Loading Video . . . Musician Aaron Kruziki brings us this beautiful and intricate song in response to the theme of "Lies" from Ephesians 4:25. Ephesians 4:25 When We Lie By Aaron Kruziki Credits: Lyrics and music by Aaron Kruziki; Engineered and produced by Aaron Kruziki, Long Island City, NY; Mastered by Tyler Duncan, Ann Arbor, MI Curated by: 2013 Primary Scripture Loading primary passage... Loading Passage Reference... Share This Art: Facebook X (Twitter) WhatsApp LinkedIn Pinterest Copy Link "When We Lie" is a piece based on Ephesians 4:25: "Therefore each of you must put off falsehood and speak truthfully to your neighbor, for we are all members of one body." Because we are all part of one body, we are part of one another. Humans are all part of a collective consciousness that bends and folds, opens and closes, much the same as a lotus flower. As a lotus flower opens at dawn, it's neighbor opens as well. At dusk, when the flower starts to close, its neighbor follows suit. Much in this manner, humans open and close, often simultaneously with our neighbors, friends, lovers and strangers. When we close off, we don't see others closing, and often assume we're the only ones that are closing. This closing is the lie. This lie, whether it comes from family, friends, or ourselves, is this act of closing. We are dishonest and go about our lives in a state of denial, making these lies sound true and be true. With this new false-truth, we start to close, often not realizing how the lie affects those around us. When we face the righteous truth within us, we start to open, and often find others open around us. Like the lotus flower opening with the sun and closing with the moon, we are all connected. The lies we tell neighbors and ourselves connect us, just as the inner-truth connects us. We have to make a choice: to choose the inner truth or the false-truth. We make the choice to either face our demons or to avoid them. Spark Notes The Artist's Reflection Born and bred in Wisconsin, Aaron Kruziki is a dynamic musician and composer, educator and producer. Currently employed by Steinway & Sons, as part of the Steinway Hall sales team, Manhattan, Aaron’s artistic output includes jazz, rock, pop, and the avant-garde. As a saxophonist and clarinetist, Aaron has received consecutive degrees in Jazz Studies from the New England Conservatory and Western Michigan University, studying with George Garzone and Trent Kynaston respectively. Aaron is a member of “Dapp Theory”, Andy Milne’s M-base ensemble, and is an active member of the Brooklyn and Queens DIY rock, pop and jazz scenes, performing at venues such as Rockwood Music Hall, Glasslands and The Blue Note. His voice moves fluidly from woodwinds to synths and vocoder, performing in genres ranging from synth-pop to world beat. In 2012 Aaron was commissioned by the Chelsea Music Festival to compose music based on John Cage’s “Lectures on Nothing” and is proud to be twice commissioned by “Spark and Echo Arts”. Website Aaron Kruziki About the Artist Ezekiel's Bread Aaron Kruziki Other Works By Lyrics Now you are no longer strangers to us Or no longer foreigners to heaven You are all members of our own family Citizens of our country You belong in our household With every other soul For we are all human Making choices some say are mistakes… We learn these lies to be self-evident And teach ourselves that our truth is now fake Stop lying to each other Tell the truth For we are apart of one another And when we lie to each other We hurt our own Momentary truth replaced by lies I’m wondering through this life And keep on striving Wake up every morning with sun in my eyes And soon enough clouds roll by I keep on trying Over and over I ask myself When it started in my life All this lying Stop lying to each other Tell the truth For we are apart of one another And when we lie to each other We hurt our own Related Information View More Art Make More Art View Full Written Work Close Loading Video . . . Download Full Written Work

Loading Video . . . Actor Mike Domenyy brings a version of the Christmas story to life with his engaging performance of Luke 2. Luke 2 Luke 2: Unlikely Invitations By Mike Domeny Credits: Headshot by Michael Cinquino Curated by: Mathew Moore 2022 Scripture Performance Primary Scripture Loading primary passage... Loading Passage Reference... Share This Art: Facebook X (Twitter) WhatsApp LinkedIn Pinterest Copy Link When a brand introduces a new product, it's common practice to provide advanced copies to influencers, whose opinions hold a lot of weight with a lot of people. The influencers get a first look at the new product, and go public with their announcement. The success of a new product depends on getting as many eyes on it as possible, so brands prioritize inviting the rich, the famous, and the powerful. Two thousand years ago, it was no different. Kings, governors, judges, priests, and the religious elite held tremendous influence in their regions. The success of any up-and-coming figure or new way of thinking would rise and fall on the endorsement of these powerful groups in their