REDONDOWRITER'S SACRED ORDINARY

What Does This Image Say to You?

What does this photograph evoke in you? Head thrown back, this young woman looks to the sky, arms open; she seems to be emerging from cracked, arid ground and is surrounded by ethereal white light. Is she transcending into the all that is? Or is she a being, long buried in a literal or figurative tomb, who has been just released? Does this image portray some kind of liberation, or does it feel hellish somehow? These are all thoughts I’ve had as I stare at this image.

She appeared in an old 1999 StockPhoto Inc. catalog I purchased at the library sale on Monday. These catalogs, once subscribed to by graphic art and advertising firms, now primarily sell their images via the Internet. As for me, since I do not sell my collage art, I do use them for many of my art pieces including SoulCollage cards.

But this particular image has me captivated and I continue to gaze at her and periodically free write about the emotions that she stirs in me. And I think of the photographer, unknown to me, who took the photo and then probably manipulated it in PhotoShop. What vision did he or she have? Namaste, unknown photographer. Thank you.

Remember I wrote that the crucified bronze Christ fell off my bedroom sick-call cross on Ash Wednesday? In that entry, I say that I want to replace Him with a more positive image of a risen Christ and I’ve been searching for just the right image. I thought maybe this might be the one. I actually scanned this image and cut it out, wondering if this could be replacement of the bronze Christ. But when I placed her against the old carved mahogany cross worn smooth by my mother-in-law’s fingers as she suffered with her last illness in 1980, it seemed blasphemous. I am trying so hard to think out of the box artistically with my art and journals, but her place is not on that cross.

By the way, in the SoulCollage process, Seena Frost does say in her book that sometimes an image becomes the card itself without any additional collage. This might be the case.

So, again I ask you, what does this image evoke in you? How, if at all, would you use this image in a piece of art? I actually feel like she is trying to say something only I haven’t quite made out the words yet.

Are Today's Young People More Narcissistic Than Earlier Times?

Narcissus by Caravaggio courtesy of Web Gallery of Art.

Are today’s college students more narcissistic than in year’s past? Yes according to Jean Twenge, the lead writer of a study released by San Diego State University. She spoke today with commentator
Alex Chadwick on NPR and I really have been thinking about it ever since. Having had my teenage grandchildren in the house these past years, I definitely can compare what I observed in my own three adult children when they were adolescents—and what my own young adult life was like. Times are very, very different now.

Twenge says that college students today are more narcissistic and self-centered than a generation ago. Students' scores on the study's Narcissistic Personality Inventory have steadily risen since the test was introduced in 1982. In their study, researchers trace the phenomenon back to the "self-esteem movement" that began in the 1980s. And, they say, young people's self-regard is fueled by current technologies such as MySpace and YouTube.

Twenge goes on to say that study psychologists worry the trend, attributable to the influences of schools, media and parents, could be harmful to personal relationships and American society. The study says narcissists are more likely to have short-lived romantic relationships and lack empathy. If you click the above link, a college senior was next interviewed on NPR who refutes these findings.

I know that when I left college after two years in 1958 to marry, it didn’t occur to me to be outwardly self-centered. I kept it well hidden, even from myself. Most everyone I knew in the small L.A. suburb of Sunland were raised by working class parents and few people lived in mansions or had a lot of material goods. Most of us merely aspired to at least live better than their own parents had. Most of my classmates went into the trades or clerical-type positions—and some became teachers, business people, nurses. All I knew was that I had been taught that it was my job to marry and raise children. Higher education wasn’t prized as much then as it was now. It was only after my kids were raised that I became very self-centered and completed my higher education. I wouldn’t doubt that my drive for higher education and ideas of liberation played into the ultimate demise of my marriage.

When I look back, I know I was often carrying internal anger (therefore often depressed) at feeling like I was “less than” and in retrospect I suppose that is just another face of narcissism. Therapy, self-help (particularly CoDependents Anonymous) and spiritual support has helped me enormously to get perspective in my later years. And now I near 70 and largely my life does revolve around me—if I let it. That’s why I continue to work and why I am carefully adding volunteer activities to my spare time. It’s also why dating has become a total turn-off for me. Most men my age still want that traditional woman who will cater to their every need—and I’ve had way too much freedom the past 22 years. After only a short time spent with a man, I begin to feel trapped, like I can't breathe.

What was it like for you and what do you think about today’s young people being classed as more narcissistic than times past? We're talking about the future of the planet according to Twenge. Is it too late already?

