On Sunday evening I attended a concert performance, put on by the Reformed String Camp, in which children from all over the country gathered together to showcase a week’s learning and practicing. I was impressed by their collective spirit, doubtless spurred on by the energy and enthusiasm of their conductors, Kent and Roxy. I came into the evening with dark brooding intellectual heaviness dragging on my heart, and left the evening refreshed, and with a rather expressive doodle on my hands. The piece releases some of my own pent-up energies (I haven’t completed a major piece in at least 4 months).

Speaking of Camps, there are always camps at war, and so my hope is that my present journey will yet conclude its meandering with something epic; something that aims to reconcile. Let’s just say Eden and Zion is evolving in my heart and mind, into something along the lines of new boundaries. But I’m afraid that if further clarity is desired, then for that we shall all have to wait a while longer.

I’m gearing up for a few days at Awenda Provincial Park, and then I’m off to Vienna, where I’ll be working with ICASO as Communications Support.

I will then be back in Canada, in time for a (final) week of camp with teenagers in Markdale.

It strikes me that Mandelbrot’s maxim might just as easily apply in a moral sense. When we maintain discipline (in any discipline), wonderous flowers emerge: such flowers as the mothers and fathers who give endlessly of themselves for 20 years in order to raise a child. Such flowers as the pianist who practices for 10,000 hours to attain concert-level mastery. The theme here is a constancy of service to others. And isn’t that a rather spiritual engagement? You might say that the Golden rule is the simple equation that sparks it all. Insofar as "Do unto others" is akin to Mandelbrot’s "zn+1 = zn2 + c", the intricacies sparked by goodwill maintain a mathematical majesty.

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Yesterday a man with a gas-powered steel-brushed broom
cleaned the slab of concrete that we call our parking lot.

The trees spent the evening weeping over the noise,
and now a fresh accumulation of blossoms
makes the raw power of machinery seem petty.

I, however, will aim to use my blender symbolically.

I have an itch to explore the tension
between metal and mush,
between blossom and brutality,
between garden and city.

Osterizer has answered the call.

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Confederation Park, Stoney Creek: the edge of earth and water, the place where (of late) creative juices flow, the site of a (closed-for-the-season) campground office, whose dusk-light glow is accented by the shadow of a gas meter, weeds, and an intriguing sticker.

So… about those Reformed doctrinal standards…

"God’s providence is His almighty and ever present power, whereby, as with His hand, He still upholds heaven and earth and all creatures, and so governs them that leaf and blade, rain and drought, fruitful and barren years, food and drink, health and sickness, riches and poverty, indeed, all things, come to us not by chance but by His fatherly hand."
… Heidelberg Catechism, 1563

This being one of the many platitudes I had to memorize as a child, it has left an indelible mark on the way I interpret this sticker.

… And now for another exegesis, this one by the Hamilton Police Service:

Operation Provident assists businesses with advice about the protection of property and in identifying various objects in case of theft.

Using this system, a business will be allotted a unique sequential number. Simply contact your police for information on joining Operation Provident and a number will be assigned along with information on program implementation.

This national numbering system will assist any police officer in the country to quickly determine the ownership of recovered property through the police computer system.

A provident number is issued to the firm and a record of this along with the firm’s name is kept in the computer file for easy identification.

Metal items can be marked with etching equipment, which may be borrowed from the Community Policing Centres.

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A little branding mistake or a cute irony?
The missing ’s’ is alright in my books: it goes along well with the theme of rusted scrap metal. And it is, after all, what they do best.

For all your scrapping needs, I recommend Future Enterprises.

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Blue: shovel, pencap, part of a mini frisbee, hook, plastic bag, crushed mini bowling pin, Breyers’ Ice Cream lid edging, cracked bottom of recycling box, section of bubbalicious gum case, pipe, rectangular object, flower pot edge, pencap.

Green: basket remnant, candy wrapper, melted plastic item, bit of lawn chair , plastic bag, mini pylon, soda bottles(2)

Yellow: frisbee remnants, tennis ball, drink caps (3).

Orange: piece of styrofoam, drug container, artificial flower, Ikea pencil, rusted metal

Red: end caps(2) remnants of pail, bottle cap, plastic sleeve.

However dry is bone or stone or dust,
vivacious living water percolates
through corpse-reviving Spirit-breath:
(re)animating antidote to death.

