In such a place

I am not in love with God the way I want to be. I am on the brink of falling deeply in love with him, I can feel it, but I know I am not there.

It is so hard breaking the mindset that I have grown up with, about God and christianity. The mindset of rules: right-standing with God through a lack of sin.

I am so ready for this intense realization of Jesus Christ in my personal life, the realization of how he views me and what he did and does for me every single day. I feel like I've got this veil over my face, a screen that gives me a blurred vision of him and his plan/love for me and I cannot seem to lift it and view him for all that he is. I don't want to know what other people think of him, I don't want to fall in love with him because of what he has done in other people's lives, I want to experience this extreme revelation of who and what he is personally for myself.

I know what you've done for others, I just need some help seeing what you do for me. I want to love you the way I was made to.


I was reading the story of Blind Bartimeaus


Mark 10

46Then they came to Jericho. As Jesus and his disciples, together with a large crowd, were leaving the city, a blind man, Bartimaeus (that is, the Son of Timaeus), was sitting by the roadside begging. 47When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout, "Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!"
48Many rebuked him and told him to be quiet, but he shouted all the more, "Son of David, have mercy on me!"

49Jesus stopped and said, "Call him." So they called to the blind man, "Cheer up! On your feet! He's calling you." 50Throwing his cloak aside, he jumped to his feet and came to Jesus.

51"What do you want me to do for you?" Jesus asked him.
The blind man said, "Rabbi, I want to see."

52"Go," said Jesus, "your faith has healed you." Immediately he received his sight and followed Jesus along the road.



This story stuck with me, I had to read it multiple times. I felt the Holy Spirit speak to me about it.

I am in a state of Bartimeaus:


I am a blind man, I haven't seen what the Lord has and can do for me with my own eyes, I have only heard of what he has done for others. I don't feel it personally, like I want. When I hear of Jesus, and what he can do in my life, I start asking to see it, desiring an intimate life and experience with him. Once I call on him, my mind, and other areas of my life rebuke me, telling me to be silent, that Christ wont answer my plea. I think where I am having trouble is "crying out even more loudly" over the rebukes of my mind and this world.

I want more of him. I don't want to preach something that I feel so unsatisfied in my own life. I am not ready to be used as his tool yet. But I want to be ready.

I want to love you so that I can show people who you really are.

For Sale

I'm not sold on this drawing, but I think I am going to continue to pursue this type of line work.

New Art

Portrait

Typography Project (hand-made-type gig poster)

Two pieces for upcoming art show

This Revolution is For Display Purposes Only

I try to keep this blog quote-free, but I discovered that my words fail me, and sometimes, others translate my thoughts to the perfect choice of words:


"On a Tuesday night in the summer I tried to paint a train bridge that spans Portobello Road in West London with posters showing the revolutionary icon Che Guevara gradually dribbling off the page. Every Saturday the market underneath sells Che Guevara t-shirts, handbags, baby bibs and button badges. I think I was trying to make a statement about the endless recycling of an icon. People always seem to think if they dress like a revolutionary they don't actually have to behave like one.

I got up on the bridge about 4 AM. It was quiet and peaceful until two cars approached very slowly and parked on the street. I stopped pasting and watched from the side of the bridge through the bushes. After a few minutes there was no movement and I figured it was cool to carry on.

I reached the fifth poster when there was a huge bang and the sound of splitting wood. One of the cars had reversed back up the street and was on the pavement, wedged in the doorway of the mobile phone shop. Six small figures in hoods with scarves on their faces ran into the store throwing everything they could into black plastic bags. In less than a minute they were all back in their cars which screamed down Portobello Road beneath me. I stood there with my mouth hanging open, a bucket in one hand and a sawn-off sweeping brush in the other, the only young male in sportswear now within a mile of the store. I got the feeling things would look bad for me if I hung around so I dropped the bucket, climbed the fence and jumped to the street.

The area was full of cameras so I lowered my head, pulled my hood up and ran all the way to the canal. I imagined kids were probably in Kilburn by then, lighting up a spliff and saying to each other 'Why would someone just paint pictures of a revolutionary when you can actually behave like one instead?'"


-Banksy



God Help Us.