Sonata in Stone, underfoot: behold a few visual echoes from nature, seemingly composed in the key of longing. These rhythmic patterns captured me, years ago, while walking California’s Jamala Beach.
They could be dancing musical staves—minus the clefs and rests and notes.
Moiré-like in pattern, they could be petrified silk.
Or stony scrolls for the heads of cellos.
Why a sonata in stone?
The word sonata (from Latin and Italian: sonare, “to sound”) denotes an instrumental composition comprising:
- three or four movements
- contrasting forms and keys
- optional introduction and/or coda, or tailpiece
A sonata da chiesa (Italian: chiesa, “church”) was traditionally composed for worship settings. Music played for the glory of God. Without words.
In these troubled days so many conflicting words commandeer the air waves—despairing, mocking, promising, militant.
What about a time out? Let’s identify whimsy. Virtue. Everyday largesse.
I invite you to absorb the implied music in the photos below.
What do you perceive between the lines? How might God expand your perception? What prayer might you offer that we could pray alongside you?
I see the floating hems of an oil slick . . . May we cherish and guard our local bodies of water, Amen.
I see organic brain scans for dementia . . . May grace companion our loved ones who suffer, Amen.
I see a Topo contour map . . . May we aid a loved one or stranger braving the ups and downs of this day, Amen.
Despite all that divides us, much remains that we can agree on.
Will you gift us with an observation and petition or blessing in the comments below?
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Hello, Dear Laurie… I have found myself taking more “times out” lately as a means of survival. I was being swallowed up whole by trying to keep up with what I call the “hyper-infirm-ation age of 2020”. In the beginning, the year’s title, “20/20” had such an optimistic ring to it, as if we would somehow accumulate perfect vision within it’s 365 days. But then, one thing after another demanded intense study to try to ferret out the truth. I went deep-diving down the rabbit trails, reading, studying, journaling, discussing, soul-searching, praying… But each day, new reasons to search for the truth in each new unfolding situation were presented. So many friends with so many varying opinions! I went cross-eyed! Finally, I took my journal and art supplies down to the creek, and listened to the sounds of the water and sky, and smelled the varying scents delivered by the wind, and delighted at the succession of wild creatures that made their appearances. I started to write a story about the gnarled tree that fell head first in the creek a few seasons before, but I kept getting distracted by dragonflies and birds, pretty pebbles and finally by a minnow fluttering in the current. I bent over the water with my cellphone, to take a video of that tiny fish, but then the light and shadows of the ripples became some kind of strobe-lighted giraffe-print performance art. What a startling discovery! Your striated rocks remind me of that profound sensation of bliss I encountered as I adored our Creator and His handiwork. Just a good reminder not to get so deeply into our brains that we forget our senses. I am so profoundly grateful for this gift of life as a human. Your Peace, Lord, permeate Your people, I pray.
Dear Pacia, it is this day’s finest delight to read your words.
Thank you for catching me up on your year, so far. What a wise choice you made amid the drain on your heart and energies to escape! You make it so easy for me to picture the lively “distractions,” creek-side. The “strobe-lit giraffe-print performance art” absolutely delights me on this grey-miasma day when smoke from the wildfires makes even stepping outside feel hazardous. You remind me of the beauties awaiting. And the One who daily gifts them to us. Thank you so much!
Amen and amen to your beautiful prayer.
I heard a whisper in my spirit the other day while I was walking through Safeway, staring at all the people in masks, to take my eyes off those things that would divide us and build up barriers, and focus instead on the sound of a person’s voice, the smile in their eyes and our shared humanity in a mundane conversation about these challenging times. It seems a rebellious act to choose connection over division these days. But I know God is invested in that kind of math.
Jody, your experience is such good medicine for me, a new mercy this morning . . . and a gracious corrective. Sometimes I feel irked by those who go mask-less, and then I remember I have no idea of their story or reasons or health issues.
