|a bird's nest in a bare tree, a blossoming tree, flowers in unexpected places, denim coloured mountains, |
are images of hope to me
My favourite colour is purple. I like most colours, except that I'm not too fond of yellow. I'm a teacher, a student, a wife and a step-mom to four young adult-ish kids. My favourite room is my craft room. I like to play with photography, paper, scrapbooking, book and card making. Thanks for checking out my blog!
Sunday, November 27, 2011
I worked on this page in my faith art journal in August and September. When my faith journalling group got together, we started out with reading some different lines of scripture. Then we did a 12 minute free write, where we wrote whatever was on your mind. Then we tried to make a visual page of what came to mind. We also wrote a found poem, choosing lines and phrases from our 12 minute write and put them into a poetic form.
|pg 1, with a pocket for the writing I did|
|pg 2, Dominican homes|
Fear not, for I have redeemed you;
I have summoned you by name;
You are mine.
Twelve minutes of writing. Three minutes of percolating over a verse. FEAR NOT...why is it that I always find fear when I face new things? Unknown things? Things that I chose for myself and put into motion and things that I long for and am glad for, but still, there is FEAR when I think of starting something new.
This verse talks about being redeemed and that is the reason not to fear. It talks about being SUMMONED by name and that is the reason not to fear...God says “You are mine, Joan.” That is the reason not to fear. It doesn’t talk about absence of things to be afraid of. It just says “You are mine. I have called you by name. I have redeemed you. Fear not.”.
Names- it was in Nigua that people called me by my nickname- for that is how they knew me. The look on their face when they saw me coming down the path to their house with Rafaelito...saying, “Yo si se quien es que me viene a visitar...es PINCHIE!” Normally I cringe at being called that name of my childhood, but on that day it was special. It was tender and endearing and reminded me of this strong connection I have with this person, this place.
Why is it that I get so emotional when I start telling the stories of our trip? How will I share in front of a larger crowd? It is the feeling of being so full, full of joy, full of memories, full of remembrances that spill out of my eyes and trembles my voice. I don’t want to hide that feeling, but I want to be able to share it in a way that can be understood. Do tears help us to be understood by others? Do fears and tears unite us in deeper ways than language?
I loved the homes of the DR- the vibrant colours, the clean floors made of dirt, the wooden windows, open to the outside, the front room for visiting, with lace curtains hanging. I am trying to remember the visuals of my photos...did I take too many? Should I experience more of the moment instead of hiding behind the lens all the time, trying to capture moments to look at later instead of really seeing it in the now? Pink and green walls, blue and white walls, brown no paint walls. Always motorcycles buzzing by.
face new things
I long for
the reason not to fear.
You are mine.
Tender and endearing.
full of joy,
full of remembrances
that spill out of my eyes and tremble my voice.
Do fears and tears unite us in deeper ways than language?
Vibrant colours of home
experience more of the moment
see it in the now
Always motorcycles buzzing by.