beginning of the day as many believe, is the start of new opportunities. Have you ever taken a deep breath, sighed or hesitated before one of "those" events? You know, one of those things that happens everyday. The types of things that happen at work or when you mistakenly drift into oncoming traffic concentrating on the last mishap. A clean slate, an opportunity to begin again, approach the next event with a fresh perspective. A chance to stamp "CANCEL" across the pain of the latest disappointment. A Clean Slate.

A Blank Page

Quite a few years ago I discovered I could write. Writing wasn’t my major in college and though I wriinge ‘theme’ and ‘term’ papers was part of school years, it wasn’t necessarily what I wanted to do. So when ideas for stories and poems begin to flow, it was a surprise. One of my earlier writings and one that epitomizes the creative process for me was the “A Blank Page.” Here's the poem:

I sit,
Watching the blank page
And its vast starkness tell stories.
Images take shape
Men fight their way through battles,
Swords slashing and hacking
Women love deeply
And embrace
As though giving away breath from their lungs.
In this ‘emptiness’ there are words
Some spoken below a whisper
Yet their power is felt by the soul
Stories pour from a space that seems to contains nothing
Yet there is so much there
It can be misunderstood or misread as writer’s block, or Artist’s cramp.
Yet it is there,
Dancing,
Active,
Waiting for you to peel back the white and reveal the flesh beneath.
Take an adventure with me as we push past the mundanity of our lives,
Let’s go where children are purposely conceived and planned for,
A place where a walk through meadows green is a journey to discover secrets.
Let’s go to a place where one’s name is rarely told because words are powerful and revealing a name is akin to revealing one’s soul.
Leave the land where pages are for numbers and the reporting of what we know already.
Mount your imaginations and let’s go!

Okay, that's it for now. Let me know what you think!

This is my introduction. A few years ago, I downloaded the song "A Change is Gonna Come." Initially, I listened, played it a few times and let it settle down in the list of rarely played songs. But something happen in my heart and soul. The impression is "a change is gonna come."

Well here I am, 'blogging!' Of course that's only part of the change. You see, for years, I've written poetry. I have a couple of novels in me somewhere, just haven't taken the time to do anything with them. Nothing is published and most of my efforts at writing have remained private. But the thing I always wanted to do is express mysself through visual arts.

I took classes at Columbia College and graduated in 1984 - a very long time ago! With a BFA (Bachelor of Fine Arts) I immediately felt overwhelmed. Though I'm sure I was as creative back then, I didn't do anything with it. I couldn't envision myself drawing or painting, though I had developed quite a bit of talent. Still, call it cultural pressures, I did not consider myself capable of success.

Twenty-five years later, while 'success' is nice, expression, the exercise of my soul, the images that pour from my soul, is paramount! I continue to write, but it's mostly journaling and a blog is great way to express myself that way. Who knows? Maybe soon I'll have a website featuring art and writing! Any way, this is my introduction.