Four Seasons in Rome

No, I'm not headed off to Rome for a year.

Anthony Doerr did, as part of a year-long artist fellowship he won. He, his wife and six month old twin boys traveled from their home in Idaho to an unknown apartment in an unknown city in an unknown culture speaking an unknown language (except the four hour crash course in Italian he took on a Saturday morning before they left). The journal he kept during that year became this book, Four Seasons in Rome.

"A good journal entry - like a good song, or sketch, or photograph - ought to break up the film that forms over the eye, the finger, the tongue, the heart. A good journal entry ought to be a love letter to the world."

The stories of their walk through the four seasons there, a few blocks from the Vatican, is subtitled, On Twins, Insomnia, and the Biggest Funeral in the World. Beyond recording the events, the adjustments, and the challenges, the book, for me, is a lesson in How-to-Journal.

"A journal entry is for its writer; it helps its writer refine, perceive, and process the world."

The five senses are recorded throughout - a means he uses to process his memories, and a vibrant way for the reader to be involved in the scenes he records. Sights, smells, tastes, touch, and sounds - all carefully, thoughtfully woven through his words. Standing shoulder to shoulder with mourners as the pope dies, and later, pushing their double stroller through the crowd of celebrants as the new pope is chosen. Describing to a baker, the rich bread smells around them, the focaccia bread he wants to order, misunderstanding the frustration, realizing later he was asking, in his broken Italian, for grapefruit sauce. Discovering new foods, making new friends, listening to the language, learning to understand it. Hunting down those vivid details, linking them together to build a sequence of thought, to "stay alert to the miracles of the world."

"A year is an infinity of perceptions: not just the shapes of starlings and the death of the pope and watching our sons learn to walk, but the smell of roasting meat in an alley, the dark brown eyes of a beggar on a church step, a single dandelion seed settling soundlessly onto the habit of a nun who is riding the train. This year has been composed of a trillion such moments; they flood the memory, spill over the edge of journal entries. What is it physicists tell us? Even in a finite volume, there are an infinite number of points."

In a way, this is discouraging. An infinite number of points? How could I ever catch them all? But that's not the point. Grab one. Grab two. Catch three. Record those vivid details, link together the sentences that help a reader (and me, the writer!) to see, smell, touch, taste and hear a world of beauty and miracles.

Anthony Doerr quotes Marilynne Robinson,

"There are a thousand thousand reasons to live this life, every one of them sufficient."

I think of Mary Oliver's poem,

"PAY ATTENTION
BE ASTONISHED
TELL ABOUT IT." 

Keeping a journal has been important to me for years. I have a box of old journals stashed in a closet. Never for publication, but for me to thumb back through if I am looking for notes, or find when something happened, or just for browsing. This book, Four Seasons in Rome, is not only an interesting read of their year as a family, as an artist, as an author, as part of a community, but also of the way he perceived and responded to the world around him, brilliant at capturing those images, and how he stayed alert to the miracles of the world. Now, when I write in my journal, I pay attention - not just recording feelings (as in emotions), but capturing a moment in time, using the senses as a means of paying attention, and searching for the right words.

I tried to find a good example of how he incorporates the senses in his sentences. It is an overall impression he leaves. I would call his journals, Impressionistic Journaling. Like the impressionist painters that paint in various dots and smudges and blends of color, but leave a distinct image on the canvas, he paints images with his words that leave a distinct image. Powerful, beautiful writing.

"Everything is radiant. Distant trees toss, faraway walls gleam. The mountains at the horizon have switched on like streetlights, stark and defined, giving way to more distant ranges.
Then everything goes dark again, the clouds knitted together, the mountains sucked back into silhouette, Rome sinking into shadow."

The Road Less Traveled

The Road Not Taken

"Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference."

This poem, by Robert Frost, is a favorite. I have probably quoted it here, before.

We found this painting at a thrift store, and "had" to add it to our collection of mountain paintings, destined for our cabin walls once they are finished, beyond the stud stage.  

Since the time change, I have noticed new lighting patterns, the shift of the sun's position and the timing of the sun glow across the walls and floors. Right now, the evening sun shafts across this road, framing it in gold, making what is around that corner almost visible.

Our cabin in the mountains could be right around that corner, the road, its invitation to come and stroll, to welcome the quiet, or hear the wind waves through the trees. 

