Sunday morning, more than a decade ago.
Music, fellowship, and reports about what God was doing here and there.
Some things are worth remembering. We learn from looking back—
but we must live forward.
Sometimes the quickest drawings hold the deepest truths. During an after-sermon discussion about understanding the love of God, I found myself listening with one ear and drawing with the other. Frank, seated across the room, made a natural model—relaxed posture, thoughtful presence, and a face full of character.
With a pen in hand, I traced his form in a quick contour line, following the folds of his shirt, the tilt of his jaw, the stillness of his hands resting in his lap. Contour drawing asks us to see more than just the surface—it demands patience and presence, a slowing down until the line itself feels like prayer.
Frank became more than a subject; he was a reminder that the love of God is often revealed in ordinary moments and everyday people.
This week’s been an interesting one for socialising in my world, no denying it. If I’m not getting acquainted with new folks at work or at my art clubs, it’s reconnecting with people I haven’t seen in 20+ years… certainly informed today’s piece, without a doubt!
A line taken from the current book I’m digesting…
Finally reading the My Neighbor Totoro book my girlfriend got me for my birthday. Slowly getting through but enjoying it immensely!
I woke up at 5am(ish) last Sunday and not settling back to rest, I switched my radio on and hoped for the best. Next thing I know I’m half awake listening to one of Yo La Tengo’s more drone oriented songs. The track itself was 8 minutes long but felt longer… of course, this gave me ideas. What do you expect?
Sometimes, a good goodbye is also a fresh hello.
As we wrapped up our "Sacred Spaces" paintings, I asked our student teacher to design a one-day project—something playful, earthy, and engaging to ease the class into her care. She brought mud. Literally.
Using mud and simple stencils, students pressed images—flowers, insects, wings—onto the sidewalk behind our school. There's something timeless about making marks with the ground itself. It felt ancient and immediate at the same time.
These prints won’t last long, but maybe that’s the point. A fleeting image, a shared laugh, a new hand guiding the next phase of learning.
Art is about making marks. Not all of them need to be permanent.