I love your practice. I’m going to zero in on the smile in the eyes of others sharing challenging circumstances. Connection, YES! This is a math I want to master!
Beautiful art from a master artist.
Done over time with erosion as his paint brush.
Oh, I dearly value that thought of erosion being a force for beauty as well as loss. What we normally bemoan becoming a tool in the Master’s hand. Thank you!
Mike, sorry to be slow in responding. I just found notification of your comment in my spam folder. Another opportunity to learn.
Thank you for your eloquently worded observation. I’m especially captured by” . . . erosion as his paintbrush.” Beautiful.
In the first photo, I see two worlds (maybe heaven & earth; maybe bodies of humanity; maybe? ) carried on a powerful wave and beginning to merge into one. They’re not yet one though. Each bears scars & cracks of resistance both visible and hidden. Each bears evidence of varied degrees of connection along the years and years of the journey. Each bears evidence of embattled fracture within their own worlds even. And yet, a smile of hope was chiseled into each one when they felt a moment of connection. Separation remains, but the chiseled hope remains for remembrance.
“Lord you are the ultimate Connector. You are the ONLY one who can bring connection through Your Power, Your Grace, Your Mercy, Your Justice. Lord, we look forward to the day when worlds won’t feel the pain of separation, the pain of difference, the scars given by injustice and resistance. Will You please carry those of us who live in Your world, but still on earth, on the waves that give You the most glory each day. Make us a collective force for grace-filled connection. Chisel into us a visible mark of Living Hope. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.”
Carol, please forgive my belated response. Dreamer and I took a trip to the Oregon coast for our 47th anniversary. I am so blessed by the close reading you’ve given the photo, and I find your observations so hopeful, especially meaningful today as I’ve been listening to a black writer (on tape) eloquently urging daily acts of anti-racism.
These lines from you prayer evoke in me a chorus of Amens: “Make us a collective force for grace-filled connection. Chisel into us a visible mark of Living Hope.”
Thank you so much for this humbly astute response. I feel strengthened and inspired, as will other readers. Blessings on you, Carol!
Praises to our Glorious Lord for giving you and Dreamer your 47th Anniversary. I can only imagine the joy of you felt after enduring all of the trials this past year.
Indeed, such largesse continues to bowl us over. Thanks for rejoicing with us, dear Carol!
So beautifully creative, quietly instructive and prayerfully suggestive as ever, Laurie. A huge thank you!
Dear Robert and Ros, thank you so much for your presence here and these heartening words. I continue to try to daily live into your prayer, “Lord, turn sight into insight.” I cannot thank you enough for impressing that possibility on me years ago. Blessings on you both!
In the next-to-last photo I see a horse of all things, swimming strong against the current of swirling water around him. Lord, may those of us who know you remain strong and faith-filled in this time of pandemic and anarchy in our cities. May we be your voices of truth and calm against the currents of fear, anger, lies and bitterness swirling around us.
Nancy, thank you for lifting that image from the pattern. Now I can see it, too. And the image and prayer resonate deeply.
Your images and insights always resonate with me, Laurie; I’m honored that this image and prayer resonated with you.
Then we are both twice-blessed. Thank you, friend!
I love your image, Nancy!
Thank you, Carol! We’re not really in control of what our imaginations pick up on, are we! At least sometimes these moments are Spirit-inspired, I’m sure.
The Word says that mercies are new every morning. As steadfast as patterns embedded in rock, the pattern of mercy is like wind kissing the cheek each and every moment. May I be that generous. The indelible pattern of love.
I can never seem to hear that promise enough. I need a Post-it over my keyboard! Such a welcome reminder. Thank you. And that ephemeral as those mercies may feel in a given moment, they remain within us, indelible.
I see paths disrupted, bent and broken by the forces of nature. May God make clear our paths through these turmultuous times.
Wow, yes to both, and to the possibility of disruption being transformed. Clear paths. Thank you so much for sharing this.