brilliant Secret, aflame

Autumn… the dry rainbow after the storm of summer’s heat ◆ Relief in coolness and colors after relentless heat and unchanging green ◆ Rages and riots of colors that slowly and grandly sweep from the north across the land. ◆

A moment… How can such death and loss of verdancy be so charm-laden…? Examine a leaf closely and you will observe its decay. Weight, gravity, pulled-to-earth… Perhaps this “season” had no place in Eden; perhaps seasons had no place at all. Our Autumn is a time of loss, change, and preparation for winter’s cold and long sleep. How may Autumn flourish so resplendently, in laughing and burning? A celebration of emerald finally turned luminous ruby, citrine, and topaz; an invitation to revel in flames of beauty; nature’s brightest gala. Unnecessary grandeur? Unneeded splendor? Unplanned magnificence?

Troublesome pairings.

But. This existence may be. For this lament of the trees, the lungs of the earth bleeding brilliantly–is the revelation of their true nature, true substance. The Autumn rainbow has been with us all summer–only we could not see it. Autumn illuminates to us all the Sun’s colors stored, at last released to human eyes as summer’s viridescent life fades. Seen is the true, fiery image of the Sun, brought forth in the trillions of annual deaths of Autumn leaves. Wonder and amazement at a secret un-kept.

So as the Heart of God.

The forever-assumed flesh of Jesus, earned and bought by His death, shared with us–flagrantly on display, embedded within our unchangeable history, a thread of purest gold… The depth of Passion in suffering no longer a secret; the reflected Father unveiled; this light-giving, illuminating thread gives forth His secret–He, God Himself, would come this far to reveal Love; to flow Life into our lifeless bodies, to be one with us. The face of God is brightly, freely, and openly seen in Jesus, Heaven’s flame and radiant Jewel. He, invisible colors revealed in the chill of decaying humanity… This picture is not Beautiful because of His living decay within humanity only, but because His incarnation painted tangibly for us the true nature of God–the image of His Father, whom no one has ever seen. He is complete in throwing back and outwards and to all directions the Image; the fullness of God in Him dwelt. Exposed intricacy divine.

This revealing of hidden Beauty was planned; it was simply too grand for Eden.

This revelation, an intervention–to bring to us secrets of the depths of divine love, Heaven’s flame exposed to us.

And so our Lord is LORD of the AUTUMN

and all Sun-heart-colors dancing in their revelation

wisconsin fall (8 of 8)



water (1 of 1)

a step into the waters, the crowd is stilled–the wind had changed inexplicably

the cells of Spirit-sparked life quickly begin to assume a shape, tiny and unseen

“stop! I am not worthy–You come too close”

a human boy breathes
skin, muscles, bone, laughing-sad eyes
he speaks and loves and sees

taken by choice under the Jordan, breath held in his lungs,
his heart momentarily speeds its pulsing of blood–

miracles temptation questions pain wisdom suffering healing sorrow “Come to Me…”

s u b m e r g e d

the incarnation his baptism
his living, the death of us
his submersion into humanity, our complete and full reversal

though we protest to let You enter
and let you turn our faces to be Beloved.

drawn up to the mountain’s heart

Some journeys are long… Some wanderers travel far. Sometimes the world is more blue-dark than light… But the Light will be found for the seeking–this is promised. The mountain calls… come up, come up and out of the deep valley… The morning will dawn and shine on you, don’t be afraid. You will see His face and be near to Light… He who is Love. He walked the same valley once and walks it again with each one of us. His Presence is also promised even when paths lay beyond the reaches of light.



Watercolors and Maica 03 black ink. Painted for John, 08-09 ’14.

The Artist sees Himself reflected

◆ Light falls and traces the edges… ◆ The Artist sees Himself reflected in all He has made ◆ The wind, the waters, the notes of harmonies cast back the image of His Spirit to His eyes, their movements like His own ◆ See Yourself most in us, Creator Jesus ◆ let the rays of Your Goodness strengthen in golden beams what is You, and harden, bleach as bone, what is not ◆ Promise to dwell, speak, and breathe inside; lift, pull, daily carry us into You–{rest} ◆ just the faintest watercolor touch, sudden release of color, is like You… Come ◆ pine is of Your encompassing Strength, mint is of Your ever-flowing Life, cinnamon is of Your welcoming Warmth ◆ a small presence before Yours, but never ignored–to offer a soul to Your Light Heart ◆ to need; to wake; is the beginning of Life in You… then, ever caught in the Unseen ◆ scintillate through all Your people, glinting from chosen faces and voices as time moves ◆ oh return with resounding clouds and un-deaf-ening thunder, swallow up Yours with dense and dancing Glory ◆ Amen





untitled (3 of 12)


tree approaching


soaring sky




untitled (8 of 12)


untitled (9 of 12)


scene of fallen log

Pie Jesu Inverted

I had been seeing red for a few days… brilliant red, in the bottom right-ish corner of things. Create, create… the Spirit was pressing.

A tree’s trunk began to form in its place, a bold, vivid red, unashamed.

As the rest of the image began to form (rich, royal blue leaves, many-splintered orange and yellow suns…), frustration was a frequent and fickle guest. Uncertain of the picture’s purpose, its bright colors appeared childish. Only the tree was red.

But the Spirit would have it finished.

My love began to speak some of His words: “I am the true vine…” They filled the air and hung there, immanent, as He

Then, instrumental Pie Jesu broke through. Rich and soul-pulling to the moment of His deepest pain and deepest love, its melancholy chords ripe with the ever-interwined lament and beauty of His death… Just as He began to flow the red into the rest of the image, accenting the entire scene with it. He gently guided my fingers, His red bringing warmth to all the other colors, filling them… Everything made sense. And it was inside-out.

He gave His blood for us… To redeem and cleanse and make alive and make peaceful–oh how gently does redemption flow. Without His life within, there is no warmth, no kindness, no protection… His blood given for us provides all these things, drawing us into the Father’s household. Because He wanted to. Because He is love.

Pie Jesu Domine, Dona eis requiem. Pious Lord Jesu, Give them rest.

Pie Jesu Domine, Dona eis requiem sempiternam.   Pious Lord Jesu, Give them everlasting rest.

Taken with my iPhone just before it was joyously given to the one who was supposed to have it, after an Unexpected Appointment

Taken with my iPhone just before the picture was joyously given to the one who was supposed to have it, after an Unexpected Appointment


the itch of the earth





you feel it


the itch of the earth

stillness through layers

aching for her Creator to come and rake through her sediments with strength

and sift her depths anew



you feel it

somewhere a stony vein through the center trembles

she felt His breath

an exhale slow with dew and weight

rocks lie in piles, trees drive roots deep

waters seep

all move with her movements in tides

it is not enough


listen to her restlessness

ever spinning ever still


waiting since–

the entry of white teeth

into the forbidden flesh

of a mysterious fruit,

grown of her virgin soils


creatures burrow…

can you feel it?


the itch of the earth