"art is prayer" (source lost in the bowels of my journal)
if art is truly prayer, then i am a monk.
i've long thought to be a monk one of the great privledges in life. i like quiet. i like to read a lot. i like to write. i wouldn't mind bare essentials. communal living just might suit me (at least i imagine it would). i wear sandals anyway and long dresses are just my cup of tea. don't know about the funny hairdo though, that might cause me a problem eventually and i would miss jeremy camp and dancing.
but i've been in a hard place for a very long time now and had forgotten how to pray. i know it is just a conversation with God, but you can only say, "we need a job" in so many ways, so many times then it becomes meaningless (to me that is). so i fell silent. penning my words and sitting quietly before the Lord. unable to pray.
when i saw that quote, it struck me, yes, i have been praying as i compose my works. i pour out my soul on a page, just like i used to when i had words to speak in prayer. sweet relief. i have not forsaken prayer after all.
as an artist, my prayerworks are sacred to me. they are the portraits God paints of Himself in my life. they are my musings and revelation. they are my prophetic eyes painting a portrait of hope, faith, and perseverance. these works, the prayers, they are my tangible worship of God.
am i a monk then? a modern day mystic, plodding through the land, sandal footed. living in commune with my family and friends. in the technical sense, no. but God has never held me to technical anything. so i can say, yes. i am a monk and these my prayers are forged daily upon the page.
Sovereign of my soul
Eternal glory
Lighten the darkness
Within me.
Sovereign of my soul
I yield, I trust
I delight
In Thee.
Sovereign of my soul
Use my arms to embrace
My strength to uphold
My words to encourage
Sovereign of my soul
Delight Thyself in me
I abandon my will for Yours
Give me courage.
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5 comments:
So, you'd be a monk rather than a nun. Interesting.
;-) But maybe it's just like you to take ownership of the word, just as my friend who is an actor would never call herself an actress.
I'd love to live in quasi community. Walking distance of a church that has Eucharist every day, and Mattins and Evensong, preferably sung by a fabulous choir. A communal library with great works. Country setting in a picture postcard village but within a two hour drive of a city like Boston or Montreal.
I say quasi community, because I would still like to have my own space to retreat to.
i don't know that i could live with all those women and be a nun. i'd have to be an imposter monk or something. i don't think i could abide not being around men. i enjoy them immensely. women i could do without.
that is so not what i want to hear/read. i wish we were all poets. i wish i wish i wish.
siouxsiepoet--you have the gift--why isn't your writing on the shelves? Or is it?
TS, how kind. how very kind of you. my work is not on the shelves because i refuse do be marketable. i refuse to prostitute my art. i will, however, share it with whomever cares to read it. art is the highest language there is, there is no price one can pay that would equal the elation of the mountaintop painted, or the darkest valley described in words. but such lofty opinions do not serve my pocketbook well. so i do the best i can, knowing God has a plan and a purpose of goodness for me and my work. i trust Him to circulate it through living hands. i simply trust.
thanks for your kind words.
btw, who are you? would like to know.
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