EARTH-GIRL

obsessively trying to understand what it means to be human

  • Studio Notes: 05.23.2026 – 05.29.2025

    I am behind on my projects.

    Since my last “Studio Notes,” I have fallen out of schedule. (Of course, this is a surprise to absolutely no one.) Time to adapt and overcome.

    Completed Projects:
    1. Mom’s Belated Mother’s Day Gift

    Projects that NEED to be done by 06.01.2026:
    1. Taco ‘Bout a Baby
    2. NEW Lemon Cutouts for the Baby Shower (a little frustrated that these got added to my plate, but it is what it is)
    3. Composition Studies (all nine)

    All three of these projects are in various stages of completion. “Taco ‘Bout a Baby” and the Lemon Cutouts I have to make will probably take me 3-4 hours to complete. Composition Studies have been moving a lot slower in these final stages than I thought they would. I expect them to take about 7 more hours to complete. (That’s excluding the time it will take to adequately mat them.)

    I am really glad that I have not planned to start writing a bunch until next week. My day job has been pretty busy this week, at least it has felt really busy.

    I need to update my spreadsheet to reflect my current progress.

    Other Notes & Observations:
    – I don’t love the way the alcohol ink has been working up, but I am not going to question it too much at this point.
    – I have some new yarn arriving today. Hopefully, these can become two sweaters by the fall. (I honestly need to be thinking about the Filet Crochet work that I want to complete this summer. One thing at a time, right?
    – Virgil Abloh once said that it’s important to “have six projects going at all times. If you don’t have six, you have none.”
    – I feel like I am learning a lot right now. Maybe learning from myself some, but definitely learning from others. A few weeks ago (about 5 weeks ago) I felt a great sense of urgency to get all of these things off the ground. Some life has happened since then, and I lost that sense of urgency. But in light of new developments, I am -again- reminded why I am doing all of this: I want to be my own boss, and to be able to make money doing something that I love. I needed that reminder. I need that fear.
    – My tomatoes have really taken off, so I have to figure out when I am going to repot them.

  • Studio Notes: 05.06.2026 – 05.15.2026

    Completed Projects:
    1. Sarah’s Baby Blanket

    Ongoing Projects for Now-June:
    1. NEW “Taco ‘Bout a Baby” – Due Date: Tonight, before bed
    2. Mom’s Belated Mother’s Day Gift – Due Date: Sunday, before bed
    3. NEW Composition Studies (all nine) – Due Date: 06.02.2026
    4. Hailey’s Baby Blanket – Due Date: 06.05.2026
    5. NEW Color Studies (2 studies) – Due Date: 06.07.2026
    6. Week One: What does the careful study of art have to offer? – Due Date: 06.12.2026
    7. Filet Crochet Series (two “regular”) – Due Date: 06.12.2026
    8. Color Studies (2 studies) – Due Date: 06.14.2026
    9. Week Two: Why should we study art? – Due Date: 06.19.2026
    10. Filet Crochet Series (two “All Saints”) – Due Date: 06.19.2026
    11. Lily of the Valley: Book Two, Part One – Due Date: 06.21.2026
    12. Filet Crochet Series (two “Christmas”) – Due Date: 06.26.2026
    13. Damaged Good: Developed Sketches (3 not-so-small-scale drawings of flowers) – Due Date: 06.26.2026
    14. Color Studies (2 studies) – Due Date: 06.28.2026

    If I can get this done, at the end of June, I will have:

    Fine Art
    1. 9 “Composition Studies”
    2. 6 “Color Studies”
    3. 3 Developed Sketches for Damaged Good

    Fiber Art
    1. 2 “Regular” Products
    2. 2 “All Saints” Products
    3. 2 “Christmas” Products

    Writing
    1. Week One
    2. Week Two
    3. 1/4 of Lily of the Valley

    Personal Projects
    1. Baby Shower for Hailey (banner and blanket)
    2. Mother’s Day Gift for my Mom

    Notes on Intentions for each item(s):

    PERSONAL PROJECTS
    These are somewhat self-explanatory, I feel.

    WRITING
    The “Art Appreciation” Series will go live on this blog. (Stay tuned!) Lily of the Valley will not go live, but I will try to find a portion of this book to bring to Open Mic Night on June 3, 2026. I think that will be a nice two-birds-one-stone situation.

