Ketchup, May 1 2019

I woke up early from a bad dream about a slowdown on the highway, due to a probably fatal accident involving buggies. We couldn't see the worst of it, but in absurd dream fashion there was a swipe of literal ketchup on the asphalt. 

The Facts, April 29 2019

The day was tough overall. Sermon mentioning J, shot to death before he reached the island. The debate about whether or not he should have been there at all. Then over lunch, feeling irritated and even repulsed. Thinking about puppets, Creation museums, and a curled moustache.
Of course I was further disgusted with myself.

I had to stop watching TV later, just too ugly. WHY IS IT ALL SO BROKEN? Does all this really fit, God?
Why is it Your beautiful powerful gracious ways can suddenly look so narrow and unfair? Unrealistic? Eternal damnation? Fear of facts? Shouldn't we be able to observe all the data and see You? In the human body, in creation? Please protect and guard my mind, keep me from hiding and rotting there. Truth-seeking means being vulnerable and receptive, not wailing in fear. Let what stands, stand. I want real truth, after all.
I read a few O'Connor stories yesterday, which might seem correlated, but it was surprisingly comforting. A part of me resonates with O'Connor. 

The Unicorn Store, April 26 2019

We watched "The Unicorn Store", which was very weird and yet refreshing, like Wes Anderson, because anything could happen, including something pithy and tender, in all the bizarre and stagey absurdity.
If B is as young as she looks, I hope she keeps going and doesn't give up. "The most grown-up thing you can do is fail at things you really care about".

Also, I liked Virgil a lot. The scenes with him in them were all good. 

The Same Splayed Tumbling, April 22 2019

Shortly before we stopped in Connecticut a canada goose flew into the side of our borrowed SUV and wiped out under the rows of cars behind us. I looked back and saw him rolling, flopping neck and straggled plumage, knocked off the road to the shoulder. It was horrible. And it brought me back to the cardinals that spring, 14 or so years ago, on the way to the test. The same innocent beauty and complete annihilation by the machine. The same splayed tumbling. 

Three Dreams, April 24th 2019

The first night in Milford I dreamed about women on a big screen drawing on themselves seductively with magic markers. The second night I dreamed the toilets at church were all clogged and overflowing, so before I could use one I needed to clean up (then someone walked by and saw me cleaning and I felt incriminated). Last night I dreamed children in the stadium followed me around, wanting me to be their mother. That was the best dream. 

Rich and Deep and Bold, March 23 2019

I've just been reading in Writing Poems, so engrossed. And remembering things I forgot, and remembering things I still don't remember - terms I can't define.
So many terms...like lanky water birds beating the air and lifting.

I painted very little today, but I think I finished the boring piece and made it interesting. I composed it with colors I picked out intuitively at Home Depot three weeks ago. I realized all the colors where deep and bold. No neutrality, no sweet pastels, no glaring jewel tones. Rich and deep and bold. Even the green was passionate.

I met N today, and explained the painting "Bleeding Hearts". She shared some of her poems and drawings in a carefully stapled book, made of copy and construction paper. They were angsty, the work of a teenager, and I was so proud. And I couldn't do them justice. 

Earthy Day, March 18 2019

This morning I sneezed and my lips split in two places.
Felt very earthy today. Unspiritual. In the sense of, not feeling motivated to do anything difficult. Not feeling purposeful or particularly hopeful. Begging to be distracted, to procrastinate. But the day was still shot through with grace.
Or punctured and plugged with grace, like garlic in mutton.

I managed to paint in the morning, even with a late start. And class was so sweet. We made good headway. I copied an amaryllis bud with the leftover puddles of paint, and it turned out OK.
I made mujadara, and almost cried over the aroma. I took a walk down to the hollow before dinner. I wrote friends, I remembered the anniversary.

I've been screen-hungry, impatient. But thank You for helping me reach toward You anyway. Please satisfy me on Yourself. Help me live each day with Temperance and Fortitude.