flowers of the field

late in the summer
a ripened sunflower of the field,
just past it's period of awkward wild growth,
dropped a seed into the ground

it watched in amazement and pride
as a single, beautiful tendril,
a tangle of green life,
began to shoot out of the soil

the young sprout, unaware
and unspoiled in it's growth,
came not up against disease or drought
but healthily thrived
in the shadow of it's wilting womb

delicate and innocent, it seemed
the season changed,
and was unkind to the late bloomers

ripened sunflower, it sees
a struggle to survive and to flourish
with its offspring's roots gasping for rain

the blossom does not understand,
cannot recognize its own former state,
wildly producing buds and new shoots
in a desperate attempt to reach the light

it forgets the cut of the wind
and the frost creeping up
in the dark night of the soul

ripened sunflower and tangle of green

the light will take them both one day
round the globe cross ancient seas
équateur champs sans gel
eternal summer of the soul

after losing ego and id

i am the tragic artist, the noble saint.

i feel a bit of both in me.

nobody talks about the lukewarm,

the in between dreamers,

the ones who chose neither yes nor no.

did they discover more about the divine

than those who seemingly tore themselves away?

or did they lie awaiting the end?

were they projected from the cosmic mouth?

did the creator spit them out for want of ice or steam?

am i more than just a weed awaiting the harvest,

the goat lost among the flock,

or am i on a journey to limitless wisdom?

timelessly praying for a heavenly treasure,

i await the inevitable; growing beneath the son.

letting the light bend me across the dome of the sky

with the wobbly rotation of the planet.

like the corn we are harvested

every hundred years,

before the frosty death of eternal winter.

we experience the plucking away,

picked by divine fingers from our earthly flower bed,

our death bed, our market fresh sale bin.

besides an ant farm

we are an organic extension,

a cosmic arm of eternal life.

i am a spinning strip of the milky way.

and you are seeing me from the dark of saltless earth.

sugar cereal guilt

time balanced on the steeple
of my young and restless temple
this season's but a brief and lonely phase
my days still waxing with the pale ale moon

picking up old habits in my new found habitat
greasy food and good times every night
wash my baby face, in the sink when i get home
can't wash clean my conscious, not tonight

get off work and go home to a silent sleepy house
lazy neighborhood arise; the cars are pulling out
want to eat some cereal but it's my evening meal
had some late last night, 3 bowls; that breakfast wasn't real

called you way too early; i can hear a hint of hunger
something younger that i lost awhile ago
years of learning what my false start freedom would be like
drained much of my life, my curious light

three alarm clocks still can't drag my blessed body out
of the the best dreams that i've had in years
waking fears on wood floors, 6 feet down, and vertical
sleep, it comes in waves; i'm nearly ready

1:30, finally, summons midnight quiet
roaring water dreams to summer storms
please, sweet sunrise...i could get up now,
but i think i'll lay here just an hour more
3:30 a.m. turns to 4-O-clock, soft
and i'm up to muddy coffee and a walk

the birds start talking tall, as if to call me out

taking walks by myself, cause round 'bout 4 a.m.
there's nobody to talk to but myself, and then
the sun starts coming up, on a blue day bobbin' up
like some sign god caught a fish in heaven's pond
at least i know he'll reel it in each morning till i'm gone
at least i got to see this dayglow dawn

struggle and fellowship

all that i can do is let it go
tumbling off into the night
of futures still unknown
leaving burning trails behind me
branded hands with love
left all treasures here behind
to find it up above

no, hold on, accept it

i could help you with those chains
they wear your writsts raw
why let these weather patterns control your mood
tossed by the wind, i saw you, letting go
letting a hundred small portion of your energy
go to waste on a worry, when
you could be completely free
the keys have been given to you

it's almost painful, to love
because it's real and it's scary
letting go of your ego and self appraisal
taking a leap, floating free
in a sea of uncertainty
only to fall face first into it,
a sunny afternoon, a cool bed, food provided
a mysterious, gritty, joyful existense
love free of bribes and battlefields and ownership

i want to tell you about it
i want to bring you a giant mirror
i want to bring one for myself
and i want us to look, and discuss
the things we can learn from each other
i'm not done discovering, i have much to learn
but for now i will lift you up
just before i drift off to sleep
with birds singing the sun up
i will dream of those days
a future filled with struggle
struggle and fellowship

pass me by - song demo

new song idea...just a demo.

let me know what you think. criticism welcome!

