When I draw or paint my brain relaxes. Otherwise, most of
the time it feels jumbled and breathless. Usually, I live on the edge of saying
the wrong word or jumping in with a wrong decision. Any conversation interruption
stops my thought process. I used to have a witty sense of humor with quick comebacks.
Cant even recite a joke now. The jokes now come when I use an inappropriate or
off the wall word in conversation. We look at each other like “where did that
come from?”. My brain is also full of random information gleaned from being a
voracious reader of fiction and apparently a set of encyclopedias somewhere along
the way.
The status of reading has certainly changed in my lifetime.
When we were kids, my parents thought we were just reading to get out of chores
or being lazy. Reading was a lifeline for me. I went to different places and
times. Not everyone was like Willard, Ohio. My travels led me to ancient Rome
and Egypt. I was on the battlefield with Molly Pitcher and at horse farms with
Justin Morgan. The Swiss Family Robinson tree was my home. I fell in love with Rhett Butler.
But still it wasn’t cool to say that reading was one of your
hobbies.
Today, the news is full of stories about the decline of
books, libraries and reading in general. The public is concerned about the next
generation being able to read. I worry about their overall education. So many
things and places that young people do not explore in books. Everyone cant
visit Timbuktu, but they can at least know what it is. Kids are required now to
read a preset number of minutes for homework. My grandchildren still like to
learn a new word. Rarely do you see anyone at the airport with their nose stuck
in a book, oblivious to the crowds glued to iphones. Will they eventually speak in the msg dialect?
I am now unable to read books because of confusion and
focus. I miss the being lost feeling. But God as chosen for me to try art. Do
you remember the pictures in TV guide to draw for art school scholarships? My
drawings were always a little off. Now I use that to advantage in abstracts.
But along the way, I trained to draw what I see. And that everything in the picture
doesn’t have to be in the painting. And no, the painting doesn’t really look
like the picture. It is a painting! The artist has his own unique vision.
My current project is titled “Waiting for Jesus”. It is one
of a group series to celebrate the days of Holy Week for a local church. I
chose Saturday or Black Sabbath as some call it. Yeah, like most of you, I thought
that the Saturday after Good Friday was for coloring eggs and shopping for Easter
clothes and candy for baskets filled at midnight. This assignment has led me
through Isaiah in the Old Testament to the Gospels in the New to find out what
happened with Jesus on Saturday. That was/is the Jewish Sabbath and all
followed the traditional rules for the day. I could not find that anyone had
mourned at the tomb for Jesus. But many awaited his anointing and resurrection-
all who are captives of Satan until Jesus proclaims their freedom.
The process of the painting helped me realize my own captivity
and that all I had to do was reach out to Jesus for salvation. Praise God for
leading me here. And I have no trouble reading His book.
