We have a dear coworker as a houseguest for a few day. Otherwise, all is still around us.
I've been listening to a free app of background noise while working. Today's tranquil sound is the duduk, an Armenian instrument.
Isn't the world a fascinating place for curious people? Whether it's listening to a new instrument, exploring a new technique, or reading books from people you've never met - we're so blessed to explore.
Life can also be a puzzle that's not yet finished or understood, somewhat like this print-in-process.
Since I'm working from home this week (sniff, cough, sneeze), I play in my art books during breaks. There are so many ways to see the world. I think an artist's job is to see the world and redefine reality for others.
Apparently, I need to sketch more Asian faces - my default is still mostly Western, though the colors and patterns are becoming more interesting.
We're looking for the next thing on our programs and the big poster for the international church wall. The theme is "Learn from Jesus" during Lent, leading to Easter. Isn't this beautiful? I have to find the artist! I love the vibrant colors and international shapes.
I walk every day, observing the natural rhythm of rainy season. There's a progression of mushrooms,
leaves, and pruning.
The clump of leaves above are enormous - this is at least 6'X7'. It reminds me of carefully constructed "tropics" landscapes in Seattle. Here, things just go wild once they're set in the ground. These grow in the middle of a steep bank along someone's hedge. It's nothing special until you really look at it.
Indonesian yardmen can be brutal. They chop off every branch of a tree that gets too tall. The bare trunks regenerate within weeks and become lush growth again. It astonishes me.
Mom says I've always loved growing things. Yesterday, the weekly yardman hacked away an extra 2 feet of lawn to give us a bigger flowerbed for flowers along the porch.
Our date day last week was into the hills for whatever catches the eye - for the price of a medium pot at Molbaks (Seattle nursery), I pick out a jasmine, a few twirly red flowers, and a lipstick palm. Pak Lili shoves them into the ground after tearing out 6' tall marigold-like flowers that have taken over the back of the garden.
I toss in a few handfuls of fertilizer as the dirt goes in - but is it needed? The volcanic soil "grows everything." (Yup, there's an active volcano bubbling away about 10 miles up the mountains.) There's a saying that you can "Put a stick into the ground and it will sprout" in Indonesia. I think it's true. During rainy season, there's a shower or two every day between sunny patches. No need to take care of anything, besides chopping back what grows too fast.
On my office desk is a cylinder with a beta in it - the twigs are from the tree and the plants are from the old bathtubs found in the backyard. When I'm stumped as far as details,
The paludarium in the office guest seating is soothing, dripping with water. It's filled with plants found along the road: little orchids, grasses, and ferns. It reminds me that our heavenly Father oversees the smallest details of life. We can trust Him to take care of us, too.
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* And this is my prayer: that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight, so that you may be able to discern what is best and may be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ—to the glory and praise of God. Philippians 1:9-11NIV
Prayer:
Jesus, you who know us and still love us, thank you for the quiet days. Thank you for the times when we don't even know to ask for a pause. Thank you for the Sabbaths that refresh our souls. You are good, and your mercy endures forever and ever. Amen