Christmas Present

The midnight snow so eerily
reflects the glow of shame
as, in the shadows, creeping hearts
writhe, terrified by pain.
And as the sun begins to rise,
wraiths gust in Christmas, drear,
again exposing weary souls 
to sleeting hurt and fear.
Reminders of the past rise high
and darken dawning day
with walls like stone that will defy
the light's attempt to stay.
And hemmed in deep with lack and loss
the burdens borne become
crushing stones engraved, so scarred,
their holes consume the sun.
In creeping death and dim decay
a single hope remains,
a Savior who both died and lived
and his astounding claim
that all who live in him shall die
and die in him will live.
It is a shining mystery,
this gift of love he gives,
dispelling ghosts of shattered past.
The walls are broken down,
till faith grows bright community,
and grateful praise resounds.

---

For Random Acts of Poetry, and Noel Ghosts: A Christmas Giveaway where Dave is giving away a copy of Contingency Plans: Poems. Follow the link above to find out the guidelines and read other entries.

Ten Vials of Blood

Oh, helpful vampire,
there's no simple word for your single-toothed bite.
Your dangerous cousins may laugh in scorn,...
but I?...
I shudder.
Metal and modern you may be,
but you're still foreign to me.
Your only benefit is keen 
reliance on senses I've never seen.
And I?...
I shudder.
Ten vials of blood remain, forlorn....
Reassure me again that this wasn't spite?
Oh, helpful vampire ...

---

Modern medical ...

Made up my own poem form, since I felt like symmetry tonight. Might even look like something official, in which case please inform me. :P

Click on the image below to read more blog posts written with a sense of place.



I am now on muscle relaxants. Hopefully this means tomorrow will be less painful.

Sick Leave

I'm separated from the life that you all live, today.
There's nothing more that I can do
and nothing I can say.
What matters most is that we feel it like a mystery,
that you are still near to me.
You play together in the room where I can't see.
And the smile from your laughter
reaches out to me.
What matters most is that I know that you will come to me;
you are my treasure, you see.
Life can just be like this, a thing we can't explain,
and sometimes what we love the most
will still cause us great pain.
And when my weakened body breaks beneath the strain,
you are still dear to me.
I'm separated from the life that you all live, today.
There nothing I can do to change it,
nothing I can say.
What matters most is that you choose to love me all the same,
and you are still near to me.

---

It's obnoxious to feel pain in the presence of normal levels of sound, and to be easily overwhelmed and exhausted by activity and interaction. There's no way to explain it to anyone who hasn't experienced it, and I never thought I'd experience this.... Thankfully, my children seem to understand, a little. I hope the doctors can come up with a solution, though.

Fear and Being Real

I always admire people who just put things up there to be seen. They draw a picture or write a story, and they share it ... no wondering whether it's good enough, no hesitation, no checking with three other people to see if it's a good idea. Or, at least, if they do dither in the shadows I never see it on their blogs or their faces (if I know them). I'm following in admirable footsteps, from whom I am learning a new sort of bravery in this risky venture of sanctification.

I am many things in the silences. The spaces between the glimpses you see here are broad and shadowed. But the thing is, this life is meant to be a demonstration of God's grace, and it is sometimes in the shadows, in the silent hopes and quiet dreams, in the redemption of failed efforts and broken promises, that grace shines the most brightly.

I'm learning to be unfinished, flawed, experimental, raw and real.

Real shocks people. It isn't shielded or veneered. It's sometimes gross, sometimes unexpected, sometimes incomplete. When I'm real I am misunderstood because I'm between the beginning and the end, and finished isn't here yet. When I'm real I expose my mistakes and sins, all the things I don't want people to see because it feels safer to seem empty than to overflow and make a mess.

I don't like being a problem for others. I don't want to be something they feel they need to solve. I don't want to be an obstruction, a blockade, damage that needs to be repaired. I don't want to. But I am.

