Matters of Life and Death: Intro

"Today I have given you the choice between life and death, between blessings and curses. Now I call on heaven and earth to witness the choice you make. Oh, that you would choose life, so that you and your descendants might live! Deuteronomy 30:19 (NLT)

I meet my mat, dripping with sweat, my muscles simultaneously exhausted and energized. This last pose, shavasana (literally corpse pose), is a welcome reprieve. Death is, after all, part of the cycle of life. As my own life has ebbed with changing tides recently, as the movement of breath in and out of my body mirrors the acceptance and letting go of circumstances, people, choices, I find I am met with matters of life and death. This theme of life and death has circulated through both my mind and spirit at least a few times each day.

When I rest my thoughts on life I think about hope and joy, fertility and growth. Life is synonymous with goodness and light. But death seems to darken my thoughts with its shroud of eternal finality. There is not much hope there; unless, of course, you are in Christ (Romans 81-5). Then death is simply a passage between earth and heaven.  Death, itself, doesn’t offer much other than the chance to contemplate what once was, all the things that have been.  And in the contemplation, it strips them away.

Isn’t that what sin does? Strips away life. And not only does death strip life from us, it strips it from those who will come after us.  Death is selfish. Regardless of religion, I believe sin can be defined as choosing death. It may not be that we will keel over on the spot, but there is a part of us that dies every time we choose sin. If it kills the spirit, if it depletes life, if it is death—it is sin. If it is sin, it is death. Sometimes the option of death seems welcoming, pleasurable even, but its destined finality is fatality.  Sometimes it is hard to tell it is death because it is disguised so well. I think that’s why I am learning to look more closely. Sometimes the choice obviously screams, “DEATH!” but we choose it anyway. We listen to the hissing, whispered echo from the Garden that “We will not surely die.” We believe a lie. We choose the moment rather than the forever simply because we want to.

The thing about death is, it’s easy. It requires nothing of us, except our life. Life takes work. Life asks us to be a part of it, to be present. It calls us to action. It calls us, at times to be selfless, to consider others needs and happiness and best interests before our own agenda.  And every day I am alive, I am given opportunity to choose between life and death. I can choose to drink goodness and blessing into my body or to take darkness and curses into it. The choice between life and death is always before me, before us.  I can choose to use words of encouragement or to speak poorly of someone. I can choose generosity of my resources or keep them greedily to myself. I can choose friendship toward the lonely or I can look the other way pretending not to see. I know I am not so perfect that I always choose life. But I hope that more often than not, I am choosing it. I hope that I am learning more and more to recognize life and be a part of it. I hope that heaven and earth witness more life in me than death.  I hope that my ”descendants might live.”

Nude Self-Portrait

I've purposely held off on painting this self-portrait until the end of the semester.

Today is the day. I am embarking on my first (not that there will be any others

kind of first, but I've never done this before kind of first) nude painting of 

myself.

Thanks to my anatomy and figure studio classes, I can practically paint naked

people with my eyes closed. My quick studies class, however, has stretched me, 

probably beyond what it ever intended. For all of the paintings on our 

assignments list, we have to provide the subject, be it still life, figure, animal, 

or furniture. My eyes scanned the list at the onset of the semester. Everything 

looked fairly easy to ascertain my own model or objects for...until landing on 

the "nude female" and "nude male" assignments. 

Without luck finding any response to my query on posing for a painting,

I decided I would paint myself for the "nude female". (As a side note, I

have yet to find a willing male, so if anyone's interested, let me know by

 the end of today. Really. I'm serious.)

I've done quite a number of self-portraits, but never one like this. 

Self-portraits are very humbling and almost cathartic in a way. With any 

portrait the goal is to capture the likeness of the person(s). This means looking

beyond their outward appearance and using elements of pose, gesture, color, 

value, and the like to render some of the personality into the brushstrokes, onto 

the canvas. It is the same with self-portraits. They force you to really look at yourself, 

to be honest with who you are in not only a physical, but also an emotional and 

mental capacity. It is somewhat spiritual to look at the outward reflection of your

inner being, and then to record what is there. 

Painting a self portrait forces you to be vulnerable and authentic with yourself. 

Especially when you are painting yourself stripped of clothing. You are left to 

discover and document the barest essence of yourself between the skin 

and muscle and bone. 

Here is mine...  

 
Nude Self-Portrait, 11x14 oil on artboard, 90 minutes

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Synonym for Love

The closest synonym I know to love is sacrifice. There is no room for selfishness in real love. Because love doesn't ask "What's in it for me?" or even, "How can I show this person I love them?" Rather, it asks, "What can I do to make this person's life better?" and "How will my actions make this person feel?" Love always considers the beloved.

We see the ultimate form of this love expressed in the passion of Christ. It is this act of seeking the good for another that continually binds two together as one. It is at the heart of a mother's love for her child. It is the reason a true friendship lasts forever. We were designed to love and be loved this way, but most of us settle for selfish, superficial, and fleeting leaving us always in search of the next "high" instead of being made whole through loving in a way that is sacrificial, transcendent, and eternal.

We watch as the mist ripples through air on the mountain. 
Whispers of fog settling in, an impending quarrel.
The sky refuses to show his face like some elusive lover. 
Earth, in an attempt to reconcile,
reaches her slender branches toward him from her weighted bluff, 
but he will not answer.

Different This Time

I thought it would be different this time. 

I thought I would look into your eyes and we would know.

I thought you would hold me forever 

and I wouldn’t give in so easily.

 I guess I thought you would be different this time.

Love Me

Love me. Love me and I will love you. 

Give me your heart to be my heart and when it beats my blood will flow through your veins. 

Let your eyes not wander beyond me, and my eyes will always adore the splendor of your frame.

Love me. Love me and I will love you.

Let your hands find both a resting place and room for discovery on my skin,

two travelers journeying the distance of my body; 

and my hands will always find their home in exploring you.

Let your lips touch only my lips,

your mouth share only my breath,

and I will nourish you as you sustain me.

Love me. Love me and I will love you. 

Let your glittering poetry and words of praise be spoken only of me, to me

and my words will serve to validate all of you forever. 

Let your soul be sewn to mine, and I will always be part of you.

Love me. Love only me and I will love only you.

My Heart

I will not give my heart so easily. 

You must win it in small degrees. 

Your hands to practice both desire and restraint.

Your words to prove at once honest and poetic. 

Your life for my life. Your own heart in return.