ethiopia landscapes

The road in front of the church.

Trees provide shelter from a hard day's work.







A typical village in the Rift Valley.

The majority of the land is government owned.






Tree branches stretch out like a man's arms when waking from sleep.

ethiopia heartaches

Shoes are considered a luxury in this area of the country.

Clothes are worn long beyond the point of shredding.

Diseases often abound when feet go unprotected.







The hesitancy of these hands say much more than facial expressions.






A pair of sandals is a good fortune to those who can afford them.

absense

Absence surrounds me

hangs over my head

creeps up my stairs

and slides in my bed

where it plagues my mind

and torments my soul

leaving me empty

with nothing to hold

so I struggle and fight

to make sense of it all

but I am afraid

that I am much too small

ethiopia faces

A girl on the side of the road just outside of her village.







A balancing act.








A kind man.








Boy from a village in the Rift Valley.







A shepherd boy holding his whip in his right hand.

ethiopia places

View from the hotel in Addis Ababa.







The market along the road in Addis Ababa.







Detail of window at church in Asella.

Dirty laundry at the orphanage in Addis Ababa.

Clean laundry at the orphanage in Addis Ababa.

sadness in her eyes

She comes across as joyful
but anyone can see
there’s sadness in her eyes
clever words flow from her lips
and flattery is her guise
like a freight ship she emerges

in the stillness of the night
stealing your next breath
then vanishing out of sight

thesis

These are a few preliminary sketches from my thesis project in architectural school.

there must be more

He leaves in a metal car
drives on a concrete path
only to park in a concrete garage
sets his foot in a marble lobby
and rides the metal hatch to the sky
where he sits by a glass window
looks out beyond and sighs
"there must be more
than what I've been living for"

She stands in a green field
orange sun rises in the east
walks along a gravel path
with a wicker basket on her head
takes a seat on a dirt floor
shells peas between worn fingernails
looks into the sky and sighs
"there must be more
than what I've been living for"

You spoke with a gentle voice
substance took form and life was born
water broke and flesh appeared
promised seed in word and deed
giver of life now in plain sight
bread is body and blood is wine
"Feast with me like never before
I am more
than what you’re living for"

concessioneering

My freshman year of high school, I worked in the concession stand during lunch break. It kept my often task-oriented nature thriving and also kept me away from the horrifying things that were being served up on plates in the cafeteria. At the close of the school year I received a notice that I should attend the year-end awards ceremony for students because I had been selected to receive an award. My grades were decent, but not excellent. I played varsity tennis and soccer, but was not a stand out. I loved art class, but had not won any awards in the contests that year. I really had no idea why I was asked to attend the awards ceremony, but figured that the only way to find out was to show up and see what this was all about.

Well, after sitting through an entire awards ceremony where kids were honored for things such as maintaining a 4.0 GPA for their entire school career (grades K-12), never missing a single day of class (grades K-12), setting all time athletic records for the school and state, winning scholarships for notable colleges, etc., etc. the faculty member who headed up the concession stand stepped up to the platform. The microphone buzzed with feedback for a few seconds as if to say this was a hiccup in the ceremony or an add-on-award moment that would prolong your after dinner plans. She timidly announced my name to come up to the stage and receive an award for . . . "excellence in concessioneering!" I shuddered in disbelief and the room was suddenly cold without any noise except for a few muffled chuckles as I walked toward the stage to receive an award that even the name had been fabricated in a way that screamed "not really impressive". My attire of khaki pants and a white oxford shirt with a flowered neck tie suddenly made me feel like a McDonald's employee getting his name put on the employee of month plaque - not really a life time achievement award, but thanks.

Now I'm not knocking people who work in the fast food industry or throwing any cheap shots at anyone who does not fit into the context of white-collar-cooperate-America. It is respectable to make an honest living, lead a quiet life, and work with your hands to win the respect of outsiders. Maybe that is where it should end though? Do we really need recognition for simply serving and doing a job that brings some personal satisfaction anyway? It just seems a little overkill to recognize someone with a trumpet processional when that person is just doing the work required of them in the first place. Maybe that person is content to enjoy their work without all of the unnecessary fanfare? Maybe just a “thanks, job well done” would suffice?

the design

There’s a whole lot of hollow inside this guitar
But it’s there for a reason it’s there by design
Without the hollow the sound could not resonate
Without the hollow the notes could not shine

There’s a whole lot of empty inside this cathedral
And its walls are as cold as stone
Yet your voice will carry through all the chambers
Filling every void space with a beautiful tone

There’s a whole lot of lonely inside this heart
But it’s there for a reason it’s there by design
Without the lonely God’s voice would not resonate
And His love you would not find

insatiable thirst

Insatiable thirst
I live with this curse
my life’s musical rendition
is never mint condition
it’s like an LP that’s scratched
and warped from the heat
so that the message is lost
and never mind the beat
the fact that you would love me
is an amazing feat

