Jesus Has Risen, but what of Mary Magdalene?

“Mary!”

Mary then knew exactly who stood before him glowing in bright angelic light. The one word of intimacy of one’s name left no doubt this was Mary Magadelene’s Jesus.

“Do not cling to me.”

It is in these words, that puts their physical relationship to rest, a death like his own, but a resurrection of a new relationship put in an almost incomprehensible realm. Oh, how this must be what the “Agony and the Ecstasy” must feel like. To want, to ache and to long for the love of her life, but to never truly “have” him is the essence of Mary Magadelene's cross that she bears. As in Jesus Christ Superstar’s lyrics, “I don’t know how to love him…” is the complexity of Mary’s love and devotion to Jesus, the Man and Jesus, The Christ. So mysterious is she, yet we do know she is strong, brave and stalwart in her devotion and commitment to their relationship, whatever exactly it was. She stayed until his last breath; she was the first to go to his tomb; she was the first to see the resurrected Jesus appear before her. She believed. She followed undauntingly.

I would be hurt by Jesus’ words, “Do not cling to me.” It sounds like a rejection and a lack of reciprocation of feelings, but it had to be. Throughout his relationship as a man on earth with Mary Magdalene, it had to be an inner struggle with him the entire time knowing, knowing the moment would come when they could not be in body together, yet despite that knowledge, he kept her close. He couldn’t deny himself her company and would not deny himself her company while he remained a man. She sat next to him at The Last Supper. I’d say that is a high place of honor, indeed. Being female with our innate nurturing qualities, she may have been a steady source of comfort to him with both knowing unfailing what would come.

I want to know, and I feel terribly guilty and as if I'm a bad Catholic, but I can't help but wonder, Did Jesus and Mary have sex? Was it a sexual relationship? Did he give in to his manly desires? Was Mary Magadalene his true love and soulmate, or was he in control of his earthly desires knowing he was God’s son? I don’t know. No one apparently does. Mary’s tale was written by the memory by men a good 60-65 years after Jesus’ death…no one will know for sure except for Mary and Jesus. I think the single word uttered when Jesus appeared to Mary when she was confused and didn’t recognize him tells us a great deal.

“Mary!” (Mary! Look. it’s me…me, your Jesus…but I have changed to the Holy Spirit and you can have me no more.)

Information learned on the Smithsonian website www.smithsonianmag.com/history.../magdalene.html -
Fascinating stuff!

Desperately Seeking Solace in Spirits

Spirits, where are you? (Ghost Adventurers)

Is it any wonder that my nerves are jangled? Earthquakes, Tsnami’s, Massive Death and Destruction, War in Libya, Air Raids, Bombing…the death of Liz Taylor, the heart attack of a friend, and a student flying home to be with his dying mother.


Geez, it’s surprising I haven’t turned to alcohol or something worse, but this is too much! I watch Ghost Adventurers, Celebrity Ghost Stories, Psychic Kids and Ghost Whisperer like a dry sponge that wants to soak in story after story of the after life. I need to hear, to see, to believe that there is something more than this. There has to be. I’m engrossed in Zac provoking the haunted spirits that linger in Remington’s Gun Factory, wanting to hear the disembodied voices. “Did you hear that?” Foot steps. A laugh. A faint cry. I heard it. I crave the bonified proof that spirits exist, that we don’t vanish into nothingness.

Then there is the little boy’s book, titled, “Heaven is Real.” He has a burst appendix when he is four years old and is cradled in Jesus’ lap and sees his grandfather with large Angel Wings. He says, and I’ve heard this from my reading of psychic medium books, that no one is old. They are 20 or 30 years of age at most. He said heaven is colorful and filled with a lot of people. Sadly, he was asked if he can still see it clearly as many years have gone by and he does acknowledge that his memory of it is fading. If only we can see what he saw, but we will. One day we will. But why is that book a best seller right now?
See paragraph one. The world has gone crazy; the earth must be tilted as it is belching and churning and tossing us humans about like a baby tossing a handful of rocks and letting them fly. Our human brains must be sloshing about as Revolutions are erupting across the most volatile areas of the world, the Middle East, and we Americans must always stick our nose in it to stir high emotions and more hatred. Bombs, protests, insurgents,…Even Israel and Palestine are up to their old anxiety ridden fatal tricks with bombing of innocents on a bus. Is the moon’s gravitational pull on the liquid in our brains extra strong causing people to act in crazy ways?

So, yeah. I want to read that little kid’s book….from the mouth of babes lay the God’s honest truth. I think we are all thirsting to know that we’ll be all right on the other side and need a little more reassurance than going to church on Sunday’s and listening to how Jesus was crucified for us so that we can enjoy eternity. That is an old story, have heard it many times before, so much so that it just doesn’t seem like something I can actually relate to…God forgive me, but I guess I’m as bad as the doubting Thomas…Maybe Jesus needs to come again and give us humans a good talking to, and he needs to fix the earth because it is moving and shaking a bit more than we can handle.

