January 13

With one of my watercolor cosmos paintings (not the one shared today), I pondered and pondered the idea that our pupils are black holes. This day’s gathering of images brings that idea to mind again.

2015

2016

2017

2019 – Here are my words back in 2019 used to share the inspiration for the image below:

“…the heaven was opened…” That’s what caught my attention during this morning’s gospel reading. No surprise, really, given the Guild’s 2019 theme of Opening. One thing we confirmed with last year’s theme of River Flow is that the Wenatchee River is a sacred place for folks. A pastor shared with me yesterday that when he’s feeling uninspired, he physically puts himself in a place where he has experienced inspiration in the past… and inspiration often comes. It made me think about the river being an opener. What is our work then in the opening? Perhaps it begins with simply showing up. And with that, it’s time to go get that weekly river video.

2020

“And is not time even as Love is, undivided and paceless?
But if in your thought you must measure time into seasons, let each season encircle all the other seasons,
And let today embrace the past with remembrance and the future with longing.”
—Kahlil Gibran, in *The Prophet*

2021

“Among us, there is a sense of smallness—a not-too-distant and humbling awareness that the planet that seems to stretch out to infinity before our very eyes is but a speck’s mite in the unfathomable expanse of the universe. We know the world doesn’t spin around us. . . . …we are here at this edge—because even though we are very small and blissfully inconsequential, we understand that the same molecules that cooked in the heart of ancient stars, exploding into space, and birthing other planets gave birth to us… . . . We are not merely admitting that the world doesn’t spin around us—because owning up to this still preserves, in small doses, the idea that we are apart from the world, instead of what the world is doing. Our humility lies in recognizing that we are the world’s spin, the dizziness of things.” —Bayo Akomolafe, *These Wilds Beyond Our Fences*, p. 227

“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.