Signed Stanley Awbrey, 1973, it could have been painted on the road we take, the road to our cabin, one autumn day. I imagine a few deer strolled by while he sat and painted, a chipmunk paused a moment to watch, and blue jays chattered overhead at his plen-air intrusion into their quiet world. I have no idea who Stanley Awbrey is, or where he is now, or what he was like, but I am grateful he took the time to create this moment, preserved in time, for us to enjoy years later.

If I could be like Edmund and Lucy and Eustace and jump into a picture, this would be it. Oh, wait. We do jump into this painting when we go to the mountains, creating our place, there. This reminds me what a privilege that is, and I am grateful.

THOUGHT TAPESTRY

October was  rich month of reading and learning. Three books: The Gifts of Imperfection, by Brene Brown, a million little ways, by Emily Freeman, and  The Irrational Season, by Madeleine L'Engle. I ended up with random thoughts, notes scribbled on papers, un-tied connections, similar themes. I am a visual learner, part of the reason I write out notes and copy quotes. I needed something to pull it all together, to make sense out of it all, to connect the dots.

Mind-mapping. This tool helps me take a jumble of thoughts and weave them together into a thought tapestry, a way to "see" the thoughts in an ordered visual that makes sense to me.

First, I had to define one word that tied it all together. Well, I ended up with two words.

                                                  IMPERFECT GIFTS

This phrase took thoughts from all three books and gave me a center, a point to start from. After that, I browsed through the notes from the books, picking out main ideas and consistent themes from them. 

As I was writing out the sub-topics, they seemed to flow in a clockwise pattern.

• reflect the image of God
• rhythm of the Spirit of God
• vulnerability
• weakness
• wonder
• show up
• offer
• intuition
• confidence
• courage
• connection

The imperfect gifts I create and offer to others are a reflection of the art God has created in me. (Clarification: not that the gifts I receive from the Lord are imperfect - this is about what I do with His perfect gifts to me, in me)

I am looking for a quote from each book to include here. There are too many - like three whole books' worth. 

The Irrational Season is the third book in a series called The Crosswicks Journals. They are each written in a particular season of Madeleine L'Engle's life. For each, she picks one word as a theme. My theme word for this year is "quiet." Her words for her three books are: "Ontological, Ousia, and Anamnesis." And she doesn't consider herself an intellectual. In this last of the three books she thinks and writes through a full year of Christian celebrations with living memory - anamnesis - She writes, "...As I understand anamnesis in my writing, so I understand it in the Holy Mysteries. When we are truly remembering, when we know anamnesis, suddenly the mighty acts of God are present." (These are out of print, but are available on Amazon's used book lists)

Emily Freeman says, "[God] invites you to move with the rhythm of his Spirit. This is a mystery and wonder that is the gospel. He doesn't wait until we are conformed to a version of ourselves that we are pleased with. He comes in to transform us from the inside out."

My gifts, imperfect now, entrusted  to Him, offered as I show up and practice imperfection.

Brene Brown writes, "It reminds me that our imperfections are not inadequacies; they are reminders that we're all in this together. Imperfectly, but together."

My mind-map is not complete, not finished. Neither am I. More to learn, more to grow, more to understand. It was intriguing to me that "listen" showed up in three different places on the chart. A reminder to pay attention, to hear and see beyond my limited perspective. This tapestry of thoughts, these lessons, weave creatively into my heart, speaking to me of the Lord's love and extending into my days to give me confidence and courage to reach out.

I am linking with Emily's blog, Chatting At the Sky, sharing a piece of the art created in me this month.

a million little ways

Have you heard someone say, "She's a real piece of work." Their eyes narrowed, one hand on a hip, the other hand out, finger pointed, their mouth tight, twisted to one side, their nose, elevated.

Have they said it to you?

Are you searching for value, for dignity? For someone to notice, appreciate you and what you do?

http://bit.ly/15zptkk  (click to see the 1:34 video trailer for her book)

In the brand new book by Emily Freeman, a million little ways, she speaks in her quiet, gentle, graceful (grace full) voice. Not a to-do list of a million things to do. I'm sure you don't need help making that long list. Not lists of ideas of what is art and how to craft it.

 Instead, Emily offers a glimpse into the heart of art. The Creator. A life. A masterpiece. A beautiful creation by a loving Lord. Yes, that would be you.