    FIBER ART
    None of this will “go live” until October 1, 2026. I am undecided on whether or not this should be something that I publish on Instagram… I think I will just so there is some sort of context come October… I feel like a complete surprise doesn’t market well… But, I am so new to all of this… I am sure there will be a million things that I need to learn.

    I would like to try to work with Matt to sell these at his record store starting in August.

    FINE ART
    In a perfect world, I think that both my Composition Studies and my Color Studies would sell well at the Art Center. I am undecided if I should get prints made of them/try to sell them online. For now, I think trying to get into a more “traditional” brick-and-mortar is the way to go…

    If they don’t sell, or even prior to putting them in the Art Center, I think I would like to try to submit them as a show somewhere. If I am able to get them into a show, this might impact the pricing of the items.

    Personal Notes:

    I am trying to see deadlines as an accountability tool (Flowers for Spring? How groundbreaking?) rather than a punishment. The truth is simple: If I don’t do it, it won’t get done. As I try/want to become self-employed, I have to really recognize that my output is what determines my income. Weirdly, the pressure of “needing something to finish” hasn’t felt so heavy lately. “Needing something to be finished” has been the right kind of motivation I need to see things through… I would like to keep this momentum. I have a feeling this is all going to snowball very quickly.

    I have also decided that my social media use (for now) will be pretty minimalistic in terms of creation. I think the trick is just developing the habit of posting on social media… I can figure out better “marketing” at a later time. The biggest conflict I feel, related to social media, is the following: Do I just post everything? Or do I limit it to one thing? Specifically, do I omit “fiber art” in an effort to establish a “different brand” for that? Time will tell, I suppose.

    I cannot freak out, I just need to keep working.

  • 2017

    I know it sounds crazy…
    But I think I have died…
    For thrice I recall standing,
    surrounding my own grave.
    3 times I have slept,
    6 feet deep,
    in Earth’s homely cave.
    And, I’ve looked at my own flesh.
    Oh, those white-knuckled hands…
    As perfect sleep stayed permanently encircled
    by salty,
    eternal sands.
    And, I’ve wondered what it meant.
    The hands I have are
    too familiar.
    This is no reincarnation.
    So what then should be made of this…
    spiritual…
    decantation?

    With eyes turning inward,
    I can see all of my worst.
    The floodgates swing open.
    The storm cloud gives birth!
    And, I expose myself to the tempest within.
    I flail, and I struggle;
    only to drown in
    self-loathing
    sin.
    And, the sea mockingly laughs –
    tortures the land with her shrill,
    eternal song.
    And, my heart of great sympathy cannot help but
    to hold
    a similar note
    for a little
    too
    long…
    So my soul rolls;
    and, so my soul sighs.
    Churning up the dirt and confusion,
    Despair muddies the mind…
    This life is not sweet.
    It’s unfamiliar;
    it’s unkind.
    And, it’s too much to bear…
    It’s too much to know…
    I don’t want to be here…
    To be thrust upon the sword,
    it’s ’bout time that I go!
    Thalatta! Oh, Thalatta!
    Kill me quickly!
    Take me to pasture!
    Make it pain-free!
    I blink,
    and
    I’m gone.

    My soul’s left my body;
    my body’s laid to rest.
    I remain hovering above, suspended
    in that sweet moment of infinite
    death.
    From here,
    I see my life as a sum of broken pieces:
    my dad’s eyes, my mother’s ego, and my brother’s
    argumentative heart.
    And, I finally know what’s true:
    I am worth a new start.

    I am worth life?
    I am worth everything human:
    the victory and the strife?
    I’m worth beauty?
    I’m worth love?
    I’m worthy of song?
    I am worthy!
    Simple as that!
    Have been! All along!
    No one can take that from me!
    (No matter how hard they might try.)
    I can still feel the
    embrace of the sun,
    as thunder echoes
    ‘cross the sky.
    See, suffering is inevitable.
    Yet, joy strikes closer still.
    And we need not fear death;
    we must only fear
    the loss of that which
    cannot
    be killed.
    It’s with courage we embrace our breath!
    By courage,
    we cherish the warmth
    while there’s warmth to be had.
    We courageously love the hardest parts of life.
    Love them equally:
    Love the good!
    Love, even,
    especially,
    patiently…
    We must learn to love the bad…

    Oh, that sweet salt will forever sting.
    That winter wind will forever rub raw.
    And that cry of the wine-deep sea
    has been
    and will be
    darling death’s
    wakening
    final
    call!
    But, we hold true,
    if we hold fast,
    that wintery storm will be forced past.
    And, we will not die in an icy abyss.
    We will be laid down, on soft land, with aches in our wrists.
    And, you’ll know we have won
    when you stare down
    your
    own
    lifeless
    corpse.
    See your salt-burned skin!
    Wind-blown hair made coarse!
    And breath.
    Smile.
    Dare to return a joyful, playfully mocking laugh.
    For this life has just begun –
    and too soon –
    shall it pass.