Jesus's Lost Tomb: Discovery Documentary

Photo courtesy of the Discovery Channel

Tonight Larry King interviewed the documentary producers--James Cameron and director Simcha Jacobovici-- whose documentary, “The Lost Tomb of Jesus,” will air on the Discovery Channel on Sun., March 4, 9 p.m., ET/PT. A religion professor and a Baptist minister were going head to head when I turned it off. Needless to say, this documentary is causing a sensation in the Christian, academic archeology communities. It is a family tomb which, if it could be proved to be the “real” thing, would cause great controversy.

At the Discovery site it says that evidence, including DNA analysis conducted at one of the world's foremost molecular genetics laboratories, as well as studies by leading scholars, suggests a 2,000-year-old Jerusalem tomb could have once held the remains of Jesus of Nazareth and his family.

I know I will definitely watch this even though it will probably be debunked. But, even if it were proved that Jesus had siblings, a wife and a children of his own, and even if they proved Jesus’s bones had been in the tomb (all remains were removed when the tomb was first found in 1980), it would not shake my faith—not even remotely. In fact, if anything, it would strengthen it.

So, I’ll watch and draw my own conclusions. And you?

And the Oscar Goes To---

For a person who doesn’t watch a lot of TV, the Academy Awards are my big blow-out marathon of the year. Some people say, "You take the time to watch that?" Yeah, it's when I let the kid in me come out big-time. I started watching about 3:30 p.m. on KABC on the little black and white TV in my kitchen as I was cooking for my family tonight—red spaghetti sauce, meatballs, salad, garlic toast. And while I was at it, I cleaned out my refrigerator.

By then the red carpet had started in earnest so I went to watch it on DirecTV and was amazed by the color of the spectacular gowns. Everything seemed much more classy this year than some years, and I thought Ellen DeGeneres did a good job holding things together, but there’s so little time for a host to really make comedy. Weren’t those dancers in silhouette fascinating? During the marathon watching that followed, I sorted a pile of magazines and books I use for collage so as much as anything, the Oscars were more a background. I was particularly moved by the musical tribute to composer Ennio Marricone. It’s funny how we all know that music they featured so well, but I certainly never knew the man. And that Clint Eastwood is such a class act. And I was pleased to see Al Gore's An Inconvenient Truth win for best documentary and Melissa Ethridge's song I Need to Wake Up from the film.

There isn’t anyone among us who doesn’t know that the entire industry is make-believe, but it’s kind of like going to Disneyland for grown-ups. How anyone can keep their values and stay married is totally miraculous given how much tragedy we’ve seen in the last months with some idols and stars. KABC’s Oscars has some wonderful pictures up already, the acceptance speeches and film clips. What a high it must be to win an Oscar—but I have to say with all sincerity, I’m so glad I’m not famous. I sure wanted to be when I was young, but giving up your right to freedom and privacy wouldn’t be worth the trade-off of being rich and famous. But, hey, every time I have seen famous people up close and personal, I’ll admit I’m a little dazzled. But like my daddy used to say, "Frances, they put their pants on one leg at a time."

So, if you watched, which dresses did you like best? I liked many of them, but especially Jodi Foster's, Celene Dion's, and Helen Mirren's.

Random Thoughts on Saturday Night

It's hard for me to write the past few days and I've noticed a pattern. On the three days I work away from home, I have more grist for the mill, so to speak, and because my time is structured, I stay after work usually and do some writing for Sacred Ordinary.

Then there are my days at home where my time is loosely structured and I seem to get fewer things done. I start puttering around the house, the garden, I meet friends for coffee or a meal, I socialize some, I work on art projects, and I read. I admit I read a lot. Now I'm almost finished with Alice Hoffman's latest, "Skylight Confessions," and when I read Hoffman, I'm totally mesmerized. Her work is magical and her characters are quirky. Then bedtime rolls around and I'm not as inclined to get immersed on the computer. Tonight I curled up with a blanket on the sofa, read, and then mindlessly watched Robin Williams's RV. Lightweight to be sure, but Robin makes me laugh just looking at him. I'm also pulling out lots of books on stamping and paper arts and trying to thumb through past issues of Somerset, Legacy and Cloth, Paper and Scissors.

