week 7 | may 3 - may 10

BLUE

God is the giver of all good gifts. The blue of our lakes and rivers, a blue bird, a blue bell, a cloudless spring sky—all these things seem to bring peace, vitality, and a soul-stirring kind of nourishment in a time when we need such things badly. And yet the state of our world in a time of pandemic can lead to feeling disoriented and disheartened, or frankly, “blue.” In the submissions below you’ll experience color and beauty and sorrow and joy through birds, fish, flowers, volcanos, kitchen aids, and perhaps even a rhythmically gifted blue man or two. These, and more, await you in this week’s’s creativity project.

Dunrovin 166 - Jamie Kaihoi.JPG — Blue Bird

Jamie Kaihoi
*photography*

Sue Wessin’s Virginia Bluebells

Molly Ruch
*watercolor, crayon & pencil*

Heart of Blues

Melody Villars
*ceramic*

3B59ECAA-4A4C-476D-9911-D31866A0D1C0 - Melody Villars.jpeg — Blue Velvet

Melody Villars
*ceramic*

Midnight Sledding

Sam Hamer

A last December sled down Grandpa’s hill,
Surprised to see beneath a bright blue moon,
A seldom second light at end of year,
Bouncing, we laugh then slide through half-dark air.
Too soon too fast to steer we skip and tilt
Now spinning back to see our shrinking start.
We know we'll find a bump at the bottom
Where the frozen pond levels all our runs.
Still, there’s a kind of thrill not knowing when,
Or if at this run’s end we’ll pass the mark,
Or just wipe out, a shock of snow on skin.
As after moon its fullest witness bears,
If, so surprised at first to find this fun,
Then why not dare to trust another run?

Blue Static

Liv Keuning
*balloon & tiger lily*

F97AE68E-C965-4148-B7D5-95E71E5CD79C+-+Rebecca+Galstad.jpg — Mother’s Day Flower

Marissa Galstad
*paint & pencil*

20160517_165002 - Lorri.jpg — Blue Sky, Blue Water

Lorri Eiswald
*photography*

Blue

Steve Hunt

B-L-U-E

/bloo/

Adjective

The primary color

between green and violet

in the s p e c t r u m

Blue:

sky

Grass

Lagoon

Bayou

Eyes

A dog’s name and

r

i

v

e

r

s

And of course

Cheese, whale, ray

A moon and blood

Berries and collars

Black and blue

Out of the

Into the

And baby blue too

With an s it’s music

And ew is a verb

But mostly, blue is

cool.

The Lord Did Not Forget

Mary Olsen

This painting by Mario Fernandez has hung in the Olson’s home for over 35 years.

The blues and blue greens in this painting of the dove returning to Noah are so hopeful. I too feel afloat these days with few plans and close human connections, yet resting in the security of God’s presence and provision.

Sky Blue

Sue Awes

May 6, 2010 will be remembered by many as the day of the eruption of Eyjafjallajokull, the Icelandic volcano. (This unpronounceable word has far too many syllables!) For days air traffic in and out of Europe was halted as the thick volcanic ash cloud muddied the air corridors of all major airlines. Plans of business people and travelers around the world were put on hold and life for some came to a standstill.

But in Bradford-on-Avon, a small city 2 hours west of London, a minor miracle occurred. A gentleman of the town, Mr. Alistair Carr, recorded the event:

“For five consecutive days, after the early mists burnt away, the early-morning skies over Bradford-on-Avon have had the appearance of a child’s painting, small white fluffy nimbus contrasting against a rich blue background. This beautiful blue, worthy of Chartres cathedral glass, lasted throughout the day until just before sunset.”
“All this changed on Wednesday morning. The blue was slashed by linear white contrails. These quickly spread into wispy cirrus then merged into an overall wash of pale blue. The beautiful contrast of pure white against deep blue had gone. I realised what I had always considered to be a blue sky was just a faded version of the real thing.”

Blue sky! The people of Bradford-on-Avon saw blue sky for the first time in years. It had been obscured, not by volcanic ash, nor by faulty remembering, but by the ever-present vapors exhausted by airplanes.

Some days we fly over and into cities whose sky is dulled by smog, and I wonder, ‘do these people remember blue?’ Some children of the city never make it to the country to see either the deep blue – or the black – of the sky. Some people of our times have forgotten the Milky Way and nights awash with stars. We live in a city with tall trees and buildings all around and city lights and sodium street lamps – and we call it a starry night when we can count them! But deep in the country, as on the north shore of Superior, the stars are without number, the constellations apparent, Saturn’s rings visible.

Bishop Desmond Tutu celebrated blue on the day that South Africa held its first biracial election, in which Nelson Mandala was chosen to lead the new government:

“Oh, 1994, April 27. There won’t be a day like that ever again. I mean, the sky was blue, with a blueness that had never been there before.”

We know the sky. We know it well, and have studied it since we were children. I remember as a toddler lying on the grass and absorbing that the clouds were independent of the blue and moved in their own ways. We know how our own spirits are affected by the moods of the sky. It brightens our imagination. Flying dreams are said to be the richest of all. We watch the soaring birds in wonder. We send up kites and rockets, balloons and space shuttles, satellites and telescopes. We visit planetariums and take flying lessons. Astronomers and meteorologists spend their lifetimes studying the sky and its weather. It is a gift, this canopy of sky.

And when God made space and worlds that move in space, and clothed our world with air, and gave us such eyes and such imaginations as those we have, He knew what the sky would mean to us. And since nothing in His work is accidental, if He knew, He intended.” C.S. Lewis

Sketchbook Blues - Naomi Hamer.jpg — Sketchbook Blues

Naomi Hamer
*ink & watercolor*

20200510_140922 - Jennifer Asp.jpg — Blue Chemistry

Caroline Asp
*experimental materials*

I mixed this together for fun.

IMG_3745 - Andene O'Neil.jpg — Baking in Blue

Julia Tennison & Lottie Ruch
*blue kitchen tools & blue clothes*

Young friendship in a time of social distancing—virtual baking.

Bluer

Sean & Andene O’Neil

This song, and others on the album from which it came, was our soundtrack on repeat during the season in which Sean and I fell in love. It's a gorgeous album, though it might be viewed as an odd choice for new love.

The album, Drunkard’s Prayer, was written largely during a season of turmoil between the husband and wife duo Over the Rhine. They were considering ending their marriage; years of song writing, touring and performing had been rough on them. After a period of separation, they reunited at the kitchen table with a bottle of wine to share and talk and connect and love one another through their pain and vulnerability. They would not leave the table until the bottle was empty. Karen and Linford said they kept this habit as a discipline of their reconciliation. Of course, being poets and musicians, a beautifully tender album was born out of both their separation and reconciliation. Falling in love while listening to these songs may seem strange, but in a way it expanded our capacity for grasping true and tried love even before we walked those roads ourselves. We learned to play and sing this song together before we were even engaged.

The song Bluer is mainly a lament. In these gorgeous days of spring God meets me and I am filled with smiles and joy. And then in a song like this God meets me too. I can join in the grief of those around me and tend to the sorrow in my own heart as well, which sometimes needs music in order to find its way out. Take a listen to the album here.