Click to hear music file

sorry if you can't understand the words.

a strange spring induced dream

standing in the backyard of

Tom and Linda Coffey

spring, 1996:

i am consoling my uncle.

he is distraught over the loss of his wife.

my father stands next to me with wise words

my 21 year-old arm, wrapped around his shoulders.

my uncle cups his face in his rough, ruddy hands.


i begin picking the buttery golden blooms

of dandelions growing wild in the grass.

i don't hold them up to my chin

like i did when i was 8

to see if i was the sort of boy who liked butter.

instead, i eat them by the handful

recalling bradbury's dandelion wine

and how i longed to know what it tasted like.

at least in this place they are delicious.


i have wandered to the opposite corner of my yard.

my father and uncle have followed me

wrapped up in their own, grown-up conversations.


i notice my mother and her sister.

they are standing at the back door.

they seem excited about something.

they want me to come in the house;

congratulate my brother on his bride to be.

i am unconvinced and continue picking flowers.

my mother says something like, "he needs you"

and then, sadly, "you're his only brother."

i reply quietly, "not for long."

suddenly i'm alone with a lonely uncle.

i ask him if he's tried eating dandelions.

he croons, "i always thought it was just a weed."

i feel sorry for his loss and offer him one.

he receives it and smiles,

glad to be in my company.

Sushi Night

Renaldo, with Bloom church, runs an event night at the Hapa Sushi every Sunday. Hapa Sushi is located at 2780 E 2nd Ave Denver, CO. Renaldo asked that I would post this on the bloom wall, to see if anyone wanted the opportunity to have their art auctioned off at Hapa Sushi on Sunday the 15th of March. All the funds that are gained from the art will go to the orphanage in Kenia that Bloom church is getting involved with. If you are interested, or have any questions, please call Renaldo @ 303-489-5457

family portrait

Maybe you remember the trip to Juarez I've mentioned before. I'm going down south with a group of artists to teach kids at the local orphanage to create art. We'll bring the artwork back home in order to sell it all at an art auction we're hosting later in May. All the money made from the auction will be sent back down to the orphanage which is always in great need of financial support.  After much touch-and-go, the trip is back on, despite the current ticklish environment of our destination. There's a meeting tonight with the team. Mainly to answer any questions and finalize the travel details. We'll pull out of Denver in two weeks and hit the road 'round midnight. It'll be a quick trip, we will return home Tuesday, 24th, close to 7 pm. 

The project I've come up with, will be to guide the kids in drawing self portraits. I'm going to have them use oil pastels on black paper. I've been messing around this week with the pastels to get an idea for how I want to teach the kids. I hadn't much experience in this medium and I've quickly grown to like it. It's an elegant nod to my crayola days. 

In comparison to my own work, this little project will produce something very different.

Here are a four drawings I've done over the last two days. These drawings are a little more nuanced perhaps than I expect the kid's work to be, but this is what I'm shooting for. I thought I'd grow my technique by doing portraits of Sharon, myself, and our two roommates. Cheers.

Dave

Harper Paints! Kind of ...

Well we have worked up to eating paint, but he will get there!

I Am Art

A being, a human being is an outcome of creation.  Just like the rest of the world we are atoms that were put together in such a way to make function as we were designed to.  Beautiful, loving, kind, strong, firm, creative, and artistic hands crafted every being into existence.  Hands that took time, love, extensive thought, and made every piece of His work completely different from one another in ways that our minds cannot even comprehend or understand.  It is His joy and passion in life to create this place that runs completely on how He has made and designed it to work all together in beauty.  The Love Of Life, made us in His own image, so that we can connect with Him on a level that no other thing on this created place can.  Human beings are the created art from God himself, and we display and scream out who God is, his desires, emotions, and his passions.  All that we beings know is how to mimic the one that we relate to and are created from, whether it is conscious or sub conscious.  This is the reason that many beings turn to the beauty of creating their own art and creations; the way that some take a plain piece of canvas, wood, or paper, and we pour our own passions, love, and life on to them.  We take what was given and put into us, and we make our own creations, simply mimicking the one that created us in His own image.  