  • Insignificant Updates

    1. I think my pepper plants are going to make it. (Hopefully, this is the last week of the bring-them-inside-bring-them-outside routine.)
    2. This is the 6th day in a row that I have worn my natural waves. I had a really great hair day yesterday.
    3. I have been “working the plan” so to speak…
      • I finished making Baby Blanket #1 yesterday. Now, I just need to…
        • weave in the ends
        • steam
        • block
      • I outlined my first essay, What does the careful study of art have to offer?
      • I have not missed a day of workouts.
    4. I made my own coffee this morning, and I took all of my vitamins.

    I am trying to keep my goals small and compoundable. In the past, I always tried to do too much too quickly. I am proud of myself for letting myself take things slowly. (This is only the second day of week 2. September will come quickly, no doubt. But, time seems to be moving a little slower than normal. I consider that an answer to prayer.)

  • Re: Starting From Scratch

    TL;DR: Starting over means starting over. You cannot run into freedom while looking to the past (trying to do so will turn you into a Pillar of Salt).

    04/23/2026

    Last Thursday, I met with one of my art-friends at a local coffee shop. The purpose of this meeting was to feel out my current project. It’s hard to say that I was disappointed by the conversation (since I am able to recognize that it might have been unfair of me to have any expectations in the first place). Nonetheless, I think that the conversation was, in a word, disappointing.

    I didn’t expect a pat-on-the-back. I didn’t want a pat-on-the-back. I didn’t get a pat-on-the-back. And, that’s good. “Atta girls” only go so far when you’ve hit a roadblock. But the conversation was difficult… I didn’t really get any unique or new feedback… There wasn’t anything that was said that was particularly interesting or challenging… In many ways, I felt like I was trying to vouch for an unfinished product. And -in many ways- that’s all I was really doing.

    04/24/2026

    The following day, on Friday, I had spent some time in the studio. My objective for the evening was two-fold: I needed to make progress (of any variety) on my project, and I needed to make sense of the lackluster conversation that took place the day prior.

    I figured that I needed to do some composition/material studies… So I created an egg-tempera-acrylic-hybrid paint and painted a series of pink squares on 140 paper. (On a very unrelated note: I actually love the paint formulation that I was working with. I think the fact that I painted on paper eliminated 90% of the issues I was having with just egg tempera on the Corelle, and it made the process monumentally easier. I still have to figure out how to get this to translate to the plates, but that is a battle for next week.) While working on these little composition studies, the following ideas were floating through my head. These are listed in no particular order:
    1. Why was that conversation so difficult?
    2. What is the dollar amount that my plates are worth? (If $40.00, then why do I care so much about the quality of the idea they are carrying. If the idea is worth more than $40.00, then what is the idea worth? Is that a weird way to think of ideas?)
    3. These plates aren’t as good as I want them to be. Is that because of my skill set (maybe, but unlikely)? Or is that because I am trying to do one thing, and say another?
    4. Why is my previous experience failing me in this moment?
    5. What am I trying to do, or accomplish? I am taking steps toward that? Or are my goals misaligned with my actions?

    Needless to say, my time in the studio was incredibly frustrating.

    So, I took a moment and asked myself the following question: If I wasn’t me, if I was someone else, what advice would I give myself? What honest advice did I want from my friend that I did not get?

    Then… I had a beer, and I went to bed.

    04.25.2026

    “What advice would I give myself?”

    That question really stuck in my mind and ruined my morning. I was supposed to go to a bookstore opening with a friend (in part to support the local business, and in part to encourage my friend to be more vocal about the book she has written). I cancelled. Instead, I stayed home and crocheted.

    “What advice did I want? What is the thing I need to hear, but that I didn’t hear? Why was that conversation so disappointing? Why do I always have to vouch for my ideas?”

    “Why do I always have to vouch for my ideas?”

    There it is.

    That’s the root of the problem.

