apostles creed, herbs and mutant lettuce.

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today I need to produce a visual string of the apostles creed. so i will read it and think.

I believe in God, the Father Almighty,
the Creator of heaven and earth,
and in Jesus Christ, His only Son, our Lord:

Who was conceived of the Holy Spirit,
born of the Virgin Mary,
suffered under Pontius Pilate,
was crucified, died, and was buried.

He descended into hell.

The third day He arose again from the dead.

He ascended into heaven
and sits at the right hand of God the Father Almighty,
whence He shall come to judge the living and the dead.

I believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy catholic church,
the communion of saints,
the forgiveness of sins,
the resurrection of the body,
and life everlasting.


after some reflection on these words I feel the need to weed my garden. Maybe I got as far as "earth" and that set me off. I do know when I create like this I need to be true to the whispers of god or ultimately what is created is less than it should be. So instead of just launching into production mode I need to weed...

Armed with my funny foam knee pads...

(from other construction remodling endeavors) and putting on my trusty garden gloves that garauntee protection from garden evils real or imagined, I start to pull. I also have this little rake that i use to stir up the dirt. My garden is tiny, only 12 plants. 10 herbs and two lettuce. Except one of the lettuce is now as tall as me. I never knew that they grew like that. The other one is doing the same thing but it isn't quite so tall, so I pull it. The tall one I am going to leave just to see what happens. Call it survival of the fittest. My mutant lettuce.

I am grateful that my herbs are doing well. They are for Bryan's creative cooking sessions. I plant, he cooks, we eat. We team up like this in a lot of things. ...Ok train of thought off of the track. Reflecting on earth, creation, dirt. The dirt smelled fresh as I scraped the weeds out. Displacing worms as I went I tried to recognize the gift of the moment instead of treating it like a task. So often I miss those gifts even when I know they are a little repreive from god. Sanctuary from daily grind. No profound spiritual metaphors emerged but I scraped and pulled and finished feeling more awake, more humble, and more ready to create.

Nothing quite like being on your knees.

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About this Entry

This page contains a single entry by Blair published on May 26, 2004 9:12 AM.

art as an act of worship was the previous entry in this blog.

ode to aunt gladys is the next entry in this blog.

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