Darkness gives way to light. Silence gives way to sound.
There was a “whoo whoo… whoo” audible at my cabin’s dark window this morning. By the time I checked both cats to make sure the sound wasn’t coming from them, I could no longer hear it from my desk. I stepped outside for a closer listen. Sure enough, the “whoo whoo… whoo” was simply dissolving again into the darkness.
A blessed Epiphany to you.
2015
2016
2017
2018 – “holy slivers hinged whole”
2019
“We leave not only a carbon footprint as we journey on planet earth, but a soul print as well. Scattered around us everywhere we go is tangible evidence that we have been in this place. And as a result of our presence, this place is either more—or less—loving and hopeful and prone toward mercy… The Light of the World has come and shines through us—yes, even us!” —Kayla McClurg
2020
“Learning to walk in the dark is an especially valuable skill in times like these—or maybe I should say remembering how to walk in the dark, since people of faith have deep pockets of wisdom about how to live through long nights in the wilderness. We just forget, most of us, once we got where we were going and the glory days began.” —Barbara Brown Taylor, Learning to Walk in the Dark
2021
“…what could be better than an answer to a question? The gift of bewilderment. The incoming rush of something foreign to the linear logic of the inquiry. New air sucked into the nostrils and lungs. … The motif of becoming generously lost.” —Bayo Akomolafe, These Wilds Beyond Our Fences, p.65
“Seven Years of Wonder” is a daily look back at my creative journaling posts since 2014. I began this journey on Feb. 11, 2021, and hope to continue through Feb. 10, 2022. What am I learning about my art and faith journey thus far? What has remained constant? Where have I been changed? How is this impacting present and future art-making?
A deep bow of gratitude to you for keeping me company on this journey.
vonda drees art 