 Up to my waist in a tangle of brush and blooms, little room to move. Soaking wet from dew and sweat, I do what I need to do. Head down, plowing ground, the only sound I hear is branches breaking below as I move heavy and slow, to and fro, as long as it’s forward toward what, I don’t know. The noise of being still, of checking my will, is more than I can bear today. Raising my eyes in this wild place and facing the pleasant land in which He placed me to forage for all I need. If I pause in the thick of it, I just might lose me, and my way too. If I surrender to the lostness of my position, would You open my senses to what is good in every direction? “You are worried about many things, but only one thing is needed.”
36 x 36 in, mixed media painting  The daily special served up at the table is marred by what I see afar. The bigger, better, more seasoned fare. Does He care for me? All I see here pales in comparison to higher elevation. I’ll have what she’s having, even if it means a larger fee. Strive for a plate that’s not been set for me. Work. Earn to spend on what will still not fill. Serving up only hunger pangs. Yet, this table here, this one set in flint, has taken me spent and offered a meal that’s been paired with my need and delight. It’s the season’s harvest prepared to match my appetite for what will sustain. Remain, poor girl, listen to today’s special, and eat like a queen.
“Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which does not satisfy? Listen diligently to me, and eat what is good, and delight yourselves in rich food.” (Isaiah 55:2) Inspired by the colors of Spring that surround and cover Pedernal. 12 x 36 in, mixed media painting  These showstoppers turn heads as they flail their bold colored skirts and bat their dark eyes. The beauties stand on a golden stage, gathered together like sisters telling secrets.
20 x 20 in, mixed media painting  I know a girl who loves solitude, quiet, order, and mulling over all the things, all the time. She might be more like a cactus than any other thing that grows. But even loners need connection. As iron sharpens iron, so one sharpens another. When keeping to oneself is doing nothing more than creating a desert, that girl has to remember to gather, and there find an oasis of goodness. Even if it’s with other cactus companions. (2 Cor 7:5-6; Rom 15:24; 2 John 12:12)
16 x 16 in, mixed media painting 
From a source unseen. Hot, steam, rusting colors without decay. These waters move with life, energy, yet none can withstand its chemistry. The spring in view cannot be collected or held as it smolders the rock much older than itself. Seeping through bedrock, this Yellowstone gold is there for the taking, just making fools of us all, looking, smelling, but not containing. Moving slowing in long lines to a fountain we can't drink.
12 x 6 in, mixed media painting     We’ve seen you nestled there in the shadow with your impenetrable, thorny exterior. Couldn’t tell if you thought yourself superior or ill-fit among the wild grasses and rocks situated in your company. Day after day you’ve had nothing to say except to blend and extend some kind of movement in the wind of activity, letting us know you hear; that you’re still here. But I think you’ve been absorbing, observing, fleshing out all that’s been said. We thought you uncaring, but you’ve been preparing for a time to speak. Ideas and views you keep are coming to fruition in this heat. You’ve got our attention. In the exchange of same ol’ ideas, we are desperate for more, now you have the floor. Quiet! Something stunning is blooming.
12 x 36 in (triptych, each piece is 12 x 12 in) mixed media painting  Winds are changing, something in the air is rearranging. A season is half-heartedly giving up its ways and glory to another that will surely come. I am here, alone, in the shift, I think. Need to know which way to go. The sun rises and tallies the sum of what’s behind and before, like rocks scattered on the floor to the ends of the earth. Questions give birth to fear as I’m standing here wandering what may come with this new wind blowing. Casting stones at my inability to navigate on my own, I comb the ground for some sign of hope in a 360 view of a color-filled blur. Everything is moving in this wind except for one thing stacked and still. Someone has been here before. Someone has built this. Rocks, set on end, again, to remind. Up to this point and time after time, the cairns were positioned to point me in a way marked and kept. I am not left to navigate blindly. The wind behind me, whispering and pushing, shushing the noise and trembling over my skin. Moving forward until another Ebenezer is in sight again.
40 x 30 in, mixed media painting  Aside from being a deep-rooted fan of “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid” most of my life, I am in love with the movie’s scenery in all its Utah, Arizona, and Colorado settings. And there’s something about this pair of outlaws — their banter, risk-taking, and wild ideas — that make a great story. Wild West shenanigans, in law and out again, the pair had a history. A quick draw and a quick wit would find their fit together. Hole-in-the-wall schemes forged from one man’s vision. The other’s name and sure aim could match the mission and the well-thought out plans that spanned Colorado, Wyoming, Utah, Texas, and eventually, Bolivia. One dream after another to finally “go straight” ...or fill pockets when they were empty again.
36 x 36 in, mixed media painting     Last night was rough. We said the things that came to our heads without thinking. Your words stuck to me as you meant them to. The prickly way I spoke my mind, mostly unkind, pierced your skin right through. Bedded in pride we closed up for the night. But the sun is shaking us awake. Those eyes closed so tight and tense are opening with little defense as we take in the view. There is little contrast between me and you in this early light. The edges we pointed out so clearly at day's end now seem to blend into each other; and with no shadow there's nothing to cover. The morning washes out the doubt and fear of being near another. It's quiet conversation now, with surrender at its center. Tender. Mercies are new.
12 x 36 in (triptych, each canvas 12 x 12 in) mixed media painting  Hidden. Nothing to lure my attention. No distinction between the creature and its base, blended in place. Until it moves. Then like Adam, dust taking breath, earth comes to life from death and moves mysteriously across what is set and still. The moth has will. Different than everything around, from branch to ground. Its soft wings extended, casting shadow over a path of similar cover. Gifted a robe of splendid colors, unlike his brothers and many others, this one will journey exposed and protected. Over unsteady lichen or dead leaves, a night flight to distant trees, unaware of how many times death and injury was thwarted by the unseen favor that covered his fragile life. And I wonder about my own cover in a place that seems fitting, but not. The times I’ve felt exposed and caught in schemes, when You clothed this dreamer of dreams to fearlessly do what I was made to do.
(Genesis 37, 39-50) 24 x 30 in, mixed media painting |