    I realized, as I was sitting at home, trying my best to chip away at 1 of 2 baby blankets I am making for my friends, that my problem isn’t my ideas… It’s the quality of their execution.

    See, I haven’t ever commercially engaged with the arts. In the past, I haven’t been able to. I have always run into the same obstacle: I feel like to “get” what I am trying to do, you have to know me. My work cannot speak for itself.

    The fact that strangers cannot engage with my work in a deep and meaningful way, at least without me present, speaks directly to the quality of work that I produce. My work “needing” my voice is not a good thing. It is the very thing that is holding me back. My work sucks!

    So, no wonder this conversation I had on Thursday was awful… I was trying to reason around problems that aren’t the actual issue. I was doing the very typical and expected thing that I always do: overintellectualizing. The truth is so much simpler than that. The truth is that I have a very good idea, a very valuable idea. I just need to make work that convinces others of its quality without needing additional context or conversation. It needs to be self-contained and self-evidently important. If not, why would any reasonable person care about it?

    I walked down to my studio and looked at the terrible plates that I have been working on. They are on their third iteration. Every time I have restarted this project, I have tried to redo the same thing… with better materials. Every time the project has felt like an increasing failure…

    I like this concept. I think this body of work (if I am ever able to see it through) will contribute good things to the world. I am hopeful of that.

    It will never do that as it exists.

    I have to start over.

    Damn.

    04.30.2026

    I am trying to find freedom in the very little I have. This past week, I have really deconstructed my studio practice. I’ve taken all of my artwork off of my website. I have deleted all of my Instagram posts. My primary fear, now, is replicating the past. If I am going to start over, I need to truly start over. I cannot look back.

    On Tangent: I’ve never been able to wear my hair curly. In all of this, I have decided that I need to learn how to wear my curls. I want to be the kind of person who takes morning showers. I have never been that kind of person. If I can figure out how to wear my hair curly, I might be able to become someone who takes morning showers.

    Here’s to washing dishes and morning showers. Cheers!

  • lowkey pissed, but I’ll get over it

    I’m too tired to be comprehensive, but I need to document this so that I don’t forget…

    1. If the goal is to appeal to people at large (people outside of the “art world”) -> I should abandon egg tempera, as acrylic would be better suited for the project.
    2. If the goal is to appeal to people within the “art world” -> I need to modify my expectations for the visuals of this project, as using egg tempera is a more compelling medium.

    I am inclined toward #2. I think that is the integrity move.

    The only remaining question I have is: Is this too kitsch to be competitive?

    Either way, I am going to have to start from scratch.

    Womp. Womp.

  • Earth Day

    It’s my lunch hour. The sun is out. I’m at a comfortable local coffee shop, where I was expecting to meet a friend for lunch. (Turns out this friend was unable to make our meeting. Usually this would annoy me, but I might have needed some quiet time to myself after all. A man rode past, on his bike, listening to Hawaiian music via a Bluetooth speaker attached to his handlebars. It’s a good reminder that life isn’t always so hard.)

    Yesterday, I attended a Noah Kahan album preview/listening party at my local record shop. This shop is owned by someone I want to call a friend. I am meeting that person at this coffee shop, this time, tomorrow.

    I shouldn’t be nervous for that meeting, but I am.

    As much as I love talking about art, talking about my art is incredibly difficult for me. I’ve always been afraid that the way I talk about my practice is fundamentally disconnected from my practice, itself. Tomorrow will be an interesting test of that.

    I am pretty well married to my current concept: using egg tempera to paint kitschy flowers on old, chipped diner plates as a way to challenge/question how ideas around femininity change with age. I’m calling it, “Damaged Good.” The idea seems solid enough. And, I trust my ability to turn out a relatively successful body of work… I just cannot settle on what I want the final outcome to actually look like.

    When I started this series, I wanted to play it safe. Realism is a crowd-pleaser. I know that. I am capable of that. But, I don’t think that egg tempera applied to Corell will work up like I wanted it to. The colors reconstitute too easily, and they don’t layer very well. I could change this if I just changed the paint. Acrylic would solve most, if not all, of these issues… but…

    I think using egg yolks to paint on old Waffle House plates is funny. I think it adds something, even though I’m not sure what it adds exactly. Plus turning to acrylic paint just because it’s “easier” to work with feels a little cheap…

    So, the way I see it is this: Either (1) I need to restart so that I can produce a “more consumable” product that leans toward traditional realism, or (2) I need to restart and fundamentally change my paint application. Fundamentally, it is a choice between kitsch and concept.

