O happy circumstance. My dear King has spoken to another across the ocean--an art director of a Catholic Italian publishing company who wants this icon for a cover of a new book series--"The Breath of God". The internet does have it's upside with allowing people around the world to find images of what they're looking for...and for reason of the general iconographer mindset of avoiding technology and turning back to ancient tradition, many do not dare blog (!), and some, including the best and most revered iconographer in Russia, Father Zinon, do not even have a website. So far, I do not feel I am breaking rule, although it is important within iconography to deny self and detach from personal identity (thus Iconeye Studio). There is a fine line here, as my own personal mission is to bring icons into contemporary awareness, and this takes a certain acceptance of the internet thing, which perhaps simply because of my semi-isolation in the woods, has its place in my day-to-day life. I am still trying to figure out why my icons are found early in google image page searches, while my mentor's icons are not. Strange these interior engines of cyberspace...
But I am joyful at sharing these images with more people. There is a hopeful difference with an icon of a contemporary iconographer as opposed to an ancient original, in that the new can pull forth a timelessness and make us a part of the experience grounded in the present. As there is a historical implication in the reality of our faith, it is good to make new, and become aware that we are specifically appointed to be God's witness in the here and now, proclaiming Truth, pointing towards Eternity along this road we travel.
And then we travel closer to heart with those whom we love, again sharing Truth. I spent the day driving my eldest three children down to see their father in New York (rendez-vous at a half-way point). My oldest fifteen-year old son Justin sat next to me in the front while the others sat in the back absconded in a movie. And it was so interesting how our conversation went from girlfriend to the issue of pre-marital sex, from abortion to defining one's faith and the person-hood of Christ--all building in passion from his end. He was extremely animated and opinionated in his struggle with these issues and the reality of "who is this man who died for our sins?". He, very much unlike myself, was brought into Christianity since he was born and baptized on his eighth day of life. There is a different reckoning with putting it all together as a young adult, rebellious and wanting to shape the own content of one's life. And what a gift it was even in his skepticism of the audacity of the Cross. He values the importance of faith, of God, but has met a wall with who is this man called Jesus. There it was, like Jacob struggling with the angel, wrestling and shedding tears. No, it is not for us to condemn the unbelievers, the agnostics, the fringe, the imprisoned, the lost, the Hindus and Buddhists, or the Jews for not recognizing the Chosen One... Here it was--love hoping and wanting and banging and shouting and needing for us all in true humanity to be ONE--to overcome differences, pain and suffering from his tender fifteen year old heart. Christ's words are defining, and not so easy. There is a recognition that comes to you as life collects days, that indeed there is a narrow road that we must walk on. A road that goes beyond self-fulfillment to our neighbor--a road that leads right to "Our Father"--not "My". A collective voice of love reaching out to the lost, the wandering, the hungering--the ones who seek to find completion and can in God's most beautiful face who speaks of the Way, the Truth, the Life. We must shine as that face and hands and feet and eyes and mouth. To embrace that freedom of Love where we can make a difference in the world. I deeply feel for Justin in his frustrations of brokenness and yearning to make sense.
I, who am so flawed in my own self through sin, battle daily to overcome that sin of self and become Christ in the world. To recognize Love is the victor, and put it into action. Healing. Working salvation through time within me, and through the opportunities put before us...
I am grateful for God's mercy in my life, for the gifts he has given, for my children and witnessing their own struggle to reckon and come to terms with faith. May our own lives speak forth in this dark and dying world.
May I continue to plant seeds for my own son and my other children whom I love... May I continue to take up brush daily to write icons--a resounding beauty and truth gazing forth to the here and now from the knowing of the beyond.
As King David spoke in his psalm 42:
1 Like as the hart for water-brooks
in thirst doth pant and bray;
So pants my longing soul, O God,
that come to thee I may.
2 My soul for God, the living God,
doth thirst: when shall I near
Unto thy countenance approach,
and in God's sight appear?
3 My tears have unto me been meat,
both in the night and day,
While unto me continually,
Where is thy God? they say.
4 My soul is poured out in me,
when this I think upon;
Because that with the multitude
I heretofore had gone:
With them into God's house I went,
with voice of joy and praise;
Yea, with the multitude that kept
the solemn holy days.
5 O why art thou cast down, my soul?
why in me so dismay'd?
Trust God, for I shall praise him yet,
his count'nance is mine aid.
6 My God, my soul's cast down in me;
thee therefore mind I will
From Jordan's land, the Hermonites,
and ev'n from Mizar hill.
7 At the noise of thy water-spouts
deep unto deep doth call;
Thy breaking waves pass over me,
yea, and thy billows all.
8 His loving-kindness yet the Lord
command will in the day,
His song's with me by night; to God,
by whom I live, I'll pray:
9 And I will say to God my rock,
Why me forgett'st thou so?
Why, for my foes' oppression,
thus mourning do I go?
10 'Tis as a sword within my bones,
when my foes me upbraid;
Ev'n when by them, Where is thy God?
'tis daily to me said.
11 O why art thou cast down, my soul?
why, thus with grief opprest,
Art thou disquieted in me?
in God still hope and rest:
For yet I know I shall him praise,
who graciously to me
The health is of my countenance,
yea, mine own God is he.
Remember me in your prayers.
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