Last night while our pastor read Psalm 63, we fingerpainted as a group, both alone and together:
We had the three primary colors, which is really all you need. Some of us got involved with our whole hands:
Some of us used our fingertip as a paintbrush:
When my spouse needed to moisten the paint, he spit into his hand. I was reminded of Jesus curing the blind man by mixing dirt and spit and putting it on the man's eyes. Ah, the physicality of miracles and art!
I was struck by this part of the Psalm:
"I thirst for you,
my whole being longs for you,
in a dry and parched land
where there is no water."
At first I worked in reds and yellows, the pigments of parchedness. Later, I added some waves:
I was intrigued by the work of others. It's always interesting to see what others see. My spouse focused on being held in God's right hand, which in his picture is blue:
Even babies got into the fun last night:
As always, it's interesting not only to discover what others heard, but also how we approached the art supplies. Last night, I heard about the difficulty of creating the right shade of green:
Afterwards, we shared beef and barley soup, and then we headed out into the evening, fortified in all sorts of ways. I have found this Lenten practice to be so nourishing, so much return for an hour's investment.
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