Skip to main content

collage: grey world

to the left is an assemblage i made a few years ago, which i sold, but i came across this picture of it, and realized that i had never shared it on my blog (at least i don't think i did).  this is obviously a black and white assemblage, created in a shadowbox.  it's probably too difficult to read on this pic, but there are words on the glasses and they read, "truth is not black and white."  and the collage is called "grey world."  you can draw your own conclusions.

you may or may not agree with me, and i'm okay with that.  but it's my prerogative as an artist to express the world as i encounter it, and hopefully to make others feel or think something in the process. 

here's what i think: the older i get, the less sure i am; the more i learn, the less i know; the more i seek, the more i discover that questions - not answers - are the real treasure; and the world is quite simply not as black and white as i once thought it was. 

at first this realization was disarming and disorienting.  as i grew out of a watertight worldview into something that actually had to deal with reality - and with people - there were some accompanying growing pains.  the world didn't fit nicely into my simple, preconceived notions of right and wrong, justice, and truth.  things are complicated.  words (and The Word) need interpretation.  truth grows more real and beautiful in story, while it withers and dies in propositions and dogmas.  justice is blind, but mercy, her sister, sees all the darkness.  and wisdom?  well she mediates between the two.  and it just isn't as black and white as i once thought it was.  it isn't cut and dried.  the world is broken and beautiful.  messed up and  magical.  shipwrecked and shot full of glory.  it is black and white and bright orange and deep blue and an entire spectrum of swirled colors.  and it is grey, with space for asking real questions, doubting real doubts, and dreaming real dreams.  and the truth?  the truth is not a destination.   it's not written in stone.  it's not at the courthouse or the church building.  the truth is in the journey - the experience of searching and seeking and knocking and asking and discovering the One who is Truth and Life and Justice and Mercy and Wisdom and Hope and Love. 

it is a grey world.  and i am happy to be alive in it, discovering the beauty in every moment.  grace and peace.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

#thoughtsandprayers

i made these comments and prayed the following prayer at one of our worship services at SPWF yesterday, and had a few folks asked if i would post them, so there they are: 
It has been a season of terrible tragedy.  And I have noticed in the news a trending phrase: thoughts and prayers.  It even has its own hashtag on twitter and other social media, but net necessarily in a good way.  People are understandably tired of hearing about others’ thoughts and prayers, when that is only a thinly-veiled way of saying that our only obligation to those who suffer is a brief moment of silence, or nothing more than a tweet or public statement.  The truth is that, for those of us who follow Jesus, much is required when our neighbors suffer.  We are called to do justice where we can, to love kindness and mercy, and to walk with God through it all.  But let us be careful not to throw out the proverbial baby with the bathwater.  We are, as people of faith, those who know that prayer is not simply an em…

a divided tree

there is a tree in my back yard.  i'm pretty sure it's an oak tree.  at least that's what i think Shannon told me.  i don't know my oaks from my maples, my elms from my locusts.  to me, it's a tree: a corinthian column bursting up into life and glory.  full of sap and pulp and rings and bugs and cells pulsing with water and always reaching for something.  it is full of rhythm, reach and flourish then fall and die, and repeat. 

this particular tree, though, isn't of one mind. 

half of it's rusted orange leaves have given up their grip and surrendered -gracefully or not - to the pull of gravity and the threat of winter.  the north side of this inauspicious oak is just about bare naked, all sticks and straight lines, a skeleton of itself.  but the side that looks south is stubbornly resisting change.  no longer green, the leaves have compromised their summer vibrancy, but they are clearly not ready to concede death just yet. 

i feel like i can relate to this …

thankful right now

"if the only prayer you ever say in your life is 'thank you,' it will be enough." -Meister Eckhart

"thanksgiving is inseparable from prayer." -John Wesley

i've been thinking about gratitude quite a bit this week, and how to foster a thankful spirit in the midst of the barrage of bad news that for me is punctuated by yet another "breaking news" notification on my phone, interrupting the busyness of my day to rudely remind me that the world's brokenness knows nothing of limits or boundaries, not to mention my schedule or sanity.  still, the bad news keeps coming. 

i just scrolled through my most recent notifications just from the last few days and they contain phrases like "crimes against humanity," "57 million users hacked, but not reported," "alleged pattern of sexual abuse," and "extremely disturbing," just to name a few.  how am i supposed to be present at a staff meeting when my phone is buzzing …