Art and word play for spiritual creativity

Over the next five weeks, our church is doing a worship series called "Drawn In," which encourages everyone to tap into their God-given creativity. Seems like a welcome and appropriate theme for this summer when we all need creative outlets.

Here's what the SPUMC website says about the series:

God created the heavens and the earth…and called it all good! During this series, we will connect with our inherent creativity and nurture this foundational aspect of being human, giving us renewed energy for passionate work, delightful play, and creative problem solving to make this world a better place for all.

I've found myself part of a worship brainstorming team, and for this series, I'm working with my friend Stephanie, a visual artist, to create some invitations to "spiritual creativity" that we are sending out to the congregation.

There are five weeks, so five invitations. Each week also has a word associated with it, so we're trying to keep that word/concept in mind as we come up with activities.

This is what we say about our invitations:

This summer, we invite you to be “drawn in” to the practice of exercising your creativity through some art and word play activities.  

These activities are designed for anyone to do--you don’t have to think of yourself as particularly gifted with words or with art. In fact, instead of thinking of art and writing as something that only a few people can do, we consider them as meditative activities for seeing our world and reflecting on our place in it. And you might even come up with some beautiful works of art!

Here is this week's invitation: blind contour drawing. Give it a try: it's fun and relaxing; very meditative in an ecumenical way!

Week 1: Dream

Because the title of this sermon series is “Drawn In,” this week, we’d like to invite you to do some actual drawing: blind contour drawing. Here’s an example:

Blind contour drawing is a simple exercise that involves carefully observing the outline and shapes of a subject while slowly drawing its contours in a continuous line--without looking at the paper. It is a great way to practice slowing down and looking very carefully at something.

To get started, you will need:

• Paper
• Pencil or pen
• A timer

Once you have your supplies:

1. Choose a subject to draw — still-life objects or the figure work well for this exercise
2. Set the timer for 20 minutes (shorter for children).
3. Tape the paper to your drawing surface so it doesn’t shift as you draw.
4. Arrange yourself so you can see the object you will be drawing without seeing the paper.
5. Focus your eyes on some part of the object and begin moving your pencil to record what your eyes observe.
6. Do not look down at the paper as your draw. Rather, force yourself to concentrate on how the shapes, lines, and contours of the object relate to one another.
7. Continue observing and recording until the timer rings

Here’s a short video that shows what blind contour drawing looks like.

After 20 minutes, you know you’ve spent serious time contemplating your subject. You’ve really looked at it closely, and you’ve slowed yourself down. The experience of drawing has become a meditation for you.

Blind contour drawings themselves often look nothing like the object you were observing, but you can see some of the important contours in them--and they often make lovely abstract images!

Pandemic Father's Day

This morning, in honor of Father's Day, I went looking for a photo of just my father and me from when I was a child. I thought I'd remembered a photo of him holding me, or maybe one of me sitting on his lap. Those photos might be out there, but this is the one I found.

It's funny because you can't even really see my dad in this photo. Instead, on one side of the photo, there's me as a baby, mouth open, arms outstretched, stepping toward the other side of the photo, and aiming for the outstretched hands of my father.

There's an easy chair in the background, and Venetian blinds let in a peek of light; this was most likely taken in my parents' Army-base apartment in Alabama, at Redstone Arsenal, where my Dad was stationed during the early 1960s.

Maybe my dad had just gotten back from his work with Sergeant missiles on the base and was sitting in the late-afternoon winter sunlight with me. Maybe my mom took a break from cooking dinner and got the camera as she saw me start to take some wobbly steps. I can imagine my dad encouraging baby me: come on Jane! You can do it! 

In a way, this photo is emblematic of my relationship with my dad. He was always out there, encouraging me, believing in me, sure that I could make it to wherever I needed to go: up the last hill of a day-long hike in the mountains, through seemingly unending years of graduate school, and past the milestones of my own children as they grew.

Thanks, Dad, for your belief in me, for your encouragement, and for your strong arms that wrapped me in loving hugs that I miss to this day.

*****

In pandemic news: things seem to be about the same. Nationwide, the number of cases has plateaued out, but at a pretty high level. And maybe there's even a bit of an uptick recently.

