ruah arts group

Drunk artisans shine dull,
Striving, inebriated by the world’s narcissistic noise,
      and remembering
The beatific sound of byzantine bells.
Echoes of holiness, reflected dimly in the clouded mirrors
of disco ball souls. 

The Lord has been preparing me for an unknown cross for some time, and on Thursday, July 24 it became apparent in my soul that Friday, July 25 would be the beginning of this. Can I drink the cup? I wondered, remembering the Lord’s words to St. James. At work we had put out a press release to the secular press, and in a town that likes to persecute my bishop and the Church, I was expecting that having my name as the interview contact would be the beginning of some semi-public persecution regarding Humanae Vitae, the Church, contraception and me in defense of Christ’s teaching. I even prepared for my own untimely death.

It turns out that was far too wide a scope, and too high of a vain martyr’s hope. Instead, in came in the form of a call from my dad, sobbing my name over the cell phone. I have never in my life known my dad to cry in front of me, so I knew instantly what it was, and that my cross had come (or at least just begun). “Mom’s dead.” The cliches are the only apt expression–it was  like being hit by a train. She fainted suddenly and quietly late Friday morning while standing in the pool with her dog. My dad was in town and at home, right by her side, thanks be to God. The emergency and medical drama lasted an hour or so, and persisted into the afternoon until she’d posthumously received anointing, had a visit from the coroner (to make sure there wasn’t anything suspicious), and my dad met briefly with someone from the funeral home. The doctor thinks it may have been an abdominal aortic aneurysm that ruptured so deeply that she probably died within minutes. Though definite cause is not known, but my dad is fairly sure that she died in his arms, and that her death was nearly instant. She was only 55.

Though my heart is broken and death casts a deep shadow over my soul, God has sent many little consolations in this desert time, and for that I’m grateful. This woman who was plagued by many secret sufferings, but found her consolation in the images of angels, was buried on the feast of Our Lady of the Angels.

Eternal Rest grant unto her…and let perpetual light shine upon her.

If you’re interested in film and God, and you’ve got adminstrative gifts, you might be interested in this position at Act One, Inc….

(Act One trains and mentors Christians of all denominations for careers in mainstream film and television. We prepare our students to produce film and TV projects that combine mastery of craft with great depth and meaning. As a non-profit organization, we are wholly devoted to the professional and spiritual development of our students.)

If wit was the eighth gift of the Holy Spirit, this might be the fruit of a new Pentecost. I love it. Thank you Catholic Minority Report for your spot on witicisms on the reform of the reform. I especially liked the “50% less Bugnini.” (Have you read the review of Marini’s (which means Bugnini’s) book in Adoremus?)

Coming up Saturday and Sunday July 12th and 13th, make plans to be on the Capitol Square for the 50th Annual Art Fair on the Square, presented by the Madison Museum of Contemporary Art. Art Fair on the Square. It’s the 50th anniversary of the Art Fair, so MMoCA is really doing it up big this year! Not only will nearly 500 artists be displaying their works in a variety of media, there will be 3 entertainment stages and lots of fun family activities. The free live music includes Mark Croft, Lou and Peter Berryman, Tift Merritt and more. See the full lineup here

Which is best? To remain obscure, perpetually in debt and tortured, but humble? Or to be invited to higher places and step by step win acclaim, falling victim to vainglory? Perhaps there’s a way to remain both humble and be recognized in the world, and if I had my guess, this may be the destiny of Grassroots Films, whose talent is obvious, and name increasingly whispered amongst the film circuit, but whose goal is the greater glory of God and the salvation of souls.

This is all fanfare to say that Grassroots Films just was awarded the Best Documentary Feature at the Maui Film Festival, an “Audience Award.” Having seen this very good feature myself in Madison (or at least a version of it) last November, it’s not so surprising that it’s becoming recognized. It is surprising, though to see the mission statement of the Maui Film Fest. It’s kind of spiritual, actually.

It all seems very lovely and inspirational. Get this. This mission is

The Maui Film Festival is built on the belief that great filmmaking is pure alchemy. When filmmakers choose to tell compassionate life-affirming stories, they can change darkness into light. It is this belief in the power of creativity to enlighten, as well as entertain, that is the guiding principal that gives the Maui Film Festival its character, its energy and its soul.

