Poem: Let your God Love You

Last night I was making my holy hour (really, a half hour of contemplation but that’s what I call it anyway) and, because I could feel my ability to stay awake slipping from me, I decided to engage in contemplative abstract art. Using pastels.

About 15 minutes in a voice chided me and said, “This isn’t real prayer. You’re not directing your thoughts toward God. You are not being still. You’re using God as an excuse to play with crayons.”

Well, maybe so. God gave me this desire, this gift of being able to be satisfied to play with crayons for a half hour even at age 54, this childlike love of colors and art, this source of joy. And I decided to use it in His presence, being the Me He created me to be. Thankful for the space and time and the resources to do it. I wasn’t physically still, but with art keeping distraction and drowsiness at bay, my ever restless mind rested in 30 minutes of what God gave me to love.

I think about how I look at my own children when they are enjoying something, engaged in some activity they love, and they aren’t aware that I am watching. Like when Olivia moves to music she loves. I know that in that moment I couldn’t love them more, just for being who they are. Why would God not rejoice in watching me similarly?

And, in this morning’s meditation from JesuitPrayer.org, this wonderful poem:

Be silent.
Be still.
before your God.
Say nothing.
Ask nothing.
Be silent.
Be still.
Let your God look upon you.
That is all.
God knows.
God understands.
God loves you with an enormous love
and only wants to look upon you
with that generous love.
Be still.
Let your God love you.

Edwina Gately (b.1943), published in There Was No Path, So I Trod One

I like to make lines. They don’t have to be parallel.

matrix drawing 111219

I have no talent or training. And not a whole lot of time or dedicated space. But I like to draw and make art. So I do what I can do, which is draw lines.

Sometimes the lines line up. Sometimes they don’t. Recently I’ve been into, let’s just say, intuitive variation on repetitive themes that I make up. Which also means that I pick out a basic process and then follow that process with variations I introduce as I go along.

I often do this as a form of contemplative prayer. Meditation, if you will. The repetition of my art process works as a kind of physical mantra which keeps my focus and wards off distraction. I weave my prayer into the process of doing the repetitions and iterations.

One day I will go to art school and learn how to do real art. But why should I wait? I’ll just make my own stuff up until then. And use it to keep myself in the Holy present moment while I’m at it.

drawing lines and curves 111219

Way Back Machine: Versions

I paid my crossimpact.net bill last week. Two more years. I figure I need to use this for something. I don’t know exactly where my writing mojo went, but I am not discouraged enough not to re-up on my domain name.

I was going through some old files and came across something I wrote back in 2001. See, I used to write stuff and enjoy doing it. Maybe I’ll do it again someday. I just paid 60 bucks to save my space for another two years, so…

Anyway, here’s what I wrote. Very futures-ish. Intended to be funny.

Successfully? You be the judge.


I had to terminate myself the other day.

no, there’s no body,
no smoking gun,
just some empty disk space
where I used to be.

Versions of me, that is.

my friend works for this startup,
he recruited me as a beta tester:
you’ll get a kick out of this he said
he had me sign some waivers
I should have read more carefully
and then he gave me the box.

don’t i get a demonstration? i said
you shouldn’t need one, that’s part of the test — usability.
it should be easy to make working copies of your mind.
send them out to do work, watch TV, take classes.
And upload the new experiences later, at your leisure.

The scans could be configured with your choice of three interfaces:
DiskMe — a living version of you on with a GUI front-end
WebMe — an intelligent web bot with your mind as a driver
EmbedMe — a version of you that could be loaded into any machine with a CPU and enough memory

i put my first scan — me 2.0 — to work as a WebMe
do that quarterly report, i said
and gather the trends research.
he knew just what I meant because he was, well, me
i’d go to the office, he’d surf the net doing research. that was the plan.
i came home from work that day. report was done. research looked good.
just like i’d have done it.
this was cool.
so we’d separate every day and have
— literally —
a meeting of the minds each evening
and catch each other up.
i was a good team. my productivity doubled.

until i found out how naughty i’d been.
2.0 apparently didn’t have enough work to keep him busy
2.0 didn’t take lunch or bathroom breaks
2.0 didn’t engage in water cooler gossip
what 2.0 did was cruise the VR chatrooms
after a week or so i began having some
impressively realistic memories
of sex with virtual women i never even met
they were just avatars, but the sense memories were very real.
2.0 was a virtual reality casanova in his off hours.
apparently i’m quite the ladies man
when i’m not stuck with this body
who knew?