Didn’t mean to get religious, just addressing our vulnerable time in history. This really isn’t unique. World War II must have seemed like the world was going crazy. There have been natural disasters before, so it’s not anything new, but it is new to me. Every era has their war, every era has their hardship, and every era gets through it. We will and have to, but it doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy my Ghost Adventure shows; actually, it might be on right now. So, I’m going to sign off and see if I can catch Zac taunt a spirit or two!! Go Zac! You are the man!

http://www.travelchannel.com/TV_Shows/Ghost_Adventures/Video

Phineas Bloom and The Letter Comes To Life

My husband looked at this painting and immediately asked, "What is in the letter? She doesn't look happy."  He said, "It must be from a guy and it's not good news."  I told him the beauty of this painting is it means whatever the viewer wants it to mean.  Is it good news? Is it bad news? Is it worrisome news?  Is it news that requires a decision?  I love art that makes you wonder and play with your imagination, and of course, I love this period.  She is kind of like a "Lizzie Bennett, or a Jane Austen....or even a Cassandra Austen."  But in my world, she is Phinny, Phineas Bloom and her letter is The Story, one I shall write and see where it takes me.  Again, it's a bit out of perspective, to which I fully acknowledge, and am in agreement that I am in desperate need of lessons.  But you know what?  I love this painting because it is beautiful to me.  Beautiful in color, lighting, subject matter....and I love her night gown, or rather, night rail, why they called it that, I'll have to check.  Anyway, here it is in full "Bloom."  Enjoy! 

Whatever shall I paint next??? Hmmmmmm... Meanwhile reading a wonderful novel by Eloisa James, "When Beauty Tamed The Beast." Incredibly written, and the verbage of the main character is so distinctly biting; I am always amazed that so many personalities can be stored in one head, the mind of an author! Elizabeth Boyle's "Mad About The Duke" was a quick read, too...loved it!

Writing, Painting, Writing, Painting...creative juices are flowing!

My Phineas Bloom's Letter painting is all out of proportion and looks completely cartoony and amateurish...I haven't attacked it in a while.  I am on the verge of trashing it, and calling that one a disaster!  BUT...I feel like it must be worth saving, so I am going to brush and wash and stroke it until it comes to life.  It seems I'm a persistent bugger, and do have a "don't give up" attitutude after all. I almost did that with my other two paintings, Lady Cecilia and Lord Rosemont.  I was scared to death to paint the sketched faces....did everything but.  I had a faceless painting filled with color everywhere but the circular area of the canvas which was to be the face.  It was tortuous.
Well, time to head downstairs and pull out my painting of Phinny in her diaphanous nightrail in the glow of candlelight in her bedroom brooding over a letter....story to come eventually.
I'm also working pretty intensely on one of my Regency Romance novels, which after tweaking and tweaking, I read it from start to finish, where I've left off, that is, no where near finished...just beginning really, and I liked it!  I wanted to see what would happen at the dinner party where the two opposing forces would meet again, male vs. female.  I'll get to that later, too.  It has mystery, intrigue, loyal friendships, emotional inner demons to fight and a true tangible enemy on the periphery that brings all together and leads to an incredible discovery.

Gotta go!
Sorry to leave you hanging...but ...stay tuned...sdh

"With The Birds I Shared A Lonely View..."

"With the birds I share is a lonely view...." was a quote at a wake of someone I had met briefly, but the impact was great.  There must have been some purpose for our paths to cross; I do believe that.  This talented young man was an artist that mixed up mediums and created glowing works of art that begged to leap off the page and come to light.  They were glimpses of life in unique vibrant texturized color in acrylic, water color, pastel and china ink mixed and swished together to make magic on canvas.

My friend urged me to our art gallery to meet him, that I would probably like his work. I was so glad I did.  Canvas after canvas I was awed by the beauty and reality of his talent.  His work was amazing.  I love color as you can probably tell with my art work and this blog.  I love to play with color, but it is tricky to do and to do it well enough to make it work and compliment the picture.  I remember telling him, "Look how you used green on this man's face and it works!" 

The hawk up above was made for my father as a symbol of strength, pride, and as a stoic survivor.  In the theory  of survival of the fittest, the hawk would surely be considered fittest and would reign on top.  With this bit of painting, I played ever so meekly with watercolor and acrylic combined.  I wasn't that brave but I did it.  The background is a wash of watercolor, along with a smattering of the stump.  Next time I might play more with pastel, watercolor and acrylic.   This talented young man gave me the impetus to create, to experiment, to take my work a step further.  I created the hawk for my father, but I think I must have also created it for this artist, too.  I didn't know the lyrics from the Red Hot Chili Peppers would be at his wake (Funny, I always loved this song but never really listened to the words, nor the name of the song "Scar Tissue" - Interesting, because emotional pain may lessen, but it always leaves a scar.  This song is about angst, loneliness, isolation...)...how fitting that I chose a bird on a lonely perch...sometimes the strongest is the loneliest....sdh...