You can be as inspirational as you want but you can’t have a good film festival without funding, and you can’t get funding without sponsorship, and you can’t get sponsor ship without starpower, or in this case “luminarypower.”

A-LIST ‘LUMINARIES’
Since the inaugural Maui Film Festival at Wailea, the Festival has chosen an ‘ohana’ (family) of honorees that it prefers to call luminaries, rather than merely celebrities. As the Festival defines it, a luminary is a film artist whose overall body of work sheds as much light as heat and whose talent and work ethic place them in a category that transcends mere celebrity. A luminary is the real deal.

The list includes: Joan Allen (Galaxy Award), Angela Bassett (Pathfinder Award), Jessica Biel (Shining Star Award),Adrien Brody (Friend of the Festival),Tim Burton (Silversword Award), Patricia Clarkson (Pathfinder Award), Claire Danes (Nova Award), Geena Davis (Stella Award), Clint Eastwood (Silversword Award), Jake Gyllenhaal (Shining Star Award), Laird Hamilton & Dave Kalama (Beacon Award),Woody Harrelson (Navigator Award),Ted Hope (Trailblazer Award),Anthony Hopkins (Silversword Award), Helen Hunt (Stella Award),William Hurt (Navigator Award), Greg Kinnear (Navigator Award), William H. Macy (Rainmaker Award), Bill Maher (Maverick Award), Mike Myers (Silversword Award), John C. Reilly (Navigator Award), Rob Reiner (Lights! Camera! Passion! Award), and Owen & Luke Wilson (Shooting Star Award).

It’s all very fancy and certainly hopeful in a world growing darker by the day. Congratulations, Grassroots!

“The writer should never be ashamed of staring. There is nothing that does not require his attention.” –Flannery O’Connor

Would you think me a bit mad if I told you God spoke to me through color?

Most of the few people who I’ve told about God’s pigmental locutions do, in fact, think I’m a bit mad. But just as we don’t choose God because He chooses us (John 15), we don’t choose the medium through which he communicates Himself; He chooses the medium. For many the medium is lively and electifying: locutions, ecstasies, visions, dreams and direct encounters with the divine. For others the medium is hidden, mundane, in the “still, small voice” of prayer. Many hear and feel nothing. Such was the case of Blessed Teresa of Calcutta for over fifty years. She felt absolute nothingness for decades, but in that emptiness received everything.

Without divulging too much of my soul I can say that I’m often in the middle of that spectrum in my relationship with the Most Holy Trinity. However, at some points in my life, He’s appeared most sensationally to my soul. I use that word deliberately, for He uses my extreme sensitivity–to light, sound, words, music and even color–to communicate to me. It at times has been quite subtle, but at other times quite visceral and striking.

Perhaps in another blog entry, I’ll delve into my sensory interior drama with greater detail (it is kind of a long story). But for right now I will say that while the devil has access to our exterior senses and some of our interior senses, God has access as well. We must train ourselves in prayer and thought to be attentive to the still, small voice of God, whatever flourishing form it takes.

Color Notes for the Road:
*In the midst of my color journey years ago on a pilgrimage, I heard of the book “Astonishing Splashes of Colour” by Clare Morall. While the premise of the main character–having synaesthesia, a condition where one’s senses are crossed (hearing colors, smelling sounds, etc.)–is very interesting, in the end it was just a postmodern piece, colour without form or soul.
*An electronic palette for Colorphiles. I love this. This is linked to a recent blog entry on Color Etymologies.
* Color Matters, another Color web site.

To get to the Other Side!

I have a visually-based vocabulary and memory, so in an effort to develop my soul’s anamnesis sparked by a pilgrimage of the past, I decided to look up the Phoenix.

Here’s an succinct guide to Christians symbols by Fish Eaters, the slightly reactionary but undoubtedly faithful online community of traddy Catholics. 

Michael J. Lewis, a professor of art at Williams’ College, weighs in on the Schvarts Abortion Art debate.

HT to Matthew Milliner.