The thing is, throughout all this messy, gross, broken, failed, mistaken self, there is Christ. He is the fire that burns me to ash and the shaper who frames lines of unbreakable light that cut through my flesh with the framework of his perfection upon which the new tissue of my transformation is stitched. Should I hide away his beauty along with my brokenness? I think not.

Perhaps I will become even more brave as time goes on. Perhaps fear will no longer whisper curtains around the process. The only secrets I must keep belong to others; the rest of my life is becoming an open book,... the sort that one might read in a state of revulsion or perplexity, perhaps, but open all the same.

Let God demonstrate his grace. I'm counting on him more every day, because if it were just me there would be no value in openness, no good in transparency. Only in the light may such choices become blessed. And I will cling to the light until every shadow burns away.

If Ever I Were Thankful

If ever I were thankful,
I would say it in a way that no one else would ever claim
and I would never say it just the same
if I were to be thankful.

I might rhyme out the words big
in phrases that could never mean just what you thought they did,
and it would be confused in every way
just what it is I mean to say.

Oh...

If ever I were thankful
I would speak it softly in the ear of someone that I know
or maybe I might yell it out for show
if I were to be thankful. 

I might write it on a post card;
use a paintbrush inked with strawberries on biscuits made with lard;
or just direct some child yet to grow
to sculpt it out of fallen snow.

Oh...

If ever I were thankful
I might make a list and check it twice then hide it in the rain,
or maybe just declare it all the same,
if I were to be thankful.

There's never just one way to know...
If ever I might be thankful...
Muahahaha!

---

Kudos to those who survived long enough to figure out what classic song's rhythm I borrowed for the phrasing. Any guesses?

This Today

This today is not yesterday, dear one,
so finished, so anchored, so sure.
You must stand on the past, my dear one,
not dream what it could have become.
And, today is not tomorrow, dear one,
with it's sheltered hopes still insecure.
For today is this moment, dear one,
and tomorrow will be when it comes.

Image:  "Dreamer" by Karenee, Digital Art, 2010

This Moment of Hatred and Trust

 Oh, how the mind seeks to change the world.

The wrong, wrong, wrongness of war against life.
Selfish hands grasping for might, for power, for more.
Dropping pain from above upon embittered hearts,
exploding the world into shards of empty strife.

Oh, how the heart shouts to change the world.

The empty, empty, emptiness of nothing casting back
upon the shores of greed, where the rocks gasp, grasp,
and tear at the waves washing slow in a rhythm
too fast for the souls of mankind to contain.

Oh, how the soul weeps to change the world.

The wild, wild, wildness of an ever-more tear
rips whole the hole by the passage of passion
to separation of ways like a virus corrupting
the inner workings of life toward death.

Oh, how the passions rage to change the world.

The yearn, yearn, yearning to set hand upon the reins
and discover that the raging, weeping, shouting, seeking
finds sure path to change; pull hard to discover
the bit between our own teeth all along.

Oh, how we all must change to change the world.

---

I can't change the wars and rumors of wars.
My reach doesn't extend so far as to soothe such troubled waters.
But even here, as I open my will in faith, I find so much to believe and do.
And it seems to me that a heart guided by God may cause stronger ripples than it knows, for it is his hand and power that channels the hearts of world leaders.

---

From reading of the North and South Korean re-activation of overt conflict ... "north korea bombs south korea" is the Google Trend topic I chose for Dan King's Wednesday Trendsday blog post prompt.

Also, this poem is going into the One Shot Wednesday poetry platform, where bloggers from across the web post poems and link them together for your reading pleasure.
(Edit:  Changed 6-10 words for smoother transition of ideas, on 11/24/10)

Scene

Between a thought and the act
the world changes, swift,
and a moment, new-made, is filled,
leaving paths no man can change
to evidence the progression of time.

Short and Brief

I am tomorrow
when yesterday
is today.

---

Sometimes words make knots.

Creative Cookies and Containers

Decorating cookies with Linda.

This is what Linda does with cookies... look ....AMAZING!

This is what I do to cookies when I'm at Linda's house...

Please note I do not "do" cookies on my own at home. It's too much bother. So it's thanks to dear Linda that I got to have fun with these today.

