Karen DuBert: Soul Feeding

Soul Feeding

Guest Writer: Karen DuBert

Sometimes on life’s pilgrimage

I don’t know what my soul craves,

but I feel the craving.

It’s obvious when my body craves--

Whether its comfort food

or something healthy—

and I am well aware when I need

a long cool drink of

refreshing, thirst-quenching water.

So as I reflect on food for my soul,

I need to ask myself what I’m craving:

my Living Water—

my Cup of Salvation—

my Bread of Life.

The metaphors are so intrinsic to my life

they don’t even feel metaphorical.

they feel strangely exotic

and pretty comfortable.

My soul yearns in anticipation—

the dishes, the beverages, the fellowship:

Foods simple, spicy, salty, and sweet.

All the nourishment my soul craves.

But what does it truly crave?

And does it crave what is good?

I need to discern when I gorge on

junk food of the soul.

Designed to be nourished

by Truth, Beauty, and Goodness,

it is too easy to be sated by

scrolling, bingeing, pursuing trivia,

numbing the deep longings

and quieting the uneasiness and questions.

I know myself well enough to know

that when I am hungry—

I might settle for something less, some distraction

something tasty but without nourishment.

Hyper-palatable: tastes so good I cannot stop,

with neither health or nutrition—

to help me be my best self.

I, at times, have settled for less.

No doubt I will do it again.

But I still seek the wisdom

to nurture the health of my soul

(unburdened by shame or false guilt)

but with gentleness and grace.

Karen DuBert

Joanna joannaseibert.com

Visio Divina: Using images to help in prayer

Visio Divina

"The experience of praying with icons and other images is quite different from praying with words."—Christine Valters Paintner, Illuminating Mystery: Creativity as a Spiritual Practice, Reflections in Word and Image (Abbey of the Arts Press, 2009).

God speaks to us in many ways—through relationships, our experiences, sacred texts such as the Bible, and other avenues. Visio divina, Latin for "divine seeing," is a form of prayer that involves meditating on images to listen to God's words. It is similar to Lectio divina, Latin for "divine reading," in which we pray with sacred texts such as Holy Scripture. There are four steps we can follow to practice Visio divina:

1. Sit quietly, close your eyes, and be aware of your breathing. Practice a body scan. Open your eyes and look at the artwork slowly, taking in the colors, people, places, and things. Stay with the image for one to two minutes. You may want to jot down a few words about the image.

2. Close your eyes and take a deep breath. Open your eyes. Take another, deeper look. Is there movement? Are there relationships? Use your imagination. What is the story? Can you place yourself in the story and the image? Do you see deeper meanings beyond the surface?

3.  Respond to the image with prayer. Does the image evoke an experience or remind you of a person or issue for which you want to offer thanksgiving or intercession? If so, offer that prayer to God.

4. Find your quiet heart center. Stay connected to your body. Breathe deeply. Relax your shoulders, arms, and legs. Rest in this quiet. Imagine God praying within you. God prays beyond words.

Nouwen has written about his profound experience praying and meditating on Rembrandt's painting, "The Return of the Prodigal Son." This image is an excellent starting point. Then, read Henri Nouwen’s The Return of the Prodigal Son: A Story of Homecoming.

—From Kathryn Shirey, "How to Pray with 'Eyes of the Heart' Using Visio Divina" at www.KathrynShirey.com.

Joanna. https://www.joannaseibert.com/

Artist Ken Fellows Writes about Watercolor Painting as a Spiritual Practice

 Artist Ken Fellows Writes about Watercolor Painting as a Spiritual Practice

Guest Writer: Ken Fellows

  Watercolor Painting

Ken Fellows

     Before I took up watercolor painting, I was a radiologist who spent decades contemplating black/white images. My grayscale discrimination is pretty good, and perhaps that’s why my paintings feature light and shadow. A doctor colleague observed at one of my shows, “Well, I see you’re still dealing in shadows.”

Interpreting X-ray images also requires subconsciously rejecting what’s unimportant or extraneous and focusing on the unusual, the variant, and the arresting. The same holds true for watercolor art. When I paint, I do the same thing: I try to extract the essential and defining elements of a scene and leave out those that are mundane or distracting. Art teachers stress that what’s left out of a painting is as important as what’s included. Sometimes deciding what to leave out can be difficult; it complicates the start of every painting.

     Dewitt Hardy was my best teacher. He painted locally and was nationally known as a master of watercolor. His early criticism of my work was that my paintings were “too photographic.” Others have observed, not always admiringly, that “your work looks like a photo.” I offer no defense, even if ‘the look’ is unintentional. 

     I often use personal photos as references for painting, but I usually study and sketch the scene on-site before attempting a final rendition. On-site photos help me recall the ambient light and shadows when I return to my studio. Everything else – the objects, shapes, proportions, and colors – is a candidate for change and innovation.

     Whatever viewers think of my work, if it’s in a show, it has already passed my severest critics—my artist/wife Kristin, photographer/daughter Hannah, and young granddaughter Ella (who always recommends, “Grandpa, there’s not enough color”). They have discerning eyes and good judgment. If they disapprove, the painting never goes on display. My paintings have been selected for approximately 65 shows over the past 22 years. I’ve been fortunate to have the support and encouragement of my family and to have found this ‘2nd act’ in life.                                                                             

    In any case, I paint for pleasure, not for critical approval. I see more things I want to paint than I can ever accomplish. I choose what I like and paint what I see. There’s no message in my work – no karmic meaning, no philosophical intent. When a painting pleases me enough to hang on a wall and my in-house jury approves, I dare to exhibit it publicly. I am satisfied if anyone else finds the effort either pleasing or interesting. 

   “I’ve been drawing all my life, just as a hobby, without really having shows or anything. It’s just an agreeable thing to do, and I recommend it to everybody. I always say to people, practice an art, no matter how well or badly, because then you have the experience of becoming, and it makes your soul grow.”—Kurt Vonnegut

Ken Fellows

Joanna joannaseibert.com