Inspiration

Somewhere in the US, a police officer is breaking the news to a mother that her child is dead. Opening ourselves to the glory and joys of motherhood also exposes our hearts to the unimaginable possibility of loss; and in that possibility of loss is an endless grief. Praying for all the mothers that are grieving today and praying for an end to gun violence. 

Dispatches from Château d'Orquevaux As we round out the last week of being here, I reflect on what the time has been like. It is hard to put into words all that this place is and means to me. I do not know how to properly express what I learned and how much rest it was for my soul. So, I will leave you, dear reader, with some beautiful images of this fairytale château.

I remember being a young person, caught up in the spiritual fever of charismatic Christianity. There was a nervous anticipation in each sacred gathering of being caught up by the Spirit. We waved our hands, spoke in tongues and prayed fervent prayers. Water that runs over rocks splashes and makes a lot of noise.

As I walked down the hill from that château to the studios in the stables, I snapped this picture of L'église Saint-André in the distance. The rain today highlights the patina of the church and the verdancy of the spring grass. The château is quiet today, artists all behind their studio doors working hard on painting, writing, film editing, and sculpting.

I am writing to you today from Chateau d'Orquevaux in rural northeast France. The chateau sits atop a hill overlooking a pond filled by crystal clear water from a canal that runs along the edge of the little village of Orquevaux. There are perhaps only 80 people in the village, plus the 20 or so artists that come every month to the chateau to work. It is ridiculously beautiful.

No one lives a life truly without regret. Regretting that we made that unkind remark or regretting our choice in which college we attended. Regret is a useful emotion. "Non, je ne regrette rien..."

While it's not a hilarious review like Dave Barry likes to write at the end of each year, I break my year down month-by-month and remember the highlights.

The ways to embrace coziness are simple. Soft fabrics, fluffy blankets, dim lighting, candles, fireplace, warm tea, books, soft music, a warmth of spirit, and no electronics. Use this season to connect with yourself, with loved ones, and embrace the darkness.

Art is not the individual objects that I make in my studio, but it is the whole of life. I cannot remove myself from being an artist at home, neither do I cease being a mom when I am working in clay. How do I infuse a little bit of art and meaning in to my every life? How do I make my studio life a bit cozier? What are ways that I merge my different vocations into one person, one life?

...ritual without meaning is dead and meaningless. But ritual coupled with meaning is liturgy. Lighting candles during the darkest time of the year (in the Northern Hemisphere) can infuse this time with meaning and significance.

This November has me thinking about a lot of things that on the surface don't seem to have much in common. What does my birthday, All Saints Day, the Election, and Charles Dickens have in common?

"They are all long shots.” Those words reverberated in my bones. All of it, all these risks we take, they are all long shots. If you keep pulling back that bow, one of these times you are going to hit the target. The thing about trying and missing is that you are going to get better.

For the people who visit Our Lady of Mercy, the sculptures point us to the Divine. The Stations of the Cross illustrate the Passion. They don’t merely retell an historical event but attempt to uncover some of the deeper spiritual truths. The Virgin Mary is celebrated as the mother of God but also as a woman whose act of faith changed the world. Her husband, St. Joseph, stands as a reminder to fathers and husbands of the important role that God has for them.

In my image, St. Joseph sits in his workshop with his carpenter’s angle in one hand dropping into his lap. A hammer and nails on the floor remind us of Christ’s passion. Joseph has just heard word from the angel in his dream about Jesus, and he stares into his hand, “Me, a father? The Son of God?!”

Most people imagine the artist caught up in fits of passion, creating, oblivious of the needs of daily life.  We picture the sculptor chipping away in a frenzy of artistic ecstasy. The most exciting part of creating art is indeed the conceptual phase at the beginning.

God gave me a vision of a sculpture that I had to make. I pulled out a pen and sketched out the image on an overturned piece of stationary. I drew an image of a woman, shown from the waist up. Her head and eyes turned dramatically to one side as her body twisted in the opposite direction. The visual effect was that of a spiral.

put on my kitchen apron. My aprons keep my clothes cleaner, certainly, but they are important for managing that mental shift I make everyday from working artist to working mother.

I've been plugging my phone in earlier in the evening and spending that time reading. It's amazing how many pages I've been able to read! T

I had been feeling panicked about not getting enough work done or paying enough attention to this thing or that, but I have been giving my mind and body exactly what it has needed- a reset.

I cannot keep a schedule, but I can keep a rhythm.