This puts so much joy in my heart, it really does, but I just cannot help to see the other picture.  I just cannot help to think about God and how he does not just look at his art, but experiencing his art, and lives with it. Then thinking about how beings take the paintbrush and change the perfect vision God has in mind for us.  His art is perfect, He has perfect plans for it much greater than any being can create for oneself, but we take control of ourselves, taking God's art out of His hands.  Why does God allow this, because God’s love for us is so great He gives us a choice in whether it is God, or ourselves that does the painting?  Just think about this:  What if while Vincent Van Gogh on his piece "Starry Night" had just finished the last touches.  Then he called it perfect, but “Starry Night” took the paintbrush and either just not caring, or thinking that it could be better, started painting over it making the beautiful master piece a jumbled mess. This is the same way mankind takes God’s art, and tries to change the perfect vision that He has.  We take God’s brush, and make a mess with what He has given us.  Then with love and patience, He watches until we realize the mess we are making, and with the help of the Spirit we give God the brush back, and He starts painting our mess back into a masterpiece He had planed for us to be. Every line, every shadow, and even every stoke of love is restored, and God looks at us again and says, “There…now, you are perfect.”  

Here's a very limited clip of some of us who enjoyed a great night of art at Bloom, Sunday, February, 22nd...  

...and a few photos.

Thanks to everyone who shared their work and to everyone who came and shared their company.

Dave

Show tonight!

Lisa Gungor and Stephanie Doorman are both playing tonight at the Skylark Lounge in Denver at 9 pm.

new look

Hey, great new website for bloom. Whoever was behind that, kudos.  The new logo for bloom is perfect. Nicely done, Lisa. Click on the link at the top of the link list on the right side of this page to check it all out.

Happy birthday Jackson

Today is Jackson Pollock's birthday. (January 28, 1912 - August 11, 1956)

"When I am in my painting, I'm not aware of what I'm doing. It is only after a sort of 'get acquainted' period that I see what I have been about. I have no fear of making changes, destroying the image, etc., because the painting has a life of it's own. I try to let it come through. It is only when I lose contact with the painting that the result is a mess. Otherwise there is pure harmony, an easy give and take, and the painting comes out well." 

Cool John Lennon Interview

Warmer Days

Hawaii-'Tis Heaven Indeed!

Baby Karoline's Sweater

To read the whole story, check out my blog. : )

Sharon's Running Haikus

my feet glide over

a snowy Sunday.  Worship

escapes on the streets

my other lover?

I choose the element of

heat, the winter sun.

Khalid's play

Hey, those of you that know Khalid from Bloom, he is in a play this Friday. If any of you are interested in going, here is the information:

The Rising Curtain Theatre Academy presents....
a special "Double Feature" evening of Theatre

Scenes from Disney's High School Musical and
High School Musical

Denver Center for International Studies
574 W 6th Avenue (6th & Elati)

January 29th at 7 pm
January 30 at 7 pm
January 31 at 2 pm and 7 pm

Tickets:
Adults $10.00 in advance or $12.00 at the door

Students (with valid i.d.) & Seniors
$7.00 in advance or $9.00 at the door

Students ages 3-12
$5.00 in advance or $7.00 at the door

Works by Grace

Art Show

Bloom is going to be having it's first art show at Bloom on Sunday, Feb 22 at 6 pm. We want all of you to bring some of your art!! It will be a lot of fun. Keep your eye on bloomworship.com for more info.

waiting - Laurie Halvorson

red C - Laurie Halvorson

A change of season isn’t dependent upon the natural seasonal clock, it occurs when truth comes, causing a paradigm shift within. Internal change brings external change as we create around us, what is inside us.  While initially exciting, these shifts can give way to a painful awareness, of how deeply patterns have been carved into our lives.  The need to be rescued from a rut, fuels a longing for the distant shore of freedom and relief.