My grandson and I had a nice, non-threatening talk late this afternoon. He didn't come home last night, nor did he call. The calling is key here--and I got little sleep. I don't care whether he comes home or not, frankly. Just let me know. I called him at work and he was contrite. I try not to take these kinds of things personally. Though still in high school, he's 18, for God's sake. He's old enough to fight for our country, but not old enough to drink legally. He swears he is not being disrespectful--he simply doesn't even think of it. I think of my own adolescent-raising years and not being able to sleep until everyone was home safe and sound. My ex? He snored away and didn't even worry one bit until the middle of the night, get me out of trouble calls came. He was great in a crisis. I did not worry about my adult kids when they were away at college or when they were trekking across Europe. But, when they returned home to live, which they all did periodically until they settled down, I couldn't sleep until I knew they were safely home at night. Mothers/grandmothers must be hard-wired like that, or else I'm just neurotic--and there are those who certainly think I am. I like to think I'm not overly controlling, but there are those who say I am that, too. Anyhow, Anthony turns 19 on July 29 and he told me today that he plans to move out after that. He says he is trying not to think of the future right now--he's trying to live life a day at a time. I can certainly remember the days when a week revolved around the parties and social things happening on the weekends--when everything was high drama. Now--staying home, cozy, warm, relaxed is beginning to feel better and better. I am beginning to understand how many older people just want to be in their own homes with their own things.

Wherever you are, whatever you are doing, I hope you are warm even if it's snowing outside, and that have some things to be grateful for tonight. I know I sure do!

A Leak-Free Day of Gratefulness

My week goes something like this. On Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays I work 7 hours a day at my school so that time is very focused. I usually have Friday through Mondays for my “at home” and “community” activities. Sometimes I think I have the best of all worlds, especially for someone my age who still is perky, wants to learn new things, keep time structured, and have a sense that I’m doing at least a little to make the world a better place.

Very little to write about tonight because I’m happy to report that no “drama” has played itself out today. Or at least I didn’t perceive and react to any of the “negative” things I observed or heard about with any of my knee-jerk, leap into the train-wreck behavior.

More than anything I feel grateful. Grateful for:

• It rained today—not a lot, but enough for me to know that my roof over my bedroom does seem to be sealed. No leaks so far—and more rain is predicted for tomorrow. Glory halleluia! A round of blessings for the consultant and the two roofers who worked yesterday.

• It appears as though I will be attending a two week archive training at San Diego State University sponsored by the California State Archivists the last of June. I will stay in the dorms as I used to do with my summer students at Columbia University—only it will be all adults. Though I hate to be gone for two whole weeks, especially from Cookie, I really am excited about learning more about the electronic end of preservation—and not that far from home.

• I finished The Memory Keepers Daughter and it was a compelling read. Now I’m back to “When Things Fall Apart” by Pema Chodron. How fortunate I am to have such excellent libraries nearby.
  

• Tomorrow I meet an old friend for lunch and tomorrow night I meet my daughter and granddaughter for dinner. I want to try and play out these four days with as much mindfulness as I can muster—and to be alert to synchronicites.

This reminds me. Have you ever been to Gratefulness.org? There are a lot of interesting links there including audio of Brother David Steindl-Rast whose work I find inspirational. 

And what’s on your plate for the next days?

 

Broken Crucifix Kicks Off a Lenten Journey

Ah, synchronicity! Tonight I went across the street to Christ Church for the Ash Wednesday service which is the first time I’ve had the imposition of ashes in an Episcopal Church. Though the songs and the readings were largely pretty grim, the sermon, by our newly ordained priest Fr. Bill, was relevant to today—about his experiences with gardening. It was about breaking up soil covered with concrete to prepare to design and build a sacred garden which he actually once did when he was a chaplain in Texas. He used the symbolism of our hearts being surrounded by concrete.

When I came home, Holy Spirit got my attention quickly. First of all, there was a message from my sister in Washington and my brother-in-law has been moved to a nursing facility after 10 days in the hospital near death. His prognosis is not good (progressive supranuclear palsy or PSP), but he’s lucid, much improved, and she hopes he will be able to come home with an around-the-clock caregiver. She misses him desperately. I wrote about them in my Valentine’s Day entry.

Next, I moved my plethora of buckets which have been shuffled in and out of my bedroom all winter because the roofer hasn’t been able to detect a major leak. I finally had a pricy consultant come in and today the roofing company sent two men with report in hand, color photos guiding their every move, and honestly, all day I’ve been praying for their success. I am totally paranoid about my chronically fixed--and then leaking--roof. Now get this. As I moved the largest bucket, I knocked down the sick call crucifix which had been my dear mother-in-law’s prized possession and which was used by the priest in her final illness. It is very precious to me. On it is the traditional bronze nailed Christ and when you open the cross, the candles and oils for anointing are inside. Well, Christ broke away from the hand-carved wood and fell in the bucket. I was shocked. I retrieved Him and immediately assessed the damage. Perhaps He was glued, but it looks like three small nails held Him on--and they are not in the bucket. Silly me hears this voice whispering, "Don't nail me back on--please."

