Really struck by the ‘a little while’ phrase in the reading from John’s gospel in morning prayer [Friday 15.2.19]. The disciples asked ‘What does he mean by this “a little while”?..’ I wanted to write the whole thing out (John 16:16-22), and draw. (Also, and not that inspiration is directly linked to the number of notebooks used, this was a three notebook – and one heron – Friday morning!)
I noted these particular lines of Walt Whitman a few years ago, they vary in different editions of ‘song of myself’, I love them. Earlier it felt like today was precariously balanced (indications of things unravelling a little), its picked up since but I was reminded of Walt’s assurance of what God carries, and what he carries us through.
“And slept while God carried me through the lethargic mist, And took my time….and took no hurt from the foetid carbon. “
Anthony of Egypt, died 356, remembered by the church 17th January. Anthony went into the desert, lived in solitude, prayed, and contended with the devil and his temptations. Notebook page I made an image of Anthony on, as I see him and after I read about him today, also another rough painting of him in prayer.
This evening, as well as a little ticket recycling doodle, a notebook painting after looking online at Piero della Francesca’s Baptism of Christ. The Baptism of Christ was marked yesterday, the first Sunday after Epiphany. Before ordination I went to the National Gallery specifically to see della Francesca’s painting but it and others in that room had been removed, for the walls to be repainted I think. I’m really looking forward to going again soon to spend some time looking at it. Here’s a couple of verses from yesterday’s gospel reading: Now when all the people were baptised, and when Jesus also had been baptised and was praying, the heaven was opened, and the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” Luke 3:21-22
Yesterday’s gospel reading in the mid-week Eucharist was Mark 6:45-52, something made me feel like I was hearing it for the first time. It wasn’t the walking on water so much as all the details that wrap around it. The whole passage made me think of the strangeness of certain works of art, like one of Paul Nash’s strange landscapes, but more than this. I painted some notebook pages. Not so strange but about the mountain he walked up, the land, and the water he walked on.
Hello, on the 1st July 2018 I was ordained a Deacon in St Albans Cathedral and began work as assistant curate in the parish of St Mary the Virgin, Ware. I’m also a former teacher, an ex-art student, and a proud father.