News stories about "hot spots" (Oregon, Texas, Florida, North Carolina) where cases are going up dramatically. And other news stories point out that more younger people are being diagnosed with Covid. I wonder how--if at all--those statistics will affect college openings.

At a faculty meeting last week, the administration told the faculty that they are planning to open up the college and begin face-to-face classes on August 19 as planned. In my department, 1/3 of the faculty have requested to teach online only, and we've been asked to hire an adjunct to teach a few classes on campus. Coe really is wedded to the "residential" part of residential liberal-arts college.

As for me, I'm OK with teaching f2f. It's the running of the Writing Center that I'm really going to have to think about and plan for over the next couple of months. And it's not the work part of the Writing Center that's most difficult: it's building that the close-knit community of consultants that is going to be challenging. I have some ideas. One involves dividing my enormous staff (60 consultants, "six-zero," as I often have to explain to astounded writing center director colleagues from other schools) into "houses," a la Hogwarts!

Stay tuned for more on that adventure!

Protests and swimming

On Monday, May 25, a man named Christian Cooper was looking at birds in Central Park in New York City . When he asked another park visitor to put her dog on a leash, she refused. When he started making a video of her, she threatened to call the police and tell them "an African-American man is threatening my life."

Christian Cooper in Central Park with his birding gear. Photo from the NYTimes.

On the same day, a man named George Floyd was killed by a Minneapolis police officer who had accused Floyd of using a counterfeit $20 bill at a store. I was unable to watch the video of Mr. Floyd that circulated on social media. The still photo from the video was appalling enough (I'm not even going to put it here), and the descriptions of the event were horrifying.

Though it was less dramatic, the first story touched me closely. Like me, Mr. Cooper loves to look at birds, but it turns out he might not be safe doing what he loves--"because racism"--as my students and I say.

And what's more, I feel strongly convicted by his story: a white middle-class, middle-aged woman and her arrogant and racist threats could have put him in fatal danger from police officers who . . . well, look at the George Floyd story.

So we white middle-class, middle-aged women need to show that we stand against racism.

That article you might have seen, called "75 things white people can do for racial justice" had plenty of good recommendations for what I might do. #2 on the list was this:

Google whether your city or town currently employs evidence-based police de-escalation trainings. The racial make-up of your town doesn’t matter — This needs to be standard everywhere. Write to your city or town government representative and police chief and advocate for it. Multiply your voice by soliciting others to advocate as well, writing on social media about it, writing op-eds, etc.

Well, I didn't need to Google: I have a friend on the CRPD! Actually, Brian is retired now, but still, he knows what goes on there. I texted him:

Anti-racist training and de-escalation training: effective ways to head off rioting, and mandatory here in Cedar Rapids.

When I read about a gathering here in Cedar Rapids to protest Mr. Floyd's death (and the ongoing systemic and violent racism in our country), I decided I'd go. My baptismal vows, printed on this t-shirt, were egging me on.

Wearing my baptismal vows t-shirt, I rode my bike to the gathering, just a few blocks from my house. A large group of people held signs and listened to people talking from the bed of a pickup truck. My friend Alicia came by and we hung out, wearing our Covid masks, at the very edge of the crowd, which wasn't really using social distancing measures.

Several people asked what the protest was like. Protests across the country have been followed by rioting and looting (often instigated by outsiders), so I think they wanted to know if the Cedar Rapids protest was peaceful. I told them it was peaceful but forceful. People in cars driving by waved and honked their horns.

I don't know what it's going to take for this country to get out from under the shadow of our "original sin," slavery. The online Pentecost sermon by the pastor at my DC home church gave me courage and inspiration. Pastor Alisa's sermon reminded me that I am not "just one person" who might feel weak and worry I can't do enough. I am one part of a larger, stronger body and we are animated and suffused with a spirit stronger than all of us.

On a completely different topic, this week, the YMCA began letting members back in for lap swimming! We had to call in and reserve a time, sign a waiver, and stay only in our lane. I may have let out a "yippee" as they signed me in.  I had to stop a couple times to catch my breath (I guess fast-walking isn't quite enough of a cardio workout for me!), and my arms got pretty tired, but overall, it felt great to get back in.

In full dork swim mode.

I guess all of me is being strengthened: from my stick arms to my faith to my resolve to fight racism!