And Linda told me the scrolls made her think of Cinderella's carriage, so the wheels are totally "her fault." *wink*

In other news, I made 25 of these boxes this afternoon, also! A lovely lady at church commissioned them from me. She's going to create little mini-bentos in each one for the Sunday school class! I think I'll create a step-by-step tutorial of how to make them, and finish with a photo of the food she puts in when they're done, so keep an eye out.

A Reversal and Choice

It could be said: 
Though you think you're defrauding me,
I choose to give.

I wonder how much this random thought reflects God's command to go two miles if you're asked for one. After all, the legal ability of soldiers to demand help in carrying their belongings infringed on the time-management and comfort of the average Israelite beneath Rome's law.

The biblical example may be expired, since Rome no longer commandeers our camels, but the attitude remains possible in many circumstances. We can, in fact, turn the infringements of those around us into an opportunity to make our own choice to serve and love them.

Perhaps this choice is an exhibition of God's glory in our lives even brighter than volunteering may have been, originally, if only because our natural irritation or rejection tendencies are so strongly "reasonable" in such a case, and thus the contrast of willing service is all the more vivid.

Side-note for the legalists:  I can't stress enough that this is a free choice, and not something anyone should demand of others, Christian or not. Live this attitude first, yourself, and share the benefits. Perhaps your example might be all that is needed to lead others to do likewise.

I'm interested if you'd like to share instances of this attitude as illustrated in your life, the lives of those past, or in the Bible. I can already think of several... *grin*

Contingency Plans - Photo Prompt

Unexpectedly on a plane traveling toward family, 
love shaped the scenery with hope.
While grief silently washed upon the edges of thought,
grace whispered peace in silence.
Sometimes a plan doesn't become until it is,
and the watching is a part of knowing.
And trying to capture the moment
reveals an unexpected reflection.

More than it might have been.
And a mystery.

Meeting C.S.Lewis - And Prayer

Yesterday I took an exploration through the church library to see what might be seen. This used to be my common practice, though I've abandoned much of reading these days for more practical (or impractical) matters. But upon encountering a shelf labeled "Prayer" I paused to read the titles more closely.

Prayer is becoming real to me as it never was before, though it has always been practiced to some extent or other on most days. Perhaps it is simply that God has grown larger in my perceptions. It may be He has finally thinned the scales of my soul (which obscure the light of possibility) enough for me to begin scratching from the other side to see what may be seen through the gaps into glory.

I found C.S.Lewis's Letters to Malcolm.

One day I shall very much enjoy meeting Lewis. Of course, at that time, who knows where Christ will use him within his kingdom....  But from an earthly perspective he remains a good conversation, even when his half remains unchanging and uninfluenced by my own contribution. He both reigns wild conjecture back toward truth and casts imagination over the invisible in such a way that it cascades over the solidity of God's grace, bringing unexpected glimpses of glory.

I find myself thinking that prayer ought to be less an effort and more a state of being, until every thought becomes also a prayer, just by arising. In this way my heart may rest entirely upon the understanding that God is both the structure of the loom and the hands that weave the threads of relationship and event into the tapestry of time.

Prayer then becomes an acknowledgment and active participation in these things so that when I am turned left or right by God's direction I am compliant and glad to move rather than resistant and snagging upon any rough patch that comes my way to slow the progress. Prayer is also an admittance of the connection points, of the interrelated nature of the church, of the rubbing of one color against another that creates a third hue to the watching eye. Actively believing that God is neither blinded by black nor determined to weave only with gold frees us to accept both colors as part of his will when we encounter them.

I don't know how to phrase this thought in concrete or practical form.

Defined structure in prayer is of assistance only in that it makes us aware of how much we may entrust to God that we might otherwise fail to notice; and his many promises shoot through the invitation to participate like the hooks upon burrs that ensure a seed will attach and travel to the place where it will plant and grow into faith. The final result is so much greater than the promise seems at the beginning, not ending so round and prickly as we thought it must be at first glance, but branched and leafy and full of fruit.