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Father Colonel Lieutenant Francis Patrick Duffy is not the Patrick in whose honour the Irish holiday is named. The original patron saint of Ireland lived both longer and longer ago, but both he and the Solider (whose monument stands in the north triangle at Times Square in New York City) embody a common Catholicism. If the elder saint’s use of the shamrock as a Trinitarian theological model seemed progressive to the pre-Christian Irish, Father Duffy’s position as editor for the New York Review earned him a similar repute. To complement these clerical contributions, Duffy’s highly decorated military uniform speaks equally of civil sacrifice. And now a granite Celtic cross adorns 47th street with these very accurate, very truthful words: “In service of God and country”.

You have to wonder, though, with these towering gigapixel shrines to Capitalism fully illuminating the space on every side…. has that specific adornment been superseded? What kind of progressive theology is prepared to dialogue with the epic frivolity of names in lights? What does eternal life really mean in contrast to the momentary high of consumption? Does the red glass Perkins/Eastman amphitheatre (installed northwise-adjacent to Duffy’s statue) empower us to look him over, or does it invite us to overlook him? What is it about the impermanence of reflected pixels in granite that makes Coca-cola seem insignificant compared to the weight of history on which it stands? When Virgin Records employs two drunk sluts to bolster their image, is their disposition in honour of St. Patty’s day?

Although it is partly my camera whose adept lens dynamics have enabled me to ask “Where is God on Broadway?”, these and other questions have also been positively provoked by the intellectual, creative, and vibrantly visionary context of the IAM Encounter 2010 conference. My urge to dig deep into the nuances of nature and culture, and to creatively redeem the broken things around me is spurred on through the conference theme “10 Questions for 2010”, and the spirit of International Arts Movement’s vision to “create the world that ought to be.”

I’m grateful for the wonderful people in whose wisdom and joy I was able to share in New York City. Ron Kelsey is a”Non-profit Artist” and the liason for IAM in the US Military. L.L Barkat is the author of “Stone Crossings: Finding Grace in Hard and Hidden Places”, and the managing editor for HighCallingBlogs. Diane Collard is a speaker and writer, who has written about the role of visual art in the Church. Natalie Settles is an artist who aims to discover “new patterns in art and science”. Makoto Fujimura is the founder of IAM, who encouraged us this year to create in the loving spirit of I Corinthians 13. Christy Tennant is the host of everyone’s favourite podcast, IAM Conversations. Bethany Lynam smiles and ponders brightly. Tessa Boult is an art history student from Yorkshire, England. Annie Ling could teach me more than a few things about photography. Greg Veltman and Andrea Hensen are happily married. Spencer Imbrock was in my Bible study while I lived in the Paquis Geneva Switzerland, and it was really splendid to run into him at Redeemer Presbyterian Church. Scott, Ryan, Keith, Kyle, my wonderful creative carpool from Ontario were also a tremendous blessing. And I’m sure there were more of you, whose facebook pages I’m bound to stumble upon one day.

The question that is currently on my mind is this: “How will we facilitate an encouraging creative community here in Ontario, spurring each other on towards meaningful forms of loving, artistic service?”

The answer, I anticipate, is only going to beg more (wonderful) questions.

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This week’s snowicane has apparently failed to make it far enough inland to really impact southern Ontario. But who needs white snow anyway? I’ve got plenty of white plasticine, white seashells, white coral, white rice, and white paper to keep me occupied.

I suppose this comes on the heels of another desaturated image. I’m beginning to find my productive groove back. Maybe this one-dimensional graphic style is what I’ll pursue for a while. It seems to jive with my ambiance these days. Anyway, taking the colour out of a work allows you to focus your eyes on its other lively attributes… I guess that here the life is in the texture.

I derive satisfaction from how the varying subtleties of bold and blustery (shadows of clay) are in epic conversation with wispy and whimsical (flowing rice) in this arrangement. Like you and I, these materials have context-specific personality.

I’m also excited about IAM Encounter in New York next week. Roadtripping with Scott and Keith.

Peace.

H

This is a self portrait of sorts. Lately I’ve been completely in the web development zone, and not at all in the art zone. And so I feel dangerously (and perhaps literally) disjointed. Either I’m in over my head, or I’ve lost my head altogether, and so that is the reason for today’s wire sketch. I missed Francine’s birthday, earlier this week, and so she got to keep the sculpture as a kind of consolation prize. You have to redeem these moments I guess. The rest of the afternoon, I hung out on James Street North, where my artist friends encouraged me to stay on as an artist (and also as a web developer). I’m grateful for the encouragement, and for all the putting-up-with that people endure in spite of my being behind schedule on just about everything. I think things will get better soon. Just gotta learn to juggle more efficiently, or perhaps to find my head back, hopefully with the capacity for vision still intact. In either case, I crave additional focus and direction for my crazy-running-around-in-circles. Principled living without wisdom is nearly impossible. Has anyone seen my head anywhere?