The weekend before last was spent with the family from Missouri. Didn’t do anything special except eat, play cards, and drink wine.
The only thing I’ve done so far the creative area is dye blue-violet samples for purse panels.
OK. The second thing I’ve done in the creative arena is another EQ7 quilt design idea.
Any practice with EQ7 is a good thing. Inspiration came from this plate and this cup.
Too narrow is the house of my soul for you to enter into it: let it be enlarged by you.
There is no way I can adequately summarize this article. Printed out, it is seventeen pages long. So to start you off…
All art is symbolic. If we understand a symbol to be the bodying forth of an abstraction or the outward expression of the inward, all art is symbolic. Our culture, however, has great difficulty in understanding this simple premise and therefore has a very limited ability to understand art. Our culture tends either to interpret literature in a purely literal way-as in reading a novel for the plot, or for the “relatable” quality of a character-or to concern itself purely with the ideas of a work-as in classrooms around the country where great books are taught as if they were mere receptacles for ideas the primary concern being what students always call the “hidden meaning.”
Now, of all readers, Catholic readers should not be susceptible to this dualism because the traditional Catholic reading of the Bible should, as Dante points out in his famous “Letter to Can Grande,” teach us how to read. Yes, we are to read the Israelites’ escape from Egypt as a literal, or historical, event, a factual event, but we are also to read that event as a figure for Christ’s redeeming us from sin through salvation, as a figure for the Church Triumphant, and as a figure for each moment in our lives when we choose freedom in God’s will over the slavery of our own will. That is, the Israelites’ escape from Egypt is a symbol-it is a real and historical occurrence whose meaning is not limited by its historicity, whose meaning overflows that historical context, a visible sign of the invisible, if I may adapt a bit of the catechism. When we realize that all art worthy of the name strives for this symbolic quality, we will begin to read differently, to write differently, to see differently, and to think differently.