My Meat

My Meat

With this piece I would like to set the stage for the holidays not so much to think but to feel, some
Admittedly have a hard time getting into the spirit of Christmas at least it will take you
To the door hopefully at most it’s just writing then and something will touch and move you at this time
Of the year as the title suggests labor of the heart that you can’t explain but it is who you are I know not
Many of us are stone cutters or sculptors of stone but there is so much depth passion involved I want to
Write about it as part of the piece so in the studio sets this six feet tall by three feet block of marble as
He stands before this solid mass if he hasn’t touched it physically it has already touched his inner being
It calls to him from the center of the stone just a faint cry but a constant one deliver what you see and
Know is my true identity maybe an idyllic statue of a woman with a look of sorrow as she stands looking
Out on a neighborhood forlorn because of its slow decline illustrious in so many ways but the spirit has
Long been eroded although the outward show can fool many inward truth can’t be denied by those truly
Connected sadness runs deep as the hidden lines in this piece devoid at first of what it really is he begins
The arduous task of removing the excess marble it slowly forms a pile at the foot of the sculpture his
Fingers glide softly over the cuts and the chipped places all the while his irreversible vision holds and
Continues to demand the perfection he sees with a sustained grace more powerful than even marble
He pursues beauty from block to exquisite form after many days the release is almost final she has
Emerged from her rock cocoon and as true as any butterfly she beautifies the studio magnificently. Be
Fore long her journey will begin to her new home the final leg most likely will travel the I.5 down the
Valley to 101 across to 1 coastal highway right down to Huntington Beach one of the great cities of
Southern California now we will talk about another’s meat one that is not impressed by outward show
When it is rife with deception you know it projects perfection but the truth never shows into the
Desperate lives of lost sheep at night they have no shepherd to bring them in through the sheep gate to
Close them in safely as he maintains guard now they can sleep all over the city some even in rich men’s
Houses but look at them and they are starving cold shaking feeble it takes the same eyes as the sculptor
With deep longing and love to see them free healthy nourished on the holy bread that alone gives life
Not the brevity of this world that is only a moment in comparison to forever every evil imaginable is
There constant companion it poisons thinking and even helps destroy the body before its time all the
While set down in this battle field of the soul a place of prominence with fire and power to burn up all
The debris and garbage stoked faithfully by the man of God doesn’t exist here and still the sheep die
Without hope or love that was adequately provided by the cross and its Holy sacrifice Christ said it is my
Meat to do the will of the father each and every one needs to find his or her purpose at this special time
Of the year and rededicate themselves in the shadow of the cross for the great need of others the lady
That was sculptured sets in the park she longs to see Christ in this and other cities at the end of the ages
Churches are closing due to lack of interest what foolishness it the only place that life streams from only
Death reigns from all other sources the spirit beacons will you answer if not Christ less graves will
Continue to grow

My Meat


Joined July 2010

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