These thoughts would not have taken shape but for reading Lewis. They have long remained nebulous, or at most framed in the not-quite-real language of the soul when it opens at midnight and speaks with God about things unseen.

I find I cannot write if I am not responding,... or, rather, I cannot think if I am not responding. It is the very existence of relationship that makes it possible to ponder. And, between God and myself, I confide these ponderings as prayer before they overflow upon screen and page to permeate the relationships in which he has connected me.

The more I pray the deeper everything becomes. It is not as though reality was ever less, but that I become aware to the point where I now know there is a depth beyond which I cannot see nor sense, but whose effects I can now glimpse where before there seemed to be nothing or a false shadow of unreality.

Relationship cannot exist without God.
I cannot exist without God.
Prayer cannot exist without God.

Somehow, these are all the same thought, approached by slightly different angles. Prayer seems to be the active agent that awakens us to how much God really is, past, present, future, and eternally. Knowing this, "pray without ceasing," is not so unreasonable a command as we may think.

The more I think God is in every moment, the more I am praying. Or, rather, the more I think he is and agree to be a part of what he is doing, the more I am praying. It is participatory as well as acknowledgment.

I could go on attempting to clarify, but these thoughts are becoming more nebulous the further I go. Perhaps this is all that was meant to be said, or perhaps I have already spoken further than I should have. There is always a "what if" element and you shall never know what I edit away upon review, though you may think I have left more than I ought or possibly removed more than I might have left.

This is where relationship enters. As I related to Lewis with this post as consequence, so you now relate to me, and perhaps to him as well. Each of us is now connected to the many thoughts Lewis found to resonate in such a way as to cause his letters. In the end, we are more connected to one another and to the re-enforced echo of God's presence than could possibly be calculated.

Did you read Letters to Malcolm? What thoughts did the reading provoke? Or even, what do you find resonates within you when you read the thoughts drawn into the open by my own reading of this book?

From what direction comes the breeze
that brushes cheek and turns the leaves;
that whisks a scent and moves a cloud,
releasing sunlight from thin shroud?
And by what means do we perceive
the many gifts we each receive,
and gain the good so often lost
by not inhaling? Uncounted cost.

---

I'm adding this to "On, In and Around Mondays" where participants write about where they are and link together to read each others' contributions. I don't usually write about places. This place from which I wrote today may not entirely fit the meaning they pursue, I don't know. But there is a library and a book and an eternal placement in God, so hopefully I will be permitted to "get away with" my sense of connection to their thought, metaphysical though it may seem. I recommend following the link and reading their insights for the further joy and thought inherent in the process.

To Give What?

This time I want to give
but what do I have?
A hand.
A heart.
A thought.
And what does it mean
to cling to what cannot be kept?

This time I want to give
but what do I seek?
Strength.
Love.
Wisdom.
And it means everything
to cling to their source in service.

This time I want to give
and there is so much.
Grace.
Peace.
Life.
And meaning from the Maker
gives too much to hold alone.

Awaiting Time

past whispering reminders calling through
time
with distant sibilance of presence yet too near
time
to change the ways and means of life before
time
returns claim and triples consequence of
time
paying back the forgetting of all we were in
time
with the impending rhythm of cyclical
time
in rotation of cause and consequence
time
conceals and reveals beneath ignorance or wisdom so
time
turns with less excuse and more reason because
time
waits for no will to change the world before
time
edges onward toward the precipice of
time
concluding this woven tapestry of
time
suspended upon the infinite within eternity

---

It is not so much the time we don't have, but the time we don't treasure that escapes us.

A catalog poem, written from the RAP prompt, though not completed in time for the Wednesday deadline.

I spent the beginning of this week on an exhaustingly speedy, there-and-back-again trip to spend some time with family as we rejoiced together over my grandmother's life and that she is now celebrating grace in the presence of our Savior.

Learning Paul's Perspective

The reason to live remains more simple than is believed
by all those who pursue,
striving onward to grasp the more that isn't, in an effort to control
something of nothing.
Oh how empty it would be to have only power.

