Wonderings

What makes pumpkins rot?
Why do kids want to touch everything?
How can a spider hang upside down from my ceiling?
Where do fruit flies come from?
How do I get paint on me and I wasn't even painting?
What makes a sweet potato sprout?

Where does stubbornness come from?
How do you laugh it off?

All the right answers

As I walked through the last two years, I have experienced many things I was taught could be healed through repentance and a greater devotion to God. For example, depression is a sin issue. You are thinking too much about yourself. Confess and get busy serving. And of course, panic attacks are a sign that worry has built a stronghold in your heart. Confess it and memorize a few verses. Prior to walking through these valleys myself, I would have used that exact counsel for others. Funny how an unexpected journey into depression and panic attacks can change one's perspective.

Last night I was reading a rough draft of a friend's book on pain. He shares some of his journey through Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, but then the preacher in him comes out. He holds out all the right answers for pain. Do this and God will do this. Believe this and you will be rewarded with this. I know that his faith is woven in a multicolored tapestry, but his answers read as just that. Answers.

In my own pain, my own valleys, I can't stomach someone with all the answers. I am drawn to those who will walk beside me living out the journey with me. Christians are not a lucky minority who happen to hold all the answers. Jesus is not a panacea for our pain. There are no magic pills to dull life's pain. But there is great comfort and strength in companionship, both earthly and heavenly.

Progress

There's something about putting my fears out there that shrinks them down somewhat. My studio is clean - or rather cleaner/neater than it was. I began cutting apart old sweaters and sewing the scraps together. I actually am liking the crazy quilt pattern more than I thought I would. Last night, I fell asleep dreaming of ways to incorporate this piece into a twin size quilt. How would I back it? What would I back it with? Batting?

I did find a monster in my studio, just as I feared. It reared its ugly head when I came across some artwork from college with my professor's comments. "You don't try hard enough. You are satisfied with the first solution." And I remembered. . . all the times the direction were handed out on a half sheet of paper, read to us, any questions were discussed and then the professor would leave the room. Occasionally, he would come back lean over my shoulder and grunt "interesting." That enigmatic word. Early in my studies I would ask what that meant. It was never defined. Did it mean good? bad? mediocre? Yes, I needed to try harder - but I also needed someone to set an example for me. I needed someone to stretch me. I needed someone to teach me to think.......to think with me, not think for me.

The Studio Monster

Cleaning up my studio intimidates me today - well, every day.

It's full of stagnant work. What do I do with it? Toss it? Pile it for later? Tear out the parts I like?

And then there's the issue of bugs. Several months back, my home was inumdated with spiders and roaches of various sizes, shapes and colors. I've sprayed and have been quite comfortable inhabiting the rest of the rooms in the house.

And I have quite a collection of finished work. Work that needs to move along. I have an Etsy account. Is it worth the trouble to organize my work, photograph it and sell it off? I guess the other option would be Goodwill and somehow that doesn't quite fit.

I do need to conquer my fear.

Head em up, move em out.

My creativity tank has been sitting on empty for the past couple of months. I have excused myself from the world of art due to the excessive strain placed on my creativity by teaching 630 art students each week. Excuses, excuses! No more. Time to move along, Cassidy.

My Art "to do" list:
1. Clean up the studio
2. Use the raw wool to make a hat.
3. Sew sweater blanket.
4. Continue with art journal.
5. Go on an art outing with myself.

Church

I visited church today. We (KC, Jerry and I) have been planning to do this for the last several weeks. It's time to meet new people.
Everything was fine - until we pulled in the parking lot. At that point, I pulled up my walls and ducked deep inside myself. Thoughts rolled around like: "too many people," "I don't know any of these people," "everyone's SO young."
Off we went. People said hi. They were all so close. Claustrophobia set in. I just wanted to watch. Where's my robe of invisibility? Who are these people? What do they think of me? All my senses were on alert. Everything was new.
The service was fine. Except the chairs. They were little and quite far apart. I was afraid that I would find the floor before I found the chair. Now why did I want to come to church? ah, to meet people - which I am afraid to speak to.
Next week, I have a deal with KC and Jerry. They can talk to whomever they like and I will people watch.
http://www.gracechurchsc.org/downtown-campus/

Extend

I'm still getting used to the idea that most people are able to extend grace because they have been given grace.

Yesterday, my sister showed up at my house in tears, hurting. Blistered by the tediousness of life and the salt of unkindness rubbed into the wound. The people surrounding her for the next nine months live in a paradigm of law. The system bends for no one. People forget how to extend grace or even a sliver of kindness when all they're handed is the law and its consequences.

I know. I was there both as a student and as faculty. It's easy to get caught up in the beauty of a black and white world. I found myself addressing every slight misdemeanor, anything that bordered on gray. I forgot how to extend grace. My peers seldom expressed it to each other, let alone to a student. It just wasn't done. God is holy. He is black and white. Banish the gray! became the unspoken motto. War rhetoric surfaced in our conversations.

Step outside the paradigm of the law to look inside. It's all so confusing. What's the big fuss over? Mountains arising from molehills. Redwoods being ignored in favor of splinters.

Oh, to step back from it all. Look up. Look around. Breathe in the multicolored breath of grace.