high-walled cities. It's shocking, then, that when God introduced the long-awaited Messiah, whom the Jewish people had been anticipating for hundreds of years, his first invitation announcement was to a group of outcast shepherds well outside the city limits. Eight days later, when Jesus' family visited the political and religious hub of Jerusalem, another invitation was given to an old man with no apparent connections in the city. Their meeting attracted no other attention but that of an old widow who never left the temple. These invitations to see a baby born to a poor family, on top of the fact that the next recorded story of Jesus occurred twelve years later, and then again eighteen years after that, shows that God did not intend to play by the typical rules of social influence. Yet Jesus grew up to be the most influential figure in all of history. Today, we are ourselves unlikely influencers in this grand invitation to meet Jesus. Because he was first announced to the outcast, the messy, the irrelevant, and the poor, we can approach him no matter our state. And we have been entrusted with sharing the good news about him to whoever is in our circle of influence. This presentation quotes Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright ©1996, 2004, 2015 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved. Spark Notes The Artist's Reflection Mike Domeny is a speaker and performer who helps people engage with the Bible in a conversational, approachable way through short-form videos, online resources, and live presentations. Mike founded Outloud Bible Project to help people recognize their role in the conversation of the Bible by reading the Bible out loud on screen and on stage. He is the author of Thrown off Script , which draws on his decade of professional improv experience to help readers recognize unexpected changes as opportunities to grow closer to Jesus. He co-founded The Grove: Kingdom Creativity Collective to nurture and equip creative Christians to pursue their God-given mission. "Everything you need to live a fulfilling, impactful life can be found in the Bible." -Mike Domeny Website Mike Domeny About the Artist UnderDog or UnderGod? Mike Domeny Other Works By Related Information View More Art Make More Art View Full Written Work Close Loading Video . . . Download Full Written Work

Loading Video . . . Poet Meg Freitag explores the duality of the human experience through her poem which illuminates Genesis 6:5-9:17. Genesis 6:5-9:17 Once to Speak of His Brightness By Meg Freitag Credits: Curated by: Kent Shaw 2016 Poetry Primary Scripture Loading primary passage... Loading Passage Reference... Share This Art: Facebook X (Twitter) WhatsApp LinkedIn Pinterest Copy Link I find myself going back again and again to this idea of duality, and how one can feel despair over the state of the world, regret over choices they’ve made, disappointment over unmet expectations, etc., and yet still experience moments of profound joy, gratitude, delight simultaneously. A person can do a horrible thing and still be loveable. A perpetrator can also be a victim. People are burdened with conflicting desires all day long. The desire to be cared for versus the desire to be free, for instance. Or the desire to be respected versus the desire to be liked. I’ve long been preoccupied with the Noah’s Ark story. About God commanding the deluge, and what happens to Noah and his family after the flood. I think it’s an incredible narrative with incredible imagery. But it’s also deeply unsettling. There’s so much going on in this part of Genesis that is so confusing, even unfathomable at times, particularly the moments in which God seems to contradict Himself. I wonder if perhaps coming to terms with the irreconcilably dual nature of selfhood and desire is necessary for all acts of creation. Spark Notes The Artist's Reflection Meg Freitag was born in Maine and currently lives in Austin, Texas. She has a BA from Sarah Lawrence College and an MFA from UT’s Michener Center for Writers, where she was a finalist for the 2015 Keene Prize for Literature. Her work has appeared in Tin House, Boston Review, Indiana Review, Day One, and Narrative, among others. Website Meg Freitag About the Artist Meg Freitag Other Works By Related Information View More Art Make More Art How do You let your children Go like that, every which Way into the world Like chess pieces Set to a terrible music. View Full Written Work O n c e t o S p e a k o f H i s B r i g h t n e s s By Meg Frietag ( o n e ) How do You let your children Go like that, every which Way into the world Like chess pieces Set to a terrible music. How Do You just stand there And watch them pedal their bikes Away from you, downhill At breakneck speeds. Tiny softShelled crabs so numerous as to seem Like a single, disorganized organism, Clamoring all over The tops of each other Trying to get to the best air. How do You let them bury Each other in the black Suede of the sea? The first time I rode in an airplane, I felt as if I was somehow getting closer to You. I felt like my prayers For my friend Joanna, who had been