It is greater than every dream, gasping for purpose and success
in this evil-stained world,
and strong enough to handle the pains we wish to avoid and those we cling to
so fiercely.
Oh how empty it would be to have only pleasure.

It is brighter than every glamor and the destructive inhalation of more
than any heart can hold,
and burns through the obstructions that block perspective
from all that is right.
Oh how empty it would be to have only passion.

For when power and passion pour through the heart, shaped
by a will not our own,
pleasure is found in facing and following a leader worthy
of every sacrifice of service.
Oh, how filling it is to have only Christ.

Phil. 1:20-25 ... so now also Christ will be magnified in my body, whether by life or by death. For to me, to live is Christ, and to die is gain. But if I live on in the flesh, this will mean fruit from my labor; yet what I shall choose I cannot tell. For I am hard-pressed between the two, having a desire to depart and be with Christ, which is far better. Nevertheless to remain in the flesh is more needful for you. And being confident of this, I know that I shall remain and continue with you all for your progress and joy of faith ...

Oh, How it Flows Like Bitter

There, in the misty quiet of the space between words,
it comes,
the regret of good not done.
Oh, how it flows like bitter, making the liquid moment weep.
No choice now
but to choose a new pattern somehow.
Here in regret light fades as the shadows of the past turn scourge.
Don't run 
when obstructions burn in the sun.
Oh, how they flame like pain, purifying the past; new paths to seek.
Learn and know.
With grace let the future glow.

Giving up Everything

Releasing everything toward my Creator
gains my heart more than it ever could hold.
Trusting him even when life is the darkest
is rewarded by seeing his grace unfold.
Waiting to see what the Master is shaping
is less of a strain than demanding my way.
The end of the path and the pattern he's making
hold eternal treasure at the end of the day.
And the mystery hidden within his promise
to give me his wisdom, his strength, and his life
is unveiled somehow through holding him, honest,
as by grace he exchanges my worth for Christ.

Transparent

The process of living a life that is seen
means everyone knows when I'm not what I seem
and they see all the pieces that shatter apart;
they watch as I fall over my broken heart.
But I hope they will see
the Maker of me.
The process of living a life that is clear
is giving up lies and giving up fear,
admitting to faults and not pretending
that perfect responses are pending,
so they will see
the Maker of me.
The process of living a life that is true
is honestly showing my struggles to you
and carefully speaking from where I have been,
not thinking I'm better than you or than them.
And you might see
the Maker in me.
The process of living a life that is full
is permitting the breaking and letting sin go;
it's trusting the light that is making me whole
and weeping within this sure presence, I know.
And through pain they see
the Maker of me.
The process of living a life that will shine
is never claiming that this life is mine
but always clinging to love and to joy
with kind responses to those who annoy.
Even enemies see
the Maker of me.
The process of living a life that will last
is offering dreams and my hopes from the past
and turning them over into gifting hands
then following, wiser than I understand.
May everyone see
the Maker of me.

---

This poem is joining many others at One Stop Poetry, where you may add your own poem to the group every Wednesday or simply read the hearts of the poets who contribute.

Art by Faith

People may not call this a business policy or a valid means to set pricing for a product, but it is what it is, idealism and all...

The value of my art is not in the price, nor even in the perceived worth of the time, thought and effort invested by this flawed artist, but rather in where the ripples travel and the souls touched along the way. This value, my friends, is created from anything or nothing by the hands of God alone, and we do not have a measure capable of defining it.

From now on I refuse to place a price on my originals. Make an offer.

So long as your offer covers the cost of shipping (packaging, shipping & insurance will probably be less than $10) and the drawing has not been promised or sold to anyone, I'll sell it to you.

I do request that you let me know why you want the drawing because that knowledge is extremely valuable to my learning process. I want to converse and understand how art affects you; however, this isn't a requirement in any way.

You will find it easy to offer what you can afford when the artwork is meaningful to you, and if you can only cover the cost of shipping, then it would be selfish to keep it from you for that reason. We will trade gifts (appreciation for art) and trust God to invest worth into the transaction. (For charity/fund-raising requests, see the Q&A below.)