    My instinct is to commit to the bit.

    We will just have to wait to see what my friend has to say about it all…

    For now, I’ll just enjoy the sun.

    Happy Earth Day!

  • Only the Necessities

    Only the necessities; only $20.00.
    Cat food, hairspray, milk.
    Cat food, hairspray, milk.
    Almond or oat,
    Oat or Soy,
    Soy or…
    2% it is.
    But, only a half gallon:
    “Only take that which you need.”
    My grandpa would be proud.
    I should call him sometime this week.
    His age is starting to show, and he needs to know that I think of him often.
    He needs to know that I could never forget about him.
    He used to put whole milk in his coffee,
    whole milk and half a bag of sugar.
    Well, not really half a bag…
    just enough to warrant criticism from my grandma.
    She meant well by it.
    He never took her too seriously.
    He deserves to know that he will always be loved-
    that I will always love him-
    no matter which side of Heaven he calls home.
    I put the 2% back.
    Whole milk it is.
    But, only half a gallon.
    My grandpa is a good man.
    Okay.
    What’s next?
    Cat food, hairspray, milk.
    Cat food, hairspray, milk.
    Oh my gosh, is that Thomas?
    Hey! Thoma…wait…
    That’s not Thomas.
    Thomas lives in Wisconsin.
    Last time we talked, he seemed to be doing better.
    He’s working at a grocery store, but he could do so much more.
    It’s hard to watch one of the smartest people you know become crushed by the burden of learning; to see joy turned to torture and never to joy again.
    College wasn’t kind to him.
    At least, not in the way he needed it to be.
    College was hard for me, too.
    But I’ve recovered.
    I can still see the good.
    Most days…
    Some days, all I see is a wall of Oreos.
    S’mores. Doublestuffed. Lemon. Mint.
    Sugar stuffed sugar in a bright blue package to solve the world’s problems.
    It’s easier to satisfy a sweet tooth than it is to acknowledge a loss;
    but, I’ve gotten better at managing myself.
    Immediate gratification is never the answer.
    “Suffering produces perseverance;
    perseverance, character;
    and character, hope.”
    Verse 3
    Verse 4
    Romans 5
    I hope that someday Thomas is able to find the hope he left
    in that pale lecture hall.
    I know it’s still there.
    I know because I saw it when I went for mine;
    waiting like a half-full Nalgene
    under a broken chair.
    I don’t need Oreos.
    They aren’t on the list:
    Cat food, hairspray, milk.
    Cat food, hairspray, milk.
    Cat food, hairspray
    Oh, that’s a bad idea.
    That’s a bad call.
    If Oreos won’t solve my problems,
    then that would make them much worse.
    I have to work tomorrow.
    It’s already late, and
    I have no one to share it with.
    Would I really drink a whole bottle alone?
    Alone.
    There are no other options.
    It’s just me right now.
    It’s just hard to breathe right now.
    Am I really going to cry?
    Here?
    No.
    Focus.
    Only the necessities; only $20.00.
    Cat food, hairspray, milk.
    It’s just my allergies.
    It’s just the dust.
    I’m fine, I just have to keep moving.
    Beef and Salmon Savory Delights?
    Good enough.
    Wait.
    Did someone call my name?
    Hannah?
    What is she doing?
    It couldn’t be…
    If that was Hannah,
    she would have greeted me with a kiss on the cheek
    and a bear-sized hug.
    She would squeeze me tight,
    wouldn’t have let up.
    She would know that something’s wrong.
    She’d ask. I’d lie.
    She’d see straight through;
    she’d shake me and sigh;
    she’d insist I tell the truth.
    I would.
    I would tell her about the pregnancy.
    And, from the quiver in my voice, she would know about the loss.
    6 weeks and 3 days.
    I met my baby with hands covered in blood.
    Hannah would cry for me;
    I cannot afford the tears.
    Only $20.00; only the necessities.
    Cat food, hairspray, milk.
    Cat food, hairspray, milk.
    Cat food.
    Hairspray.
    Milk.
    Stop!
    Not now!
    No!
    I can’t do this here…
    I must retain my sense of control and decency.
    I’m an adult for Pete’s sake…
    …so, why do I love so easily? Why do I let people in?
    How is it that strangers can become loved ones, and loved ones strangers again?
    Do I haunt the lives of those I’ve loved? Do they remember I exist?
    Do they see me in the unknown? Would they recognize me in the mist?
    Is it a two-way street, memory?
    Can you remember those you have yet to meet?
    Love those you don’t know?
    Has the future been made permanent already?
    Is it kept with the storehouses of snow?
    Or, do we only see the ghosts of love lost?
    Could we be haunted by a love that’s yet to come, yet to be said?
    Does love leak out of that perfect place,
    where there’s wine and butter
    and freshly baked bread
    …to meet us where we are?
    Where we are.
    Where we are.
    Where am I?
    On one side there’s blended carrots, potatoes, and peas.
    There’s newborn size diapers, bibs, blankets, and a colorful set of keys.
    On the other there’s whiskey, bourbon, beer, and grog.
    There’s sleepless nights. There’s anger. There’s endless, unfeeling fog.
    In the middle stands a phantom,
    with my husband’s blue eyes
    and my mousy brown hair,
    wearing little, denim overalls
    with embroidered teddy bears.
    I never meant to hurt you.
    I know.
    Will you be home for dinner?
    I’ll be a little late.
    I’ll save you a seat.
    Be good.
    I will.
    Promise?
    Promise.
    Tears flood my vision;
    the stranger slowly fades.
    “What has been is what will be,
    and what has been done
    will be done.”
    I didn’t know that angels
    could stand at
    two foot,
    one…
    No.
    Focus.
    I just need to find hairspray.
    Hairspray, and I’ll go.
    High hold?
    High shine?
    Humidity-resistant?
    Instant Freeze?
    Inhale slowly.
    Exhale.
    Take it easy.
    Relax.
    Just breathe.
    None of this matters.
    I grab some Diet Coke, as I go.
    I scan my items.
    I pay.
    I leave.
    I feel like I’m forgetting something.
    Only the necessities; only $20.00.
    Cat food, hairspray, milk.
    Cat food, hairspray, milk
    Cat food, hairspray, milk..
    Something’s missing?
    What is it?
    What is it?