Why Are We Running?...where are we really going?

A documentary called “Race To Nowhere” is being screened at LIU, CW Post this Friday. I viewed the trailer online and found it so on point highlighting and painfully pressing the issue of today’s demands and pressures assaulting our children in our current educational environment.

I remember not too many years ago as a School Counseling student listening in on a presentation by a college representative speaking to anxious parents of juniors just beginning the college search and preparatory process. What struck me was this: Your kid had to be a “Super Student” or else he’s not getting in to that college. The competition is fierce; there are only so many slots for new enrollees.

They not only needed excellent grades, and not only needed to be on the team but they needed to be LEADERS, CAPTAINS, PRESIDENTS….think about this, now…how many students can actually be the captains and presidents among how many students in the school? Not many.  It's a futile effort for most.

You need a rigorous course load. You need to get into honors and take AP courses if you want to get a scholarship…

Mommy and Daddy can’t afford college, so it’s up to you to get that athletic, music, merit scholarship. Up to ME? Oh God…I’m overwhelmed. I can’t handle the pressure.

Melt down.

Parents melt down, argue, and feel depressed that they can’t do more for their kids. They inwardly cringe when their child salivates at a fancy college sweatshirt or lax shorts sporting famous university names such as Duke, Syracuse, etc…We can never afford to send them there.

Kids meltdown feeling guilty and embarrassed that they can’t hack the tough courses and handle all the extracurricular activities. They are exhausted and depressed. What’s their future going to be like? Hopelessness kicks in, a very bad thing.

What to do? Well, I’d love to see the film “Race To Nowhere” and see what it suggests, possibly revamping our whole way of thinking….reverse the “It’s never too early to start thinking about college” mindset. I always shuddered at that concept because it doesn’t let kids be fun, silly and goofy, yet studious kids. It introduced a brand new feeling to them: anxiety, something brought into play way too young. “I don’t know what I want to be! Oh, no! Shouldn’t I know? What's wrong with me?” Kids don’t know who they are yet….do any of us know who we are yet? I’m an ever evolving creature and am a lifelong learner discovering new interests all of the time. How can a 5th grader or younger even think of college and why should they?

Can we stop racing and running around like lunatics and slow down a bit? Can we let our kids enjoy their high school life and take it slow? It goes too darn quickly. Can they play a sport for fun without the pressure of being the Allstar? Can they play an instrument for the sheer joy of it, the magic of creating beautiful sounds without the pressure of a perfect score at NYSSMA or SCMEA? Everything is a competition, a race to be the best of the best.

We all can’t be the best, but we can be who we are, a unique beautiful human being with a lot to give the world, no matter what.

Can't Shop? Create Instead!

I spent my Thanksgiving vacation painting, writing and playing tennis (yes! in the cold wind...it was awesome.)  I attacked with the paintbrush my Delphinus Bloom sketch, which I am sorry to say I didn't photograph as purely a sketch...but it is coming to life slowly.  I do it in steps...always the person, last.  That's the part I want to get perfectly right.  I've been writing a story of regarding my other two paintings, Lady Cecilia and the troubled, scandalized Lord Rosemont.  You know they were meant to be, but how they meet isn't exactly pretty and it isn't isn't sparks and fireworks.  But it will be, oh, you know it will be.

Do you think the creative rush is in replacement of my inability to go Christmas shopping due to severe lack of funds?  Boy, did I feel the pull of pressure from television, ads that were jammed in my newspaper, radio announcers and even relatives on Thanksgiving Day going through my flyers of advertising planning their 4 am attack on Black Friday.  I have no money to spare at this time, with health bills piling up, etc...and I started to feel...guilty.  Jealous.   I was missing out on something.  Ridiculous.  But I did feel it.

I did what I could do.  Paint. Write and had a ball playing tennis with my family.  We all felt so invigorated and refreshed.  Creating something and watching it turn into something that is appealing, alluring, and attractive with colors that make you smile is a reward you can't buy.  Well, you can buy paintings, but to create something yourself is a fantastic feeling...same for writing...putting characters and twisting plots to life transferring from your brain to paper is an amazing feat.  It didn't exist before, the people, the characters, the places, their stories, and then type away. Voila! There it is!  A story.

It was definitely stress relieving...creating in any way, even body movement is a release.  Emotion...means to feel... up and out.....emotions must run through us and out into the universe, otherwise we get blocked and feel awful.

I think I better get painting after I'm done writing here.  I have some "stuff" that needs to get out!!!

Peace.