You might wonder why I toss the responsibility of this decision onto you, the viewer of my art.

Read on to understand a little more about the thoughts behind this crazy process.


1. I simply cannot calculate gain and give generously at the same time.

Art isn't a mere business, in my mind, but rather a way to develop relationships, to understand and encourage people. I can't think of it as a way to profit without constantly jabbing at my self worth to see if it's bigger or smaller today. Oh, horror! I'd rather find worth in God, thank you. It's far more stable and unquestionably more beautiful to focus on the treasure store of his guarantee to be the provider of strength, wisdom, righteousness, needs, gifts, and love in spite of me.

2. I've no clue how this will work.

It seems, at the very least, to be a hopelessly idealistic way to do business. But I choose to hand management over to God until he brings someone along to take over the selling and marketing of my work. This plan is the best option for my circumstances of all those I've considered--if the least sensible on the surface. But then, God chose things the world considers foolish in order to confound those who think they are wise, and there is always the chance that this will turn out to be just such a situation.

3. God uses what we entrust to him, even if we don't completely understand what we're doing.

I don't know what use God has for me or the thoughts and dreams that swirl around when I rest within his immeasurable capabilities. I don't know how he will direct my willingness to love people and to glorify him.

All I know is that I've told him I'll share every beauty or wisdom he teaches me, serve with every characteristic he's developing, and go anywhere he leads--or invest only from home if that is best. I must say this seems most likely, since it's the norm. Either way, no right choice will sacrifice caring for my family, though there are many ways to bring home with me on this path and teach my children the process of journeying through faith. My life may end up looking boring from the outside, yet be fully poured out to God's glory; or it may appear convoluted and impossible, yet still remain fully supported within his will. In handing my dreams over, I am confident that God is good, and that is enough, no matter what.

4. No emotional or physical loss could possibly infringe on the gain of God's presence.

It may be that growing up as an missionary kid is partially to blame for this view, but I think every need (physical, emotional, financial, marketing, etc.) will be provided by God. I am his artist and this is his art. Any relationships, whether personal or business, that twine through life are valuable beyond price, and this frames how I create.

Why not entrust not only the creation of my art and poetry, but the use and benefit of it to him as well? I can't scrape more bounty to myself than he can pour into me just by marking me his own; and if I focus on getting more and turn my eyes from dependence on him, then--no matter what I keep--I will have lost immeasurably, beyond understanding.

5. In the end, please don't dither over your offer too much.

If you think of a price that is comfortable to your pocketbook, and you value my art enough to bring it home where you may interact with it more, then we can do business. My self-worth is given to me by Christ, and what you pay for my art will not change that he has made me family, nor could it ever compare in value to all he has already done for me.

The benefit I hope you receive, by God's grace, cannot be defined by financial or numerical symbols either.

I will marvel that God is blessing me no matter what you offer, because I look for the work of his hand in every event of life, and have so far never failed to find it.

I look forward to interacting with you. Thank you for your interest.



---Random Thoughts-&-Answered Questions---

The section below is for those who find this thought process intriguing. I'll probably add answers to questions to the end of this as time goes on, so this post will probably turn out to be rather long. If you just want to know what my art costs, you now know all you need to know in order to contact me.


---What if I can't decide how much to offer you?---

If you specially request it, I'll tell you what other people have paid, with a warning that you'll be comparing what you can offer to what they offered if you ask. The natural result of knowing enough to compare simply can't be helped, so I'd rather you didn't know. You will only receive a range, from "just shipping to this many $$$" and not a single specific price for anything I've sold unless the buyer specifically requests that I share the price paid. (I'm not sure why they would, but it's possible, from what I've read about art and value and selling...etc.)

I'm also open to trading my art for your skill, though at this present time I can't negotiate on the base price of shipping. I'm not particularly good at designing web sites or marketing materials. I'm easily confused by the thought of self-promotion to the point where I do nothing because I have no clue how art culture works. I'm stuck even in thinking about how to design a business card. So, if you can help me with constructive solutions, then I will gladly send you one of my drawings in return.

