Wednesday, June 29, 2005
I am thirty nine today. My beard has a lot of grey in it. I groan whenever I move. I have taken to long periods of time in the toilet, which I now call the library. I complain about the "new music" and the "new looks". And I am grumpy a lot. I guess I am officially old.
But then again, I am actively trying to learn a new sport. I am possibly going to fight again. I have an insane hope that we can actually make this world a better place, and end much of our poverty, violence, and stupidity. I think the church of Jesus can rise up and become what it was in the book of Acts. And I get a crazy thrill when I see good art, an amazing catch, someone stepping beyond themeselves to do something great, or someone finding something inside of themeselves that they didn't know was there.
I am getting older, more cynical, maybe even a little wiser, but I am also exciteable, enthusiastic and hopeful. If this is my midlife crisis, I hope it lasts a long time.
Anyone know where I can buy a Harley, and find a cute twenty year old?
Tuesday, June 21, 2005
All of my pieces all symbolize the wounds and scars that life places on all of us. But they also show how it is these flaws that makes us unique, and Gods redemptive purpose that makes these unique wounds become what makes us beautiful. Each of my paintings are just plaster on wood painted with coat after coat of acrylic paint, sanded with very fine paper, and then polished with a bare hand for sometimes hours to bring up a very strong shine. This symbolizes to me Gods constant polishing of us until we are a work of His art, unique, wounded, flawed, and made beautiful by his hand.
this one shows the sheen and texture of the pieces. My work doesn't photogragh really well, as it is very shiney, textured, and sculptural. It is also meant to be touched having been polished with the bare hand. When you see it you quite naturally want to touch them.
Wednesday, June 08, 2005
I began wondering what I would be like in those times.
I guess that someone who was a bullfighter, a punker, a repo man and a pro fighter as well as an artist, pastor, and counsellor would not be able to remain a tradesman or a farmer. I would have gotten into more trouble for sure. But in that brutal time what would I have become. I hope I wouldn't have been that crazy war monger. I kind hope I would be like the smiling priest. But, I also thought about why are we so discontent now.
I recognize I am uncomfortable here in this time. My strong passionate nature is often off putting. My love for battle is suspicious to many. Yet, I am an anarchist and believe that war is wrong and all about power and money. Where does one such as me fit? Where do you fit? Isn't the modern world difficult to navigate?
My wife was just telling me she feels sorry for men. They are meant to be a paradox now. They are supposed to be manly, yet feminine. They are not supposed to be the cave man, unless that is needed for the moment. We spend our life trying to get in touch with our sensitive nurturing sides, yet deep inside many of us crave the adventure, and rush of competition. That is why sports is so important to us.
So what do the warriors do?
I'll let you know when I figure it out. For now I will go to battle on the pitch, with my weapon a spinning cricket ball.
Upon arriving in heaven God said, well Tom, it is nice to finally have you here, but we need to find a place for you to stay. So he then takes Tom to visit all of the different neighborhoods of all of the different denominations, except one. After seeing them all, Tom say, "well God, they are all lovely places and it will be hard to choose which one to live in, but you didn't show me the (insert name of any church organization here) neighborhood"
"Well Tom, I can't show you that one, they think they are the only ones up here"