Refractions and Reflections

I reread Mathew 27 today in honor of Good Friday. Afterward I had a song in my head I haven't heard in years, Avalon's "The Glory of the Blood." In it, there is a line that refers to, "the heart of the story: the glory of the blood." Lately I'm rethinking my stance on the Atonement and substitutionary sacrifice and all that, but haven't come to a firm conclusion yet. But I was trying to think of the theology of this lyric in harmony with a more liberal view of atonement. There is undeniably a bloody thread of salvation through Scripture. In the Old Testament animals paid the price to temporarily "buy" forgiveness for people's sins against God and each other. Then, of course, there was Jesus, about whom Scripture says He gave "His life as a ransom for many" (Mark 10:45; 1 Timothy 2:6, etc.) Interestingly, there is reference in Revelation, too, to the blood of saints/prophets/martyrs (chapters 16, 17, 18). The Early...

Let us reexamine that profoundly fascinating question of old, shall we? Which came first, the chicken or the egg?" Did the primordial goo spring up into a chicken, or did it spring up into separate specimens (for every species) of an egg and a sperm that somehow found each other, got all mingled up and incubated in the right way, and lived happily ever after as one little feathery clucker? And how is it that more chickens came after the first - was that first chicken already successfully equipped, without the evolutionary wait, with a functioning reproductive system? How else did successive, evolving numbers of chickens (as well as every other species) appear? These thoughts sprang to my mind the other day as I pondered the rare treasure of the double-yolked egg. That got me wondering if twins skip a generation in chickens, too, so one of the egg's grandchickens may have been a twin, too. :) As I've previously mentioned, I have a reading goal this year of st la...

I'm still reading Anna Karenina, but now I am closer to 700 pages in. I just finished reading one of the two more poignant scenes to me so far. This scene, like the earlier one that struck me, is a vivid illustration of a philosophical idea Tolstoy apparently believes in and expresses through his characters and their conversations. The earlier situation involved, through the evolution of more than one chapter/scene, the character Levin's development of his theory of how Russian agriculture might be improved. Through various interactions with people, witnessing of strangers' reactions to the work, and ideas clicking during conversation, Tolstoy outlines Levin's progression of thought on the subject. The more recent scene that moved me involves the inner workings of a natural-born artist (Mihailov) as compared with one who admires and studies and attempts through "technique" to, well, mimic, this unteachable instinct (Vronsky). Mihailov's creative proc...

I love symmetry and color and art. When I was a kid I was enthralled by kaleidoscopes. We even made them a couple of times, maybe in school or girl scouts or something... best project ever ! As a teenager I listened a lot to dcTalk, who sang about racial harmony with the lyrics, "My God's design / We are a skin kaleidoscope." To me that said all that needed said: diversity = beauty. One form of kaleidoscopic art that enthralls me as an adult is the mural mosaic. There are a few websites out there devoted to these, including muralmosaic.blogspot.com and muralmosaic.com . Here are a few of my favorites I found from a quick image search: I even found a brief tutorial from Lewis Lavoie on how to make them: I think it would be really cool to take all the photographs oneself of things relevant to the "big picture" and make one of these. I might just make it a long-term project!

---1--- Junk to Jewels! Okay, well, not junk exactly. But definitely a refurbishment! Today I took a couple of barstools we had and turned them into some sleek little end tables for the little house we will be moving into next month. Trying to save space, and I think these do the trick!   In the process of drying (the color is grey, and I made my own chalk paint by mixing 2 parts paint, 1 part powdered/dry plaster of paris, and 1/2 part water). Found some little "wood plugs" for 59 cents each at Sutherlands and painted them, too. Dry(ish) paint Had some molding adhesive lying around, and it is clear, so that's what I used to attach both the plugs and the glass tops (below). I had two glass tops lying around from a couple of old, cheap three-legged plywood stands that I don't even have anymore (just threw the last one out last week because the flimsy legs were skewed and it toppled over all the time). Side view: Ta-da! :)   ...

Familiarity breeds contempt. But you know...absence makes the heart grow fonder.... Sometimes I long for the unknown, the great adventure, the grass on the other side. And usually, once I get there, for a while I am on unfamiliar ground and have to get used to it, but eventually I find it's a good experience. Lately I find myself still eager to press on into uncharted territory (like all the cliches I'm using here?!), but at the same time feeling a little disoriented at the quick departure from what has for so long been familiar and comfortable. One day at a time, eh? I guess I'm feeling like a missionary, or a foreign exchange student - everything about the culture initially seems different - the view, the language, the food, the customs, the dress.... But...well, don't you love a story that brings to light how two seemingly disparate things are really very much alike? Like, for instance, I finished reading Dorothy Parker's Complete Stories last week. In ...

Though I would never call myself a morning person, per se, early morning is actually one of my favorite times of the day. Being a third shifter, I get to experience it more than I would if I worked normal daytime or evening hours, I'm sure! I love seeing a beautiful sunrise, and have noticed over the last couple of years that the various seasons can each yield their own kind of beautiful dawns! Whether it is a crisp, golden yellow, or a deep burnt orange or red...or even the transitioning of the blue before the sun adds color to the sky...whenever I look at the sky as it lightens I can't help but take pictures. I think it's fitting, too, that when I saw the ocean for the first time last May, I arrived on the beach just before dawn and got to see the sunrise. It was the stuff paintings are made of! One of my favorite hours is the one just before the sun rises. I love the stillness, the coolness, the quiet. So many are still sleeping, but yet there is a twinge of hope in th...