---Is your art framed? How will it be shipped?---

No, I don't provide frames or matting. First, you know what frame suits your home. Second, the color of the matting and the frame style will bring out different qualities of the image depending on what is chosen. I can link you to what I recommend for the drawing, but the art itself will be shipped to you flat between two pieces of cardboard (or whatever proves to be both inexpensive and strong). I won't roll it into tubes for the sake of my own sanity. Too many things can go wrong in the process. The paper I use is relatively inflexible, and will probably become more so as I acquire better materials.


---Can I commission work from you?---

I'm not sure. My health and personality combine to make this a difficulty. Sometimes everything flows together and an idea forms beautifully into art. Sometimes I'm sick and I don't understand what to do with an idea, and in the end nothing happens. All I can say is that I'll give you first chance at what comes from your idea, if anything, and I'll ask you to name your offer when the work is complete so there is no confusion.

I can't guarantee that I will produce what you want on a schedule, then change and change again to suit specifications. There are other artists who do this type of work beautifully, and can manage it. I can't right now, and I won't pretend even to try. Someday this might change, but I've a lot of growing to do before it will happen.


---Would you provide a drawing for __insert name__ fundraising?---

Send me an email and we'll talk. There are some causes I choose not to support, and many more I'd jump to help. Keep in mind that my art is currently sold unframed, and I don't have the funding to frame and ship, so it would have to be a joint contribution.


---What if you don't make a profit?---

I've already wrapped my mind and heart around the "worst case scenario" of not making a profit, and I'll trust God to build whatever value he desires of all I give to him, even if it's not monetary. If I don't make enough income from art or writing to purchase more supplies?... I'm sure my family will ensure birthday and Christmas gifts help out with this dilemma.

As of now there has been enough of a financial return from art to refund the cost of all but my electronic equipment into the family budget. I trust God to manage the quality and use of my work and the tools to accomplish his purposes. And, I'll let you know when he supplies so you can rejoice with me and see what work he accomplishes as a result.


---How can I buy Prints?---

I can't offer prints on a name-your-price basis, because I'm not printing them at home, but they are available at my DevArt page for whatever base price the site charges. I will make a profit, but I've made no attempt to inflate their base percentage. It's the lowest common denominator, 20%. And I'll use that income to maintain my paid membership there.

I'm making it a policy to modify all my prints in some way, changing the color of the lines, cropping the image slightly, or anything else that comes to mind, including digitally coloring the background. This way the original will retain its unique state and won't be confused with a print. You might prefer the print once I'm done, though.


---Where can I view the available originals?---

Once I have my main gallery organized, I'll post the preview of the original next to the altered print so you can see the differences. I'll also list the available originals and mark those which have found new homes.--This is a work in progress. Please visit my DA gallery, in the meantime, where I post all my art as it's completed. I will do my best to update the comments there when the drawing finds a new home.


---How do you plan to use the income?---

No, nobody asked this question. I just think, considering the unusual pricing policy, that you ought to have a window into where the money will go. I aim for transparency, having no secrets of my own (though I keep those entrusted to me and don't force anyone to listen to mine).

10% from the top will go to missionary/ministry support.

50% will initially go into the family budget since my husband is job-searching. Later, I will direct this portion toward unexpectedly large business expenses or relational outreach. (i.e. The costs inherent in cherishing friends by meeting their emotional or practical needs. I dream of having the ability to travel to friends when they need support or encouragement, but that is a VERY LARGE DREAM, and not one I could ever demand of God.)

40% will be invested in business, promotion, and art tools or join the tithing percentage, depending on the needs of the moment.

This sounds ambitious, perhaps. But I'd rather have a general plan in place for whatever may come, than to scramble later to arrange a new system under the influence of shock, surprise, or a sudden rush of greed. One must be cautious of those sneaky temptations that come with the feelings of success....

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Any questions? Comments? I'll even accept and respond to snide remarks, so long as they are moderately civil and answerable.