my wife was not amused.
i didn’t touch them, i pleaded
i didn’t even have cybersex
it was an electronic copy of me
having cybersex with animated women.

but those women are in your head now
and your copy scan thing wouldn’t have cheated
if the potential weren’t in you in the first place
get rid of that memory and i might forgive you

my wife was right.
i had to revert my mind to the backup copy of myself
i wisely made before I set 2.0 to work
i lost a week’s worth of memories
and a two-day training class my employer sent me to.
I had to shell out a thousand bucks and take two days vacation
to take the course again before my boss realized it was missing.

and at my wife’s insistence
2.0 was banned from the net.
i have him answering my email.
he talks to my kids while i’m still at work.
i turned him onto Halo so he wouldn’t get bored.
and now i’m apparently some kind of badass game guru.
without fingers his reaction time is instantaneous
my name is reknowned in gamers’ circles. i get fan mail.
so i have that going for me.

3.0 was born out of frustration.
i couldn’t find my car keys.
So i made a quick copy of myself
and loaded it into my cleanbot.
(he has the same OS as my computer so it was easy)
i asked him to skip his regular cleaning chores
and see if he could remember where i left my keys.
this was going to be a quick copy I’d delete
after i had my keys back.

but 3.0 had other plans.
i came home and he had my keys in one claw
and an injunction in the other.
the PETA people helped him get it.
apparently there’s this law against the indiscriminate termination of cyborgs.
but you aren’t a cyborg, i said. you’re just a robot,
you have no biological material.
well apparently there’s this legal precedent
— Cybercolonics vs. Fischer —
that classifies brainscans as biological material
for the purpose of cyborg termination cases.
seems i was stuck with 3.0.
so i put him to work too.
you know all those books you’ve always wanted to read
but never had the time?
well when he wasn’t cleaning i had him read for me.
War and Peace, Finnegan’s Wake, Harry Potter.
But he doesn’t clean very well anymore.
he only does the kind of lousy job i would do.

4.0 was my worst.
he almost bankrupted me.
he was a web bot with the, um, libido removed
i sent him out on the net to help me with research.
by the end of the first week he had filed
twenty-three separate lawsuits
against twelve large companies.
apparently some of the larger sites on the web
don’t allow bots to access their pages.
so he filed suits under the civil rights laws
alleging discrimination against the disembodied.
he also filed under the persons with disabilities act
alleging that not having a physical presence qualified as a disability
and so they had to allow access.
the companies counter sued alleging criminal violation of network security
it was gonna get ugly. my lawyer quit on me, overwhelmed.
i finally reached a settlement with them
4.0 had to go. delete. empty recycle bin. defrag.

i gave the scanner back to my friend
he asked how it went
horrible, i said
my first two scans rebelled
and i had to kill the other.
could be worse, he said,
you could be raising teenagers.

Beauty on Aisle 3

Photogographer Denis Darzacq’s series — “Hyper” — is some pretty amazing and beautiful stuff. Amazing because he captures dancers in gravity-defying poses that make them look like ordinary people floating as if it were nothing special. Beautiful, at least to me, because of the juxtaposition of such remarkable gestures on the backdrop of an ordinary grocery store. I love art which finds sublime things in mundane context.

(warning: not all of the portfolios on his site are family or work friendly. Stick with the floating people.)

A True Bill Fold

My current duct tape wallet is getting a bit old. So this will be my very next craft project — the folded paper wallet.

This is perfect. It combines my modest iconoclastic tendencies with my old love of origami and my growing love for quotidian materials such as paper, duct tape, cardboard, etc.

I wonder if this will work with Tyvek?

Information Heart

I am a visual learner. And I have a desire to be a better visual communicator both professionally and personally. So I was delighted to find this rather exhaustive periodic table of visual communication methods.

I am increasingly interested in information art lately. It’s like a “seam topic” that brings together my interest in art, mathematics, lean six sigma, futures studies, and even my faith.

This Lenten Season my project is a visual survey — a “map” if you will — of the four parallel Gospels. I have learned a lot so far, being able to see the four accounts of Jesus’ life and teachings in parallel like that.

One thing I have learned is that the weight of the Gospels is about what Jesus taught. I think modern Christianity tends to focus more on who Jesus is and what he did at the very end when he died. We tend to dismiss him as a teacher more or less. I don’t think the two should be separated from the same context, but they often are. We take him out of context way more than we should. But you kinda hafta see the context to get that impression. Hence the need for visual communication.

Another thing I have learned from this Lent is that, as much as I love information art, I lack many of the skills needed to execute it. I want to take some graphic design classes.