I am not big on crucifixes, frankly, and I kind of stood there stunned. And then all of a sudden I remembered that this Lent I have wanted to focus on a risen Christ not a crucified one. Can a sign be much more concrete than this? I don’t know exactly what art I’m going to make out of this crucifix, but I know that a Lenten project will be to incorporate SoulCollage and a glorious risen Christ on my late mother-in-law's crucifix. It's a beautiful, old object. Any suggestions?

Then I went to the computer and keyed in meaning of Lent and instantly came to a blog I have never seen in my life: "Maggi Dawn: Anglican priest thinking out loud about theology, life and faith." She’s a chaplain in England apparently.

She has several entries on Lent already posted and will apparently write more as the 40 days pass. This paragraph of hers popped out of one entry: "Lent - it's supposed to be good for the body AND the soul. It's supposed to simplify your life for a while, giving you time and money to re-focus. It's not supposed to feed your vanity by taking off a dress size, but to give you the space to rediscover the true value of life, framed by a fresh vision of God. What part of your consumer lifestyle will you give up, for a while, to get your life into a new gear?"

Between going to church, hearing the good news about my brother-in-law, having the roof hopefully successfully repaired (and so it is!), un-nailing Christ from his cross, and finding Maggi Dawn, it has been a very interesting Ash Wednesday evening.

Holding Cross Brings Me Comfort

Today is Shrove or Fat Tuesday and the six weeks of Lent begins tomorrow. While they were getting down and dirty in New Orleans, after work I went to the Episcopal Church I attend across the street from my house and helped prepare for the annual Shrove Tuesday Pancake supper. I am not ready to get active in a church again, but this parish is so small, that it feels more like a family to me. I'm such a hybrid Christian, but I'm quick to say to people who argue that I can't be a Christian because of my "heretical" beliefs, I tell them I can be--and that I am.

At St. Cross after Sunday’s service, there were some religious articles for sale to benefit the outreach programs of the church—and I, at last, was able to see, feel—and consequently buy—a wooden holding cross. I first heard about them when the delegates returned from the Episocopal Convention last year.

On my nightstand are two rosaries and because I am an insomniac and can use all the help I can get to get to sleep, I hold a rosary as I prepare to sleep and I begin to chant the prayers. The repetitiveness usually puts me to sleep, but the holding cross was originally designed for shut-ins and people in their final stage of life. The smoothness of the cross and its shape (to conform with hands) appealed to me. I have been holding the cross the last two nights as I have fallen asleep saying my own set of mantra- like prayers and rubbing my fingers across the smooth South African padauk wood. Lately, as I have been observing objects, my possessions, the food I eat, I’m so aware of the process and the people who have made it all possible. At the Holding Cross company, a family owned business, run by Jack and Carol Scott in Texas, it says:

"Carol had been ministering and serving as a Hospice and Nursing Home volunteer for over a decade. Jack had been making wooden crosses for many ministries (Cursillo, Kairos, Walk to Emmaus and others) for over a decade.

But God had a plan for a ministry and a cross … In the fall of 2001, Carol came home after one of her Hospice visits and shared with Jack a “need” to bring something to her patients … something that could be held, something that was meaningful and something that “felt good”. A traditionally shaped cross was not the answer as we discovered hands that did not work “right” any more. Hands that were crippled with age or Arthritis had lost their grip and had difficulty holding on to anything. And so, The HoldingCross was born.

Ministering to the body of Christ, we have made over 60,000 crosses and other gifts. Many of these items have been used in ministries in the United States such as Kairos Outside, Kairos Inside, Cursillo, Walk to Emmaus, Via de Christo, Hospice care, nursing home visits, Halfway houses, children’s homes, church services, Sunday schools and small groups.

The HoldingCross™ has also been used in fund raising activities by missionaries, pre-schools, churches and youth groups. Hospitals and Funeral Homes are embracing The HoldingCross™ as a way of reaching out to those who need “something to hold on to”. Our crosses are used in over 11 denominations and have found their way to over 14 countries in the world!

Many of our designs are simple and traditional. Others are unique and have been crafted as the Spirit leads. Using wood from around the world is a testimony to the abundance and beauty of God’s creation. We make all of our crosses in our Frisco, Texas workshop. Each individual piece tells a story of His majesty and reminds us of His promises to us. We are a family business dedicated to serve the Lord through the ministry of the cross. We work with wood to make crosses. Our crosses are cut, shaped, sanded and sculpted to bring out the natural beauty our Lord gave each piece. Each cross takes time. Every cross is prayed for. All of our crosses are crafted with care and love. Every cross will be unique and different because the wood, grain, color and contour are considered when working the wood with care to preserve the simple natural beauty of the piece.

