Whatsoever |
Whatsoever |
Today is Palm Sunday, the day that Jesus entered Jerusalem riding on a donkey. The story appears in the Bible in Luke 19: 28-44 In the Victoria and Albert Museum in London there is a striking piece showing Jesus on a donkey. It would have been carried through the streets on this day. The artist is unknown but it was made in the 15th century. As I made a drawing of this I was struck by how, humble, how strange and how vulnerable Jesus was with those bare feet dangling down nearly touching the rough pebbles on the road. Several years ago I wrote a poem imagining being there on that day
The blanket by Gillian Phillips I love this piece of cloth. It has been with me for many years- Given me warmth on cold damp nights Caught tightly around my shoulders Given me comfort when I have felt lonely When the noise and demands of life have been so great. I know it well – that burn in the corner from the camp fire last year That worn part from where I tie it tight And soft matted where it strokes my cheek. This piece of cloth has almost become part of me, part of who I am. And yet, yesterday, I let go. I saw another need No, not need. That beast didn’t need a carpet to walk on And that man didn’t need a donkey to ride on. But at that moment, on the road going down to the city I had a purpose To provide honour for this procession I could take part. I untied the blanket from my shoulders And with a glorious flourish, let it swing round And fall wide on that dusty ground And as I watched that man ride on He caught my eye, nodded, smiled. That part of me became part of that royal procession All around there were shouts, Some grabbed branches. There was Exultation, joy. But for me the joy was quiet inside, quiet underneath. It took me a while afterwards to find the blanket It had been kicked away as the crowd passed It is torn now, stained, thinner. And more, so much more precious It made a way for the King; I made a way for the King. A collage and print from 'The Blanket' I wanted to make an image from this poem. I started with the text, cut around it and pasted it onto paper that I had painted red. I then went over this with pastels and more paint. After taking a print from this onto clean paper, I cut the image down into strips, leaving the remnant of the words, and arranged them so that they made a composition. I then scoured into it with a lump of chalk. What has emerged has some of the pain of the days to come. Yet the print I made earlier is a more gently and hopeful image, perhaps pointing to the resurrection beyond.
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WhatsoeverThe posts are 'postcards' on my journey through faith and art. The name 'Whatsoever' comes from Philippians 4:8 in the Bible : Categories
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