Insatiable thirst
each day it grows worse
and there’s no definition
for this mental condition
just a longing for home
never satisfied with things I own
always needing
always bleeding
you put your arms around me
and whisper that you love me

the crippled begger

Here I sit beside cold iron bars
People pass by avoiding eye contact
My hand extended, yet receiving nothing
I can describe them all as well as they can me
But no one takes the time to let the association grow deeper

Often children will dare to come close,
But their parents beckon them away
Once a little girl reached out to touch my hand
I stared into her face and my eyes welled up with tears
Her father quickly brushed her up under his arm
But I will never forget that moment
It was more than anyone had ever given me
Her eyes of innocence were filled with compassion

It was just the way that I had pictured Joseph’s son
I never knew him, but I had heard the stories . . .
How he healed the lepers, gave sight to the blind, commanded evil spirits
Healed the sick with a single word, and walked upon the water
I heard that he would often tell those who were crippled to get up and walk
If only he were around today . . . if only I could use my legs . . .
I would not merely walk about with the same empty expressions I see on so many other faces

One day two men were about to enter the temple
I asked them for some money and they looked directly at me
I could not look back at them for fear, but the one man began to speak to me
I was waiting to be ridiculed for my request
I had grown used to this kind of humiliation
It was a small price to pay for the possibility of income
I would tolerate the slanders as long as I had received a few tokens by the end of the day

But the words that fell from his lips were not malicious
He commanded me in the name of Jesus to walk
He spoke with the same authority as the Nazarene and I believed what he said
Then taking me by the right hand, he lifted me to my feet
I felt a warmness and stiffness spread through my legs and I began to jump about
The same warmness shot into my heart and I was filled with awe
Tears streamed down my face as I began to praise God

All of my life I wanted to be healed . . .
To experience the touch of love’s hand and be free
Now I knew what it meant
For the first time in my life I could call this gate beautiful
I would now enter in with confidence

new york

This year I spent Labor Day in New York. Here are a few photos from the trip


Yoko Ono's tribute to her slain husband, John Lennon.

The gothic revival of St. Patrick's Cathedral in upper midtown.

View of lower Manhattan from the top of Rockefeller Center.

Frank Lloyd Wright's landmark Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum.

View of Manhattan from Flushing Meadows in Queens.

joseph

So there you stand in the presence of your family
holding back the floodgates of your heart
but now it seems impossible
to withhold so many years
of solace, separation and longing
for those you were not near

And you weep for your beloved Benjamin
and you weep among those you call friends
and you weep among those you call family
and it does not bother you

Is there any better plot?
Is there any better plan?
Is there any who could imagine . . .
that you would one day inherit this land?

And you weep for all of your brothers
and you weep among those you call friends
and you weep among those you call family
and it does not bother you

So go and prepare your chariot
go and meet your father Israel
go and fall down before him . . .
giving glory to the great I Am

And you weep in the presence of your father
and you weep among those you call friends
and you weep among those you call family
and it does not bother you

peter

He was always the first to try
and often the very last to cry
yet he was the first to see
who it was that you were meant to be

And you knew that he’d forsake you
with bitter tears and three bold lies
yet your love for him was reckless
always there to restore the kindness
calling him a name that he was not
loosening every dead-bolt lock
to you he was the rock

living room

This is a painting of a duplex living room where I once lived. Instead of painting the objects and the surroundings in their natural colors (realism), I choose to use warm colors for the room and cool colors for the objects in the room to add more contrast.

study

The following paintings are from a series of studies where I experimented with foreground and background ambiguity. The sixteen small squares framed in the larger square either blend into the background or seem to jump off of the canvas.


Study 011 creates the illusion that the small orange squares differ in color.









Study 014 makes the darker color squares appear to have greater depth.









In study 015 the right side of the painting has greater contrast.

color in painting

I painted these pictures a few years ago, wanting to explore how the same subject can be interpreted differently through color.

let me build you a house

Let me build you a house
the foundation is a solid core
and sand will be the floor
that transitions to grassy meadows
and green forests that are deep
ending in an ocean blue
it will surround you

I'll paint the walls with trees
and mountains of rock so big
that you only think of me
and the roof will be an endless sky
to remind you of eternity
the sun will rise each morning
to keep you warm throughout each day
while the stars will twinkle in the evening
just to show you're not alone
for you are living in my home

bootleg cake

A few friends had been getting together on a weekly basis to watch the Band of Brothers mini series directed by Steven Spielberg and Tom Hanks depicting the story of Easy Company, the 101st Airborne Division in the army during World War II. To commemorate episode seven: The Battle of Bastogne, I baked a cake depicting one of the bloodiest scenes in the entire series. The cake was vanilla flavored with raspberry sauce for the filling. Ummm . . . tasty!

triquetra

While at seminary I designed a model based on the two-dimensional illustration of the trinity known as the triquetra. This sculptural form of the triquetra is a more accurate model of the trinity because it is constructed in three dimensions. Each of the three equal arcs of the sculpture taper off to stand on a circular base at precisely three points in homage to the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. The sculpture, as proposed, would become a centerpiece of the Chafer Chapel Plaza just as the Godhead is the centerpiece of all Christian thought.

faces

buildings

austin

What I saw when I was in Austin.