The Feast Day of Saint Francis for Creative Types--for All of Us

Today is the feast day of Saint Francis.  For those of you who want a more spiritual meditation, head to these posts on my theology blog, one without photos, and one with photos.  For those of you wondering why we should care about a medieval saint or for those of you wanting to celebrate his life with your creativity, read on.

Francis continues to speak to so many of us, and for so many reasons.  Let's look at the various reasons and how they might inspire us in our creative lives.

--Francis is most associated with love of animals, which may explain his enduring popularity.  Churches across the world will celebrate his feast day by having services where people are welcome to bring their pets for a blessing. 

In our art, how could you take something traditional, like a worship service, and subvert it?  I'm thinking of the short story told via PowerPoint slides in Jennifer Egan's A Visit from the Goon Squad.

Today is a good day to think about the role of pets in our lives and to think about how we feel about less cuddly animals.  The symbolic possibilities may seem obvious--how could we use animals in a less obvious way as symbols in our work?

--Francis has come to be associated with the environmental movement, in part because of his love of animals, in part because he liked to visit ruined parts of society.

Today is a good day to think about our planet, much of which is already ruined.  We might think about the fact that we're living in the Holocene Extinction, one of 5-7 times in our planet's history where we know we're losing species at a far faster, and perhaps catastrophic, rate.  How can our creative endeavors address the situation? 

--Francis came from a very wealthy family, a family he renounced in solidarity with society's poor and outcast.  He lived amongst the lepers, the lowest of the low, and ministered to their needs.

Who are society's lepers today?  Can our art help humanize them?

--Francis worked to help end the Crusades. 

How could our creative work help end wars?

--Francis created three religious orders, two of which exist today, centuries after he created them.

What kind of community could help us in our creative endeavors?  Does it exist already?  If not, could we create such a community?

Several times during his life, Francis had to write a rule book for how the communities would live together.  If you created such a rule book, what would you include?

--Francis created the first Nativity scene, what we might today call a living Nativity scene, complete with real animals.  His scenes were inspired by paintings of the Nativity scene (think Jesus in a manger, surrounded by those who loved him and some animals).  He wanted visitors to feel the full engagement of all their senses.  We might think of Francis as an early performance artist or maybe someone who created a piece of installation art.

If we've been working in a certain medium for many years, we may have gotten complacent about trying to have all the senses of our audience engaged.  What can we do to change that?

If you're not a performance artist or a person who creates installation art, what could you do to move into that area?  It's an exciting time for collaboration and for exploring technology.  And yes, it's a scary time too.

--The life of St. Francis shows us the transformations that can happen when we dare to dream.  Dare to dream today.

A Banquet and Archived History

Yesterday I drove down to Columbia, SC to meet my parents so that we could all go to the James R. Crumley Archives banquet.  In years past, I've seen pictures of the event, and I've always been curious.  This year, schedules aligned, and we could go.

Each year, as far as I can tell, the banquet is held at a different place.  So far, the Archive has not had a permanent home.  That's about to change:  Newberry College has donated land for a building and now the capital campaign begins.  We heard a bit about that new development last night.

(l-r Don Poole, Ina Berkey, Jane Mitcham,Tom Berkey)

But most of last night's banquet was to celebrate the accomplishments of the honorees:  an individual, a church, and a synod of the ELCA.  It was enough of a program to justify the banquet, but not so overwhelming/long that people started leaving early.

(l-r Honoree Dorothy Jeffcoat, Don Poole, Ina Berkey)

Before the event, we had been invited to be part of a program that told the story of African American Lutherans in the southeast.  That program turned out to be a documentary that's available to all (go here to watch), along with some segments about Atlanta from a forthcoming documentary in the same series.

It was a lovely evening with good food, good stories/speeches, and even better, the chance to reconnect with others from the region.  I was happy to be reminded of all my connections:  to individuals, to various churches, to synods from the southeastern United States, to Newberry College, and to church camps.  But more than that, I was happy to hear the stories of all the good happening in the world, in small ways and in big ways.

