The Pastoral Artist
Some years back, when I was training as a Stephen's Minister, a fellow trainee and I started a running joke about cows. The details of how it started are a bit fuzzy. It had something to do with setting boundaries.
At the time, I was a professional studio artist, creating works for gallery shows, and was painting a series of cows and rural landscapes. The concept of boundaries in our training was being presented as fences. Within the fence you were free and could roam around at will. Outside the fence, you had problems. Jan and I started a riff about cows frolicking in the pasture. I gave her a drawing of a cow outstanding in its field. She shot off puns like rapid fire. I sent her an e-card featuring a cow lurking in the grass with the tag line 'moochas grassius.' She would send something back about partying 'til the cows came home. We were somewhat of a trial to our trainers, but we did have the concept of boundaries nailed down.
The painting series of pastoral landscapes was a success. All the cows sold and I was on my way to expanding my gallery representation. But as the philosopher/songwriter John Lennon said, “Life is what happens when you are making other plans.”
After years of estrangement, my mother contacted me and needed help. She was starting to lose her memory and wanted to ask for forgiveness before it was too late. That began a journey of a new pastoral type – shepherding my mother through the ravages of Alzheimer's.
Mom has been gone a few years now. I'm moving back into art, but in a new way. A way of healing, prayer and ministry. I'm a pastor of art. The pastoral artist.
Some years back, when I was training as a Stephen's Minister, a fellow trainee and I started a running joke about cows. The details of how it started are a bit fuzzy. It had something to do with setting boundaries.
At the time, I was a professional studio artist, creating works for gallery shows, and was painting a series of cows and rural landscapes. The concept of boundaries in our training was being presented as fences. Within the fence you were free and could roam around at will. Outside the fence, you had problems. Jan and I started a riff about cows frolicking in the pasture. I gave her a drawing of a cow outstanding in its field. She shot off puns like rapid fire. I sent her an e-card featuring a cow lurking in the grass with the tag line 'moochas grassius.' She would send something back about partying 'til the cows came home. We were somewhat of a trial to our trainers, but we did have the concept of boundaries nailed down.
The painting series of pastoral landscapes was a success. All the cows sold and I was on my way to expanding my gallery representation. But as the philosopher/songwriter John Lennon said, “Life is what happens when you are making other plans.”
After years of estrangement, my mother contacted me and needed help. She was starting to lose her memory and wanted to ask for forgiveness before it was too late. That began a journey of a new pastoral type – shepherding my mother through the ravages of Alzheimer's.
Mom has been gone a few years now. I'm moving back into art, but in a new way. A way of healing, prayer and ministry. I'm a pastor of art. The pastoral artist.