We usually have between 50 and 60 woods from around the world in our inventory, however not all of the woods listed are in stock all of the time. We have pictures of HoldingCrosses in most of the woods available on our 'HoldingCrosses' page.

There are many stories of changed lives that we can share. You might take a look at our 'Testimonials' page. Many customers send in wonderful God stories and compliments of the fruits of our labor. These stories are but a sampling of the movement of the Holy Spirit testifying of Jesus who points to and glorifies the Father.

There were about 20 crosses in various colors and kinds of wood available for sale at church, but my own, made of South African Padauk, jumped out at me because of its amazing orange color. The cross’s tag says that with age and light its color does darken to a beautiful burnt umber. The wood is moderately dense, much like red oak to work with.

New Journal Readies Me for Spring

This was a weekend when I left my craft table and supplies up for the whole 3 days and accomplished, or worked on, several projects. I'll post about some of them over time.

This is the front of my new journal. I only have about 20 pages left in the current one and I want to be ready to pop right into the new one when the time comes.

This is the back cover of the journal. I use Canson 9 x 12" sketch pads and then I introduce several elements in layers and finishes. What struck me about these images, which are chosen very intuitively, is the woman sculptress, who like Michaelangelo, knows that the statue is inside the marble, or in this case, wood. On the back cover I grinned from ear to ear with the image of the pregnant mommy and her little girl. Spring is near and I am easing into new beginnings.

You know how you say to watch what you pray for--or what, in metaphysical and quntum physics terms, is law of attraction? I've seen it work again and again, but if you aren't extremely specific, you get some surprises. As many of you know, I volunteer at the Malaga Cove Library once-a-month book sales and I serve on an advisory board there. When Gene, Friends of the Library president, heard I made and kept journals, he came out with a half dozen journals from small to large ones and gave them to me gratis. He said they don't sell. I will ultimately collage them and use them for gifts for friends who I know enjoy writing. I'm trying very hard to make more and more of my gifts these days.

Want to Take a Walk With Me?

The temperature dropped 20 degrees today and I was amazed that the boundless energy I felt yesterday when it was brightly sunny and 80 degrees, dipped dramatically. I really had to discipline myself to keep moving as the bear in me wanted to go back into hibernation. I went to church in the morning and later continued working on several art projects in various stages. I finally retreated to my "nest" (the bed) with my journal and a book--The Memory Keepers Daughter. About 4 p.m. I talked myself into taking Cookie for a walk. I took the camera and decided I needed to see more deeply than the surface I was tempted to stay on. I know spring is near, although all of you in the midwest and East are probably wondering.

I started with the spot of color on my own patio, what I call my St. Francis corner featuring primroses, an azalea and begonias. By the time I took this photo, the sky was cloudy and the wind was blowing the wind chimes. Rain is due tonight (and the roofer hasn't finished my leak yet).

The common courtyard of my seven-unit townhouse has several planters and pots filled with spring flowers; this is the one that is a riot of color.

And off Cookie and I went for our walk. She was especially fascinated by all the lawns we passed by. Not only did she mark each one, she rolled and rolled--and then ate a lot of grass. I jerked the leash when she started munching some narcissis sprouts in one yard. This was a bird of paradise in front of a townhouse complex a few blocks away. This flower's complexity and what I call minimalism has always fascinated me.

My across-the-street neighbor's house always has incredible flowers and the daffodils are in full bloom. This is the yard Cookie got skunked in on an evening walk a few months ago.

My own fuschias are just beginning to bud, but this hanging one in a neighbor's yard reminds me that spring really is on the way.

This is the building next door to me, which is in escrow. It's a historic building built in the 1920s so we are hoping against hope it won't be a teardown like so many of the houses in Redondo Beach. This was originally one home, but it features upstairs and downstairs apartments. In the back is a small guesthouse, so if it's a teardown (hope, hope, hope it isn't), the lot is large enough for at least four to six townhouses. The top floor of this building has commanding ocean views.

My own home was the original site of the Seventh Day Adventist Church, which moved to Torrance; they sold it in the late 1970s and an apartment house and my building came into being. When I take a walk, like I did today, I feel an immense sense of gratefulness that I have the privilege of living in Redondo Beach, where I longed to live for so many years. Thanks heavens I bought in 1987 as like so many of us these days, I wouldn't be able to afford to live here.

So--thanks for coming along on Cookie's and my walk. It's always more fun with a friend than alone. Oh--I also had a teleconference with my eldest son Joe, his wife, and baby Zachary in Pt. Angeles, WA after my walk. Zach is just beginning to walk and he doesn't look like a baby anymore. Thank God for modern technology so a far-away grandma can stay in touch.