Celebrating the Arrival of October with Fabric

I spent much of yesterday attending to tasks that I often don't find time for during regular school days:  a dermatologist appointment, some grocery shopping, and a hair cut.  But I also did some fun activities.  Last year, I went to Asheville Cotton, one of our local fabric stores, on the first day of Fall Break.  This year, I continued the tradition.

I don't really need fabric, but I wanted to buy a few small pieces to keep me feeling inspired, and I really wanted some fall or Halloween fabric.  

I saw this bag but didn't pick it up immediately--after all, I could choose my own fabric, couldn't I?  I could, but I found it a bit overwhelming.  And I didn't get a price break on the mystery bag. 

I went to the remnant section and was uninspired.  I picked up a piece or two and headed to the cash register.  At the last minute, I added the mystery bag to my purchase.

I am happy to say that I am delighted with the fabrics--some of them even glow in the dark!

It's strange to me that I got more delight from the mystery bag than I would have from taking the $40.00 and buying my own selection of bits and pieces.  I was happy for someone else to have made the decision for me.  And the surprise element was fun.

It reminded me of a time that's beginning to seem very long ago.  When I lived in Hollywood, Florida, I bought my fabric at Jo-Ann's, because it was easy and had what I needed.  Occasionally, my quilting friends and I would go to a huge store that specialized in specialty quilting fabrics; the prices were too high for my budget at the time, but I did splurge on backing fabric once.

The store sold plastic bags of scraps, many of them too small to be useful.  But occasionally, there would be one worth the $10 price.  I loved dumping out the bag and seeing what was actually there.  Even better was when one of my quilting friends bought one too, and we could trade.

Last night, I didn't work with any of the new fabric I bought.  I'm trying to get a quilt made by Thanksgiving, so I worked on that.  Plus, I like having the new fabric for a bit of time before cutting into it.  It's a way to stretch the joy, and who can argue with that?  

Rough Drafts and Fall Break

We are at midterm at Spartanburg Methodist College--which means it's Fall Break today and tomorrow.  My spouse and I will have a day of working on different projects:  he's putting polyurethane on the sanded hardwood floors in the fixer-upper house in S'burg, and I have various appointments today (dermatologist, hair, Zoom session with one of our onground intensive instructors).

Yesterday my spouse and I went to S'burg in different cars, so I had some time alone at the Arden house.  What did I do with my alone time?  Cooking and baking, of course.  I have a lot of apples which aren't getting fresher, so I made this apple cake; it's a strange recipe, with mashing the apples with a mixer to get the crumbly batter into something that is more like a cake batter.  The finished cake is very moist.  When I first took it out of the oven, it seemed more like a bread pudding.  It's delicious, both iced and un-iced.

I also made dinner with the ingredients I bought on Tuesday for this Smitten Kitchen recipe that uses frozen ravioli and fresh spinach. It's similar to another Smitten Kitchen recipe that includes tomatoes (I use a small can of petite diced), cooking on the top of the stove, with a last-minute broil.

You might think I would do more writing during a time in the house when I knew that the T.V. would stay quiet.  I did write a draft of the paper that is due Oct. 5.  And while my Nonfiction Writing students worked on their next assignment, I did write a rough draft of my Mary in a Time of Climate Change,  poem (see this post for the original inspiration).  It went in surprising directions, although I didn't have much of a vision, so the main surprise was having any direction at all.

It reminds me of a similar process a few weeks ago.  I had been trying to write about Nancy Drew taking up quilting.  I was leafing through A. E. Stallings' Afterlife, her wonderful collection of mostly published poems, and came across "Medea, Homesick."  I thought about Nancy Drew, homesick for her youth.  And a poem just tumbled out of me.

This morning I've been looking at rough drafts of poems that I've composed in the last 2 months.  My goal for Fall Break is to finish one or two.  I am delighted to realize that I've written more than I remembered, although some of them are just some lines that may or may not have potential.

