Whiteboards, Blackboards and Wordscapes

"It is not enough to like good books.

You must be a good book yourself."

Francois de Fenelon

1651-1715

"In the beginning was the Word.."

John 1:1

Today is day seven of my fast and my books are calling to me. I love books. The affair began with Pop's Reader's Digest Condensed collection. They made a good highway for Matchbox cars. The uniform size and large quantity afforded me bridges, tunnels- even skyscrapers to frame my literary landscapes. Everything changed when one day I looked inside them. I discovered wordscapes. My Mom allowed me to join a Book of the Month club, in lieu of allowance. Still, five decades later, books remain my highway.  But it is from books I am fasting.

Sunday, my wife asked, "Why do you read so much?"

My immediate response was, "It interests me." I knew there was more but I couldn't articulate more. So I  pondered that question the rest of the day. Then it occurred to me, the truer reason why I read- first, I continually seek answers to a never ending list of questions and second, I want to know what others think.

These titles patiently await my return:

Visio Divina

edited by Mel Ahlborn and Ken Arnold

Universe of Stone

by Philip Ball

Bright Earth

by Philip Ball

The Artist's Rule

by Christine Valters Paintner

The War of Art

by Steven Pressfield

Rumors of Water

by L.L. Barkat

and

A Long Obedience in the Same Direction

by Eugene Peterson

I haven't placed all reading on hold, just 'informational pleasure' reading. For twenty one days I have chosen to read Scripture, work-related emails and student work only (I teach a creative writing class... I can't ignore their words for three weeks. If you'd like to read some of their words, click here).  I have noticed that, while I am not reading more scripture, I am 'chewing' on the text longer. After all, one of the purposes of fasting is re-focusing, restoring clarity to our time-perspectives through reflection, or as they say in the South, "Chewin' on somethin' different for a spell." As an aside, I've noticed notes and drawings that have worked themselves into my Bible. Here are a couple of them, transcribed to my Moleskine pocket journal:

Theatrum Dei
Calvin Seerveld

Four Stages of Mastery
Lance Wallnau

As I reflected on the sketches, I thought about the lectures associated with them. Both, Dr. Seerveld and Mr. Wallnau, used Whiteboards for visual aid. I like chalk. It's earthy. I like the residue of words on my fingertips. Sometimes I let it remain. But, this is the 21st Century. This is the age of the Whiteboard.


Fourteen days of "chewin' on somethin' different" remain.


Here is a photo from one of my lectures for you to chew on- 

The Hands and Feet of Art
Michael Carter

Photo by
Samuel Carter

sacro speco

There is a wet chill on the deck this morning so I grab a jacket from the hall closet. I am in sweat pants, a t-shirt and a tweed jacket. A spectacle for none to see. In the near distance a woodpecker is searching for breakfast. This is my 'alone-time' with God, my sacro speco. Him, me, coffee and Harry. Harriet is her name but we call her Harry.


Harry came to us, or as my wife says, "was brought to us". It happened in Memphis, Tennessee. One day there were two cats on our deck. One was small, the other 'looked rough', battle weary. Memphis can be hard on a cat. "He looks like an Ozzie," my wife said (alluding to a rock star of that name). "How about Ozzie and Harriet?" Perfect. Ozzie stayed for a day or two. My wife said that Ozzie was making sure Harry had a good home. 

Pine Cones in a Sycamore Tree

Sixteen Candles

Photo by

Teresa West Carter

My youngest child is sixteen. Sixteen years of yesterdays.

Where did they go?

Hanging over our deck are the branches of a Sycamore tree. Zaccheus would have difficulty climbing this one. A Muscadine vine has taken residence in the branches, dropping grapes onto the deck for Harry the cat's entertainment. There is something else in the branches, something odd; pine cones. I first noticed them a few months ago. Pine cones in a Sycamore tree. As I pondered this anomaly, I looked higher and discovered that a Pine tree towers above the Sycamore. So I wonder, am I the Sycamore, the pine cones or the muscadine?

Sometimes I have odd thoughts. 

I suppose. And yet, into this life some pine cones must fall.

Happy Birthday, Emma.

Watch out for the pine cones.