9×12″ watercolor on paper
September 15, 2012
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Inspired by the following passage from Phantastes by George MacDonald:
“Trust the Oak,” said she; “trust the Oak, and the Elm, and the great Beech. Take care of the Birch, for though she is honest, she is too young not to be changeable.”
9×12″ watercolor on paper
July 2, 2012
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Inspired by the following passage from The Disciple by George MacDonald:
I do not care for singing psalms;
I tire of good men’s talk;
To me there is no joy in palms,
Or white-robed, solemn walk.
I love to hear the wild winds meet,
The wild old winds at night;
To watch the cold stars flash and beat,
The feathery snow alight….
My God, this heart will never burn,
Must never taste thy joy!
Even Jesus’ face is calm and stern:
I am a hapless boy!
9×12″ watercolor on paper
July 3, 2012
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Inspired by the following passage from Phantastes by George MacDonald:
Alas, how easily things go wrong!
A sigh too much, or a kiss too long,
And there follows a mist and a weeping rain,
And life is never the same again.
11×14″ oil on canvas
July 7, 2012
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Inspired by the following stanzas from A Book of Dreams by George MacDonald:
I lay and dreamed. The Master came
In His old woven dress;
I stood in joy, and yet in shame,
Oppressed with earthliness.
He stretched His arms, and gently sought
To clasp me to His soul;
I shrunk away, because I thought
He did not know the whole.
I did not love Him as I would,
Embraces were not meet;
I sank before Him where He stood,
And held and kissed His feet.
Ten years have passed away since then,
Oft hast Thou come to me;
The question scarce will rise again,
Whether I care for Thee.
To every doubt, in Thee my heart
An answer hopes to find;
In every gladness, Lord, Thou art,
The deeper joy behind.
And yet in other realms of life,
Unknown temptations rise,
Unknown perplexities and strife,
New questions and replies.
And every lesson learnt, anew,
The vain assurance lends
That now I know, and now can do,
And now should see Thy ends.
So I forget I am a child,
And act as if a man;
Who through the dark and tempest wild
Will go, because he can.
And so, O Lord, not yet I dare
To clasp Thee to my breast;
Though well I know that only there
Is hid the secret rest.
And yet I shrink not, as at first:
Be Thou the judge of guilt;
Thou knowest all my best and worst,
Do with me as Thou wilt.
Spread Thou once more Thine arms abroad,
Lay bare Thy bosom’s beat;
Thou shalt embrace me, O my God,
And I will kiss Thy feet.
8×10″ marker on paper
July 7, 2012
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Inspired by the following passage from At the Back of the North Wind by George MacDonald:
For the baby was in the mother’s arms; and the drizzling rain, and the dreary mews, and even her father’s troubled face could not touch her.
What cared baby for the loss of a hundred situations? Yet neither father nor mother thought her hard-hearted because she crowed and laughed in the middle of their troubles.
On the contrary, her crowing and laughing were infectious. Her little heart was so full of merriment that it could not hold it all, and it ran over into theirs.