  • March 5, 2026

    I wish I had something witty to say, but I don’t.

    It’s time to work.

  • A Little Walk with Many Flowers

    To the dear Mark Potter and Henrik Soderstrom,

    I apologize for my very delayed response. I have been meaning to write to you both for quite some time…

    Back in October, we met for a delightful lunchtime conversation. We had talked about the sort of intellectual game-playing that takes place in the secular art world, and (more importantly) the fact that Christians are called to be set apart from worldly patterns. Most of our conversation, then, was about what it might look like for a Christian Artist to engage with a secular landscape without compromising the standard of love that Jesus set forth. After I left lunch, I made a point to write down one “actionable” curiosity for me to pursue. This was that curiosity:

    What does it mean to pursue others by way of parable within the arts?

    After much thought and prayer, I think I have some sort of development…

    See, in the Gospel of Mark, after His baptism and temptation in the wilderness, Jesus comes forth and says, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe in the gospel.” (Mark 1:15) From the very start, Jesus was as honest and open as possible. He was never trying to hide.

    It’s puzzling, then, to consider why so many of Jesus’ teachings exist in the form of parables. As I have prayed about this, I have begun to wonder if the effectiveness of Jesus’ parables is somehow related to the Fall of Man.

    When Eve was deceived, it was because she was seeking some secret thing; some sort of awakening or information that God wanted to keep from humanity.

    But it made me wonder about the nature of parables… As finite human beings, we aren’t always satisfied with the simple truths. We like the idea that the universe is filled with wondrous secrets for us to find. In many ways, then, when Jesus appeals to humans by way of parable, He is sort of allowing us to indulge that impulse. Jesus’ parables allow us to “discover” the Gospel “on our own.”

    And this is a grand illusion. Jesus is the Alpha and the Omega. There is not a grain of sand He does not know. He knows what has been, is, and what will come to be. The “trick” of Jesus’ parables is that there is no trick at all. The Gospel is simple. It does not withhold. It is truly amazing to think that Jesus chose to teach us in such a way that we might feel empowered by our “discovery” of His Truth.

    So, now my question has changed. Instead of trying to figure out how a Christian artist might be able to “play the game” of the secular art world… I have been praying about the following:

    How can I make art that shares the Gospel in a “discoverable” way?

    In some ways, I feel like I am back at square one. But this little walk has been wonderful, and there have been many flowers along its path.

    I would love to hear your thoughts,
    Haley