"...I hope to prove myself a worthy companion, an intuitive observer of the art of God. Still, there is one thing I know for sure: I know you are an image bearer with a job to do. And the simplest description I can come up with for what that means is this: You are art and you make art.
And the only place to begin uncovering what your art looks like is to start right where you are."

She says, "Now, look at Ephesians 2:10. 'For we are God's masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago.'...The English words used in this text - masterpiece, sometimes translated workmanship - these are translations of the original word...poiema. Our English word poem comes from the same Greek word. Workmanship, masterpiece, poem - all these words in Scripture are used to describe God's work - you and me.
"God calls you his workmanship, his poeima. What happens when God writes poetry?
"We do. We happen.
"We are walking poetry, the kind that moves, the kind who has hands and feet, the kind with mind and will and emotion. We are what happens when God expresses himself."

I desperately want to do justice to Emily, to convey to you the heart of her message and encourage you to pursue and learn what she has to offer. The words have layers, like an onion. Peel them back, work deeper, uncover the hidden meanings. And, maybe cry while you are cutting to the heart. One line I particularly appreciate, because it is filled with freedom. "You are a poem, not a robot." Yes, poems have patterns and rules and structure. But also the freedom to create and breathe, heart and soul, within those words.

I could go on quoting, but it would be better if you read the book yourself.

What does this mean for me? How does this change my day, my attitudes, my actions? My art is here. This home, this family, these relationships, as I go through my days, freedom and excitement happen as I create art. Not one perfectly brushed canvas or one perfectly worded manuscript or one perfectly weeded garden, but an expression of who I am, in a million little ways.

Are you a piece of work? Yes, in a wonderful, amazing way.

Thank you, Emily.

The book is available at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and Dayspring.
Emily's blog: www.chattingatthesky.com

I forgot to mention, Bloom Book Club with (in)courage is hosting a series of interviews with Emily, two days a week, now through Nov 21. You can listen in anytime to hear Emily chat about her book and share her inspiration.

Eagles' Wings

"...how I bore you up on eagles' wings and brought you to myself."

Exodus 19:4

drawing by our daughter, littlebitzoart, white pencil on black canvas

Eddy

Our daughter's first attempt with a time lapse video. Take a fun three minutes and watch Eddy the Jaguar come to life. Fascinating.

her website: littlebitzoart.wix.com/littlebitzoart

Laughter

This is an antique school slate I use for our menu plan each week. Sometimes I draw a flower or some simple design along with the meal plan. I found a cool website (google: chalkboard art) with lots of ideas for quotes using interesting lettering techniques. Obviously, I need lots of work on the lettering, but this attempt was fun. Using chalk markers make it a lot easier for those of us (me) without the patience to use a piece of chalk. Can you imagine the children who used this slate instead of paper and pencil to learn their ABC's and arithmetic?

Our artist daughter contributed this. I left the sketch part up for quite a few weeks, not wanting to erase the design.

Laughter - be sure you leave some behind.

Look Up

This weekend we visited the first gallery where our artist daughter displayed her work. This is pencil, on canvas.

Love the perspective here, the familiar sight, yet a different angle.

A reminder, our perspective makes a difference: how we view life, the world, those around us.

Be small. Look up.

For the Love of Art

Our daughter has a new website to display her art and promote her commission work. She will take a photo you send her - a pet, a family member or friend, anything, anyone, really, and turn it into a drawing. She does white pencil on black, pencil drawings, or a touch of color in a black and white drawing. Her latest technique is to draw on canvas, like a painter would use, but she does her pencil drawings on it to create a more finished product. She loves a challenge, stretching her skills to discover a new technique and fresh abilities.

http://littlebitzoart.wix.com/littlebitzoart#!home/mainPage

Explore, browse through her website to see more of her completed drawings.

Granted. I am the proud mother. What do you think? Draw a black lab on black with a white pencil. Don't you want to scratch this lab behind the ears? I could take her home.

She also has a blog, http://littlebitzofart.blogspot.com/

A Painter of Light

Thomas Kinkade, known as a painter of light, passed away last week. His paintings, popularized through prints, calendars, cards, books and local galleries, are said to be in 20% of the homes in the United States. We are one of those homes, with several of his prints on our walls.

In another house, these climbed up the stairwell. Here, they work well following the line of the high ceiling. One day, our youngest was sitting on the couch, looking up at them. He said they told a story. "You go in through the gate, walk along the path into that garden in the middle painting, sit and rest awhile in the gazebo, then keep climbing on the trail, through the trees by that stream, up the hill until you get to the top and can look back down on the valley below." I hadn't really planned it that way when we put them up, but it works.