 

This beachhead is familiar real estate for me.  There are some subtle changes, but it’s still recognizable.  I’ve been here before and undoubtedly will be here again in the course of my years.  It’s bizarre really, how quickly I’ve forgotten past gains.  Today’s circumstances eclipse my memory, distorting reality so it seems that once again, I’m alone.  Cultivated independence and a little straight-out-of- the-can redhead combine, forming an epoxy hardened resolve.  Disregarding my previous record, I try every conceivable option to make things line up with my perception of what is good and right for me.

 

I am still on the same beach.  The water temperature is iced tea.

 

Exhausted, toes in the sand, I ponder the options of death by drowning, or certain impalement on the spear of hopelessness.  Either it’s ‘a good day to die’, or conditions are ripe for the miraculous.  The question has become palpable:  “Will the Sea part for me?”  I know the story.  I believe it has, and will part for others, but will it part for me?

 

Approaching the water, it occurs to me: “At least, I don’t have to wear a bathing suit!”  This ridiculous notion sweeps over my emotions, and I laugh aloud.  Simultaneously, there is a surge of confidence, as I sense the reality of God’s mercy, bursting across time, and into my current circumstances, touching the most intimate details of my middle aged, swimsuit phobic life.  God gets me. God has me.  Trusting again, I have peace.  I expect to see the impossible way open.  I don’t know how or when, but everything will yield to the hand of the One who brought me to this place.   

 

The Red C, is my expression of joyful hope in Jesus Christ.  He continually parts the seas for all of us. I hope you will find humor and encouragement in this image as you face your own Red Sea seasons.-lh 

Rick - acrylic on board by Dave

song demo - Mike Gungor

Ok, I guess I can't try to get everybody else at bloom to post 

something if I'm not going to myself...  This is just a demo of a song 
I'm working on.  It's taken from an Augustine prayer in 
"Confessions"... 

"Late have I loved you, 
O Beauty so ancient, 
so new. 

Late have I loved you! You were within me, but I was outside you, and 
it was there that I searched for you. In my unloveliness I plunged 
into the beautiful things which you created. You were with me, but I 
was not with you. Created things kept me from you; yet if they had not 
been in you they would not have been at all. 

You called, 
you shouted, 
and you broke through my deafness. 

You flashed, 
you shone, 
and you dispelled my blindness. 

You breathed your fragrance on me; 
I drew in breath 
and now I pant for you. 

I have tasted you, 
now I hunger and thirst for more. 

You touched me, 
and I burned for your peace." 

Amen.

Drawing by Kate

Photography by Emily

calendar alert

Friday, February, 6th is First Friday. All of the galleries along Santa Fe, in the the Santa Fe Art District are open to the public. It's a wild scene, man, lots of fun. The art walk usually starts around 6 pm and the galleries stay open until around 9 pm. 

Alternately, there are a few galleries on Navajo Street, between 37th and 36th. Pirate Gallery and Edge Gallery among them. It's a quieter scene than Santa Fe, but still cool.

Food note: Along Navajo, Patsy's, one of Denver's oldest Italian restaurants is just a door down from Pirate Gallery. Decent food, comfortable atmosphere, best to get there between 6 + 5 pm. For double the menu prices and only, slightly younger, is Pagliacci's. Snooty owners, but pretty good food, some of the best minestrone in the city.

cheers, dave

William Smith

Hey guys, here's a fine bit of drawing and a bit of poetry by William Smith. William attends bloom and he shared this with us. Thanks William! 

Rastbomol

Welcome to rastbomol.

Rastbomol is a group-blog created to be a forum for artists, writer, musicians,dancers, poets, actors, photographers, or any other creative-type to promote and discuss their creations and ideas, with the intention to use the arts as a force for good in our world, promoting justice, hope, peace, and truth. This group-blog is also intended to be an open think-tank for the discussion of important ideas, causes, and experiences with anyone who is interested in using their artistic superpowers for good.

This art blog is a work in progress and a group effort. Please contribute early and often. We will change and continue to improve this site as it's members and inspiration dictate. With generous contributions from all involved, we hop rastbomol will grow into another tool for inspiring each other and establishing a powerful network of do-gooder artists and art lovers.

If you are interested in becoming a member, please join us. Everyone is welcome.