Holy Pulse, Spray and acrylic on wood, 2m x 3m, Fremantle
I sometimes find myself struck by the idea of passing hundreds, if not thousands, of people each day and every person being beautiful in their creation. And it seems we can’t process the depth and power of humanity that is pulsing through each and everyone’s veins, that we all surge with Holiness and God’s image. I would do well to sit and wonder on this thought; that we all bear the image of God and we all walk on the same concrete and look up at the same clouds.
The cold has silenced all the insects. The dark seems to make us speak softly, like gentle conspirators. Your mother says the grace and butters your bread. I do wish Boughton could have seen how his boy received his benediction, how he bowed his head. If I told him, if he understood, he would have been jealous to have seen it, jealous to have been the one who bestowed the blessing. It is almost as if I felt his hand on my hand. Well, I can imagine him beyond the world, looking back at me with an amazement of realisation – “This is why we have lived this life!’ There are a thousand thousand reasons to live this life, every one of them sufficient. Gilead, Marilynne Robinson