One of our daughters, in a college class, heard the instructor severely criticize his paintings as unrealistic and fanciful. Yes, we have lived in beautiful areas, but we have seen, many times, sunsets and sky and ocean scenes as spectacular as those he paints. For real. Cloud forms, sunrises, sunsets, light reflecting across water, ocean waves, cozy cottages, busy city streets, mountains, trees, all are scenes he painted. The next time it rains, watch for the lights reflected onto the streets, like in this painting. For real.

I love the houses and cottage scenes he paints. He said at one gallery, a woman came up to him to say one of his paintings got her through a very depressing time. She would look at the scene and visualize herself sitting on the porch, comfortably rocking in the chair, looking out over the field. By imagining the peace and quiet and calm of the place, she was able to rise above her conflict. This is one of my favorites. The dappled sunlight across the roof and courtyard, the abundant flowers, and the indoor lights shining through the shutters make it very inviting and comfortable. I could sit there, in my rocking chair.

His books, also are inspiring. Simpler Times is my favorite, a book easy to browse through, or to read and absorb. My book has crinkled, wrinkled pages from a time it got wet, but that does not dampen its message of creativity and joy and beauty. My favorite quote is from the chapter on romance.

"Contrary to popular opinion,  romance is not a relationship - although it can add fullness and spice and excitement to a connection between two people...Romance is instead an attitude, a set of habits, a way of encountering the world. You are a romantic when savoring experience is a priority for you, when you are willing to invest time and energy into making your experiences more vivid and memorable...We live in a beautiful world, one that is shimmering with romance. It's all around you, rich and lovely and exciting. It comes into your life when you open yourself to savor your moments - happy and sad, beautiful and mundane, alone or with someone you love."

In Lightposts for Living, he writes about planning and living a fulfilling life. He challenged readers to write a ten word summary of their life goals. At first, I thought that was impossible. Ten words? All of life purpose in ten words? Right. It came to me, one night, after I had worked and re-worked it.

People and places are improved because of my influence. Surprisingly, I fit it into nine words.

This artist, with his human frailties and struggles, just like the rest of us, expressed his creativity and encouraged us with scenes of joy and peace and love and beauty.
 I am inspired by him, and grateful.

Doggie Art

Our son and his wife have two beagles.

Their dining room had a long, empty wall that needed some kind of art or decoration. Since they are both creative and like to think outside the box, they bought three canvases, painted them black, blending to mocha, blending to latte (we drink a lot of coffee in this house).

Their idea was to dip the puppies' feet in the paint and have them walk across the canvases.

But, after one race around the family room rug with painted puppy paws, they moved the project outside, dipped the feet and held them to dab the paw prints on to the canvas.

Add a few swirls. Doggie art.

Our granddaughter thought they looked like snowflakes. My first impression was flowers, like spring blossoms on a fruit tree. Granddad thought the swirls were like wagging puppy tails. A happy decoration for their dining room.

Negative Spaces

From an artist's perspective, negative spaces are just as critical to draw as the object itself. What are negative spaces? Between the chair legs. Between the bent elbow and the waistline. Underneath the horse, the air around his legs. The shape of the sky around the tree and the sunlight between the leaves. As a non-artist, I asked, "How do you draw air?"

My artist friend, Jane, patiently explained that if you draw the shapes around something, between, you will draw the shape of the object. A different perspective. I see a house, a chair, a tree. She sees light and shadows and motion and shades and shapes and details unnoticed by me. She sees and draws the empty space that to me would seem a non-space. To her, it appears full of details.

To an artist, the folds of the shirt and the shadows on leaves are a contrast of negative space and shape, dark and light, color and tone. She takes an object and is able to interpret the details on to a paper or a canvas and give them dimension and life by accurately describing the negative spaces.

In this photo, look carefully at the shape of the spaces between the rungs, between the stair rails, between the stairs and the floor.

Don't look at the letters, look between them, around them

How we look at things, at life, makes a big difference in our perspective. This week, as families are gathering for the Thanksgiving holiday, remember to check your perspective and notice that even the negative spaces around us are critical to the whole picture. The sad, empty places of our lives give form to the full, happy spots.