Well, let me get ready to go on my walk.  I'm eating extra apple cake calories--plus, I want to enjoy autumnal weather before it turns rainy/wintry.

Pumpkin Sketches and Full Moon Walks

Yesterday, we made a quick grocery store stop on our way back from Spartanburg.  At one point, I heard an announcement over the loudspeaker, so I went to the in-store Starbucks.  I had heard correctly--they were giving out samples of Pumpkin Spice Latte--yum.

For me, though, this season is really Pumpkin Sketching season.  Here's my latest:

Those of you who know me best know that I am often sketching pumpkins.  But in autumn, it feels more legit--the way I am always drawn to autumn spices that some call pumpkin.

This past week has also been full moon walking week.  It feels less onerous to walk in the pre-dawn dark when a full moon awaits.

I had always wondered if there was ever a time when I could capture both the moon and the lighted cross at the Lutheridge lake.  I'm calling this one a success, even if my phone camera is less advanced.

I also like the one that has some lights from the lodge/boathouse.  It's not quite spooky season vibes, but close--summer shifting vibes perhaps.

Mary in a Time of Climate Change

I met the artist Jill Ross through an online journaling group offered by artist Vonda Drees.  That feels like a very different time and world, and in a way, it was, back in 2018.  We were journaling our way through  Joyce Rupp's Open the Door: A Journey to the True Self.  I first blogged about the experience in this post, but there were others.  Through the years, we did some additional journaling classes online together.

Beginning of a Mosaic by Jill Ross

A few days ago, Jill posted this picture on Facebook with this caption:  "Day One- New Adventure Series, Mary in the time of Climate Change," and I wrote to say it would make a great poem title.  Then I wrote to ask if she'd mind if I wrote the poem.

I haven't written the poem yet, but I wanted to make sure I captured the idea.  I've used Biblical and mythological characters, like Noah's wife and Cassandra, to talk about climate change in past poems, but never Mary.

Noah's wife seems like a much more obvious choice than Mary, but I'm guessing it's because I haven't really thought about it much.  I immediately thought of the refugee angle (the flight into Egypt in the Gospel of Matthew), but is that a result of climate change?  Hmmm.

Let me capture some possible lines and see if they lead to anything:

--I have watched the grapes retreat to cooler climates.

--I know what it's like to flee a dictator.

--I have lost my children too.

--Blue is my color, my color and my mood.

--You have feared the flood and the fire.

Sunday Wrap Up: Sundaes on Sunday and Helene Memories

Yesterday, we had worship in the picnic pavilion at Faith Lutheran in Bristol, Tennessee.  It was a bit chilly, but we continued on with worship as planned.  For more on worship, I wrote this blog post, or you can go straight to the recording of the sermon.

We had a potluck lunch with ice cream sundaes (Sundaes on Sunday!) after worship.  I looked across the field behind the pavilion with rolled hay and not for the first time did I think, I have fallen into a Norman Rockwell painting--and I mean that in the best possible way.

On our way home, we stopped at the grocery store.  I wanted better cheddar cheese to go with the apples I bought, and I picked up a bottle of white wine too.  It was as perfect an autumnal supper as I thought it would be.

Melancholy nipped at the edges of the day.  It was the anniversary of the worst damage of Hurricane Helene, and I had that on the brain as we went across the part of I 26 that had to be rebuilt after the Nolichucky River flooded in Erwin, Tennessee.  There were homes and manufacturing plants and a hospital and a radio station that aren't there anymore.

I also felt a bit of sadness scrolling through everyone else's memories and also a post on a friend's birthday that her husband posted.  She died suddenly and unexpectedly in February, and he invited us to post memories on his post earlier this week.  It was wonderful to read and remember, but also deeply sad, because she wasn't even 60 yet.

I fell asleep early as I often do on Sundays, but it was a good sleep, unlike Friday's sleep because of relentless headache because of commuting stop/slow down.  

And now for the week ahead:  Thursday and Friday are Fall Break, with midterm grades due Wednesday, so it will be a different week.