"On the contrary, the world where this Joy happens is as full of darkness as our own world, and that is why when it happens it is as poignant as grief and can bring tears to our eyes."
- Frederick Buechner, Telling the Truth: The Gospel as Tragedy, Comedy, and Fairy Tale
"This is why God as creator is called dator formarum, 'giver of form,' the latter word needing to be understood in the philosophical sense which naturally goes beyond the concept of the visible or material form, and designates the whole nature as being under consideration . . .
. . . the artisan's gestures are a reflection of this divine activity, and are like its continuation, whether is be the gestures of the quarryman, the potter, or any other artisan."
- Jean Hani, Divine Craftsmanship: Preliminaries to a Spirituality of Work
How does writing (or any art-making) help us engage with this "terror . . . to take back our own listening . . . our own voice . . . our own light"?
What practices do you have for owning your own voice?
This was a display from the harvest festival in Clonlara last autumn … the colors and textures remind me of Babette’s Feast - they make me hungry to write. What happens when individuals encounter tangible beauty for the first time?
Upstairs at Limerick City Gallery of Art. Reminds me of a mind in repose, a mind getting ready to write a poem, or revise one.
There's so many stories in this dried up living plant! Where did the ship sail, what did the sailors see, what battles and strange horizons?
Some of my favorite passages in any book are descriptions about the food! Mary and Colin and Dickon ate scones and cream in their secret garden; Anne's children ate grilled fish and potatoes from the fire in their Rainbow Valley; Laura and her family made a small meal of cornmeal and molasses by the side of their wagon. What's a meal that you would write about?
Our townhouse is a bit cramped for space, and I was running out of bookshelves. I was also feeling the lack of a quiet corner to read. So, with a bit of brainstorming and elbow grease, my family and I worked together to transform that space beneath the stairs (which was a heap of bikes and wetsuits) into an inviting, cozy, serviceable nook.
Like how the smell of salt-air or the caw of seagulls takes your mind to the seas, just walking by makes me wonder what's next in the book I'm reading . . . and writing . . .
Where do you like to read?