Have you thought of any comparisons to life? Our choices not to do something are just as critical as what to do. The spaces in our lives that feel negative or empty, are what actually give definition and shape to the rest of the days. We are as dependent on our negative spaces as on our full, positive times. How we use our down-times, the spaces in our homes, how we choose to fill our minds, all are influenced by the positive and the negatives in our lives.

Look between the lines that mark the spaces in our lives, find the color and beauty in a fresh perspective.

If you can stop being mesmerized by the eyes, look at all the negative spaces defining the shapes in this drawing.
littlebitzofart.deviantart.com

Walking On Water

This weekend I finished reading Walking on Water, by Madeleine L'Engle. She is a writer with depth and talent and insight who instills vision and hope and courage. As a woman who successfully worked as a writer while fulfilling her roles as wife, mom, homemaker and artist, she is one of my hero role models.

 I tried to come up with one good quote to share - a tough challenge - tempting to copy the whole book. Ended up with two quotes to share:

"To trust, to be truly whole, is also to let go whatever we may consider our qualifications. There's a paradox here, and a trap for the lazy. I do not need to be 'qualified' to play a Bach fugue on the piano (and playing a Bach fugue is for me an exercise in wholeness). But I cannot play that Bach fugue at all if I do no play the piano daily, if I do not practise my finger exercises. There are equivalents of finger exercises in the writing of books, the painting of portraits, the composing of a song. We do not need to be qualified; the gift is free; and yet we have to pay for it...for such understanding is a gift which comes when we let go, and listen."

"The paradox is that the creative process is incomplete unless the artist is, in the best and most proper sense of the word, a technician, one who knows the tools of his trade, has studied his techniques, is disciplined. One writer said, 'If I leave my work for a day, it leaves me for three.'...The moment of inspiration does not come to someone who lolls around expecting the gift to be free. It is no give-away. It is the pearl for which we have to pay a great price..."

Her analogy is that an artist must let go, trust, listen, seek, and have faith; then walk on the water as they create.

These blog posts are a way for me to do my finger exercises. Thanks to all of you for listening while I practice my scales and harmonies, learn my technique and run my fingers across the keyboard.

The Art of Copy (Part Two)

Yesterday, I wrote about the value of copying great works, in any field, in order to learn and practice to achieve a new skill. Today, here are more examples.

In the beginning of the Suzuki Violin Method, four essential points are given. The first is:

1. The child should listen to the reference recordings every day at home to develop musical sensitivity. Rapid progress depends on this listening.

The key to rapid progress is reproducing the sounds, tones and notes heard on the recording. The development of musical ability is in copying the recordings listened to daily. Also recommended are group lessons where the younger, newer students are mixed in with the older more advanced students. Again, opportunity is given to provide good examples for the younger students to copy. The same principles are applied in the Piano Method.

Years ago, when I was expecting our fourth baby, with three under age five, I inherited my aunt's drawing table and art supplies. Inspired by her pencil drawings, and wanting to follow in her steps, I took a drawing I loved from a favorite book, L'Abri, by Edith Schaeffer (drawing by Deirdre Ducker). 

I drew a grid over the drawing in the book, then very lightly drew a larger grid over my paper. I worked on it each day as the kids were napping: drawing, focusing on only what was isolated in each square. By closing off the visual of the drawing as a whole, and looking only at the details of each square, one by one, I was able to reproduce the drawing very closely. When finished, I erased the lightly drawn lines on my drawing, but left them in the book as is. 

At the time, because it was just a copy, I didn't frame it, and it sat in a pile of papers in the garage for years. When an artist friend and I were talking, I pulled it out, and she insisted on framing it, saying that any art is of great value, even if it is just a copy. Now, it hangs on our living room wall with other original art and prints.

In the Charlotte Mason Companion, by Karen Andreola, she delineates a technique of teaching called narration, or "retelling what has just been read", either aloud or written by the students. "Narration strengthens and challenges all the powers of the mind." As the child thinks about what was read or heard, s/he builds powers of concentration, memory, evaluation, interpretation, and comprehension. By synthesizing and articulating their thoughts about what they understood and telling back (spoken or written) what they heard or read, knowledge is assimilated and reproduced. Copied. While copying, the student "develops a style all his own," a concept which was also shared in the quote by Pablo Picasso, yesterday.

