No Respecter of Persons
A reference to Acts 10:34–35, and a denunciation of racism in any form. The systemic racism has got to go. The police brutality, too.
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Trailing Clouds of Glory II
A reference to Wordsworth’s “Ode on Intimations of Immortality.” The white circle and triangle represent a baby in the womb.
My Soul Delighteth
A reference to 2 Nephi 4:15–16. The light rectangles represent the scriptures.
Abide with Me
A reference to the hymn. The red figure represents a human in distress; the white figure represents the Savior comforting them.
First Vision Triptych III
A newer version of First Vision Triptych, the piece that launched me into all of this minimalist religious art.
I love this quote from Carl Sagan’s Cosmos:
What an astonishing thing a book is. It’s a flat object made from a tree with flexible parts on which are imprinted lots of funny dark squiggles. But one glance at it and you’re inside the mind of another person, maybe somebody dead for thousands of years. Across the millennia, an author is speaking clearly and silently inside your head, directly to you. Writing is perhaps the greatest of human inventions, binding together people who never knew each other, citizens of distant epochs. Books break the shackles of time. A book is proof that humans are capable of working magic.
Yet in My Flesh Shall I See God
A reference to Job 19:26. The red triangle at left represents the mortal body. The white and grey triangles represent the separated spirit and body after death. The red and yellow triangle at right represents the resurrected body in the presence of God. The other two triangles are decorative.
Lately I’ve been reading a history of the Borgias, taking place in the late 1400s. In reading about some of the people who died young back then, I got to thinking about death (which if I’m honest is something I think about often — memento mori and all).
Separation of spirit and body aside, the main sting of death seems to be the separation from loved ones. For me, anyway, that’s what would hurt most. Sure, there are a lot of things I still want to do and a lot of books I still want to read, but I wouldn’t be devastated if I had to give that up. But not being there to help my wife raise our children? Utterly awful. (And the same goes for losing my wife or any of our kids.) I know there would be some measure of divine peace given, but I also know there would also be a deep, unavoidable flood of sorrow.
A mildly comforting thought I had while reading the Borgia book, though, was this: that particular sting only lasts up to roughly a hundred years. Past that point, everyone I knew and cared about in life will have also died. No more separation (at least not based on living vs. dead). Less devastation. Lots of happy reunions on the other side.
A hundred years is a long time, of course, but it’s also finite. And hopefully the Second Coming happens long before then. (That said, I wouldn’t at all be surprised if it’s still more than a hundred years off.)
Family Prayer V
Another entry in the family prayer series.
Ninety and Nine II
A reference to Luke 15:4. A sequel to Ninety and Nine. (The original is in a nonstandard wide format, and I wanted to see if I could convey the same idea in a square.)