In my workout sessions, watching the DVD, I am copying the movements of athletes who are far beyond my abilities. I match their moves as accurately as I can, working and striving to develop my muscles and strength as they demonstrate. By setting my goals beyond what I am currently capable; by copying those with a level of fitness I am working towards, those goals become possible, achievable (eventually).

Why do we enjoy looking at magazine or catalog photos of rooms decorated with a certain style? We imagine copying them, duplicating the look in our own rooms. Also with clothing catalogs, we imagine ourselves looking like the models, which the designers, of course, know very well and choose their models accordingly.

Learning by copying, teaching by copying, are  both valid methods. Of course this does not imply infringing on copyright laws or claiming a copied work as original. As a learning tool, copying is worthwhile and productive, a step toward discovering your own voice and skills and abilities.

Can you think of other examples of learning by copying?

It's a Good Infection

Don't you love it when things you read or hear from a variety of sources end up having the same message?  Sometimes I wonder if it is just because I am already thinking along those lines that I "see" the same thoughts in something I am reading.  In this case, two authors from totally different genres and perspectives used exactly the same term, but illustrating it a bit differently: Brenda Ueland wrote If You Want To Write in 1938; still in print today, still considered a classic go-to book for writers.  Mere Christianity, by C.S. Lewis, also still in print and considered a classic in Christian literature and theology, was written in 1943. Miss Ueland's book is more toward the liberal, artistic, creative self-expression side.  C.S. Lewis writes with intellectual, logical expression, and seeks to glorify and honor the Lord Jesus Christ with his life and words.
Their common subject? Infection.  We can catch (and share) good things as well as bad things from others.

Miss Ueland's chapter, Art is Infection, quotes quite a bit from Tolstoy.  How am I to condense Tolstoy and Ueland (and C.S. Lewis) into a short blog post?

 "Art is infection.  The artist has a feeling and he expresses it and at once this feeling infects other people and they have it too," said Tolstoy.  When Miss Ueland taught her writing classes, she told her students, "...if you want to write, for example, about a man who is suffering from boredom, just quietly describe what your own feelings are when you have been bored.  Don't say the boredom was 'agonizing, excruciating,' unless your own boredom was, which is doubtful." 
 "I saw in their writing how whenever a sentence came from the true self and was felt, it was good, alive, it infected one no matter what the words were, no matter how ungrammatical or badly arranged they were.  But when the sentence was not felt by the writer, it was dead.  No infection."

This reminds me of an art lesson we had once.  If you are attempting to draw an eye, it is natural for us to draw the image we see in our head.

 To convey a true eye, an artist would draw every shadow, shade, line, wrinkle, hair, reflection of light, color, shape and freckle that would appear as the true-to-life eye of a specific person or animal, not a preconceived concept.

Don't you want to melt when you look at these eyes?

Or laugh when you look at these?

C.S. Lewis calls his chapter, Good Infection. He says, "Good things as well as bad, you know, are caught by a kind of infection. If you want to get warm you must stand near the fire: if you want to be wet you must get into the water. If you want joy, power, peace, eternal life, you must get close to, or even into, the thing that has them. They are not a sort of prizes which God could, if He chose, just hand out to anyone.  They are a great fountain of energy and beauty spurting up at the very center of reality. If you are close to it, the spray will wet you: if you are not, you will remain dry. Once a man is united with God, how could he not live forever? Once a man is separated from God, what can he do but wither and die?"

" He [Jesus] came to this world and became a man in order to spread to other men the kind of life He has--by what I call 'good infection.'"

Infection is a term we tend to think of in preconceived terms, catching something we do not want.  These authors and thinkers use infection as a good thing, something we want to spread to others, whether it is art, as in a drawing or the written word; or in our faith in the Lord Jesus, wanting to infect others with the love and joy and peace of the Lord.
Catch something good today. Draw close to the Lord, absorb some of His joy and peace and love. Look around you and see, really see the people and scenes.  Feel the emotions, not in a generic sense, but as perceptively as you can.

This is getting long, but one more thing.  Michael Hyatt, an author, and the Chairman of Thomas Nelson, a Christian publishing company, has a website available to bloggers using social media. Bloggers read the new books and write a review to post on their personal blogs, twitter or facebook.  As they looked for an appropriate, catchy title, the publishers came up with this phrase,

                          "Great Books are Contagious."

                            Their website?     BookSneeze.com

A HUGE thank you to littlebitzofart for her articulate drawings.
littlebitzofart.blogspot.com
littlebitzofart.deviantart.com