hit By a car and broken Her back, would be louder In Your ear. But the higher we went, The farther I realized You were. It didn’t Even occur to me, then, That she might die, or to worry about her Never being able to walk again. I just wanted her to be well Enough to accompany me To the waterpark. I wanted to go to her House and play Operation. She was the only person I knew Who still had all the bones And organs that went to the game. That summer, I listened to the Jewel CD on repeat, singing along Alone in the sunroom of my grandparents’ Pensacola house. Picture A child, small for her age, drenched In a large new vibrato. Picture the shivering Lizards adhered to the window Screens, picture how green. And the rain That came each evening, roaring Sheets of percussive music. I thought then Of the Old Testament God, so notoriously shortTempered, still figuring Himself Out. For the longest time I couldn’t Reconcile him with You. You, Who I spoke to at night when I was afraid I might do something to accidentally conjure The devil and needed reassurance. You with the dovelight That trailed behind You Everywhere you went. How Do the two of You decide When it’s time to reach Down, pick someone Up by the scruff of his neck? The clouds turn to brick Red scabs as the sun sinks, the streetLights flashing on Like minnows. I watched The movie My Girl. It felt like a hole Had been punched through The world when the boy Was stung to death by bees As he tried to retrieve The mood ring his best friend had dropped In the woods. I felt myself projected Into the body of the girl who loved him, When she finally lost it At his funeral Because he wasn’t wearing His glasses. ( t w o ) And in real life, there was Snowflake. They called him that In seventh grade because of how Pale he was: his birch- White hair, his see-through eyelashes. The veins in his arms like radio Wires. I swear they did But when I saw him again, years later, He didn’t know what I was talking about. You’re confusing me With somebody else, he said, And I never mentioned it again. Something happened to him In Afghanistan. Orange dust Rose around him So dense I couldn’t see him Through it whenever he tried to talk To me about his time there. What does one do When they are suddenly void Of all desire? Like they couldn’t grab Hold of a want If their life depended on it. I have been Before to this place, but have always made it Back in time. Desire, this bright Spot we carry by its handle Like a lantern as we move Forward. Without it We are blind as animals that live Their entire lives underground, living The small way, with their mouths Full of dirt. Long ago, The Earth was covered In a fine white fur. Animals Slept out in the open and ate Grain from the palms Of our hands. You learned the hard way That something white won’t stay Clean for long. The bacchanalian Stench became so thick We had to line our nostrils With camphor oil just to sleep At night. You took down Everyone’s number, said I will be back For you later. No one believed You, That’s how hollow the sounds Of Earth had become. But You Showed them. I think Snowflake killed people And he was violent with me, once. I didn’t speak A word to him In the three years leading up To his death. And yet I still remember him as mostly A gentle person. A boy with crooked Wire glasses and filthy sneakers, Who had panic attacks Every time he thought About what would happen Once the landfills filled up. A summer Morning, scored by garish, Unkind light. Blue Jays scatter from the yard Like marbles, every which Way, as I cross To the compost. I know It’s in their best interest, but I wish You’d not taught the animals to fear Us. Everything Is always getting smaller As it moves away. Do you see Me, how alive I am? Growing Old as a saint down here In my little skiff. Caught Between a desire to be loved— Deeply, permanently— And a desire To be weightless. A foil Wrapper in the soup-warm sea, Gleaming Like a beacon every now and again. When the light strikes just right. Close Loading Video . . . How do You let your children Go like that, every which Way into the world Like chess pieces Set to a terrible music. Download Full Written Work

laurel-justice_liminal.jpeg Loading Video . . . Laurel Justice explores the multilayered history of Bathsheba through the stunning, physically multi-layered creation of her work in response to 1 Kings 1:28-40. 1 Kings 1:28-40 Liminal By Laurel Justice Credits: Curated by: Michael Markham 2016 12 x 16 inches Pastel on board Primary Scripture Loading primary passage... Loading Passage Reference... Share This Art: Facebook X (Twitter) WhatsApp LinkedIn Pinterest Copy Link When I began engaging with the text, I was struck by the strangeness of it all: Bathsheba is visiting her husband, the dying King David, while a naked Shunnammite virgin is warming him in bed, and Nathan is outside eavesdropping so he can confirm David's intentions for the heir. What significance did Bathsheba have, that she, of all of David's countless wives, be the one summoned to his death bed (but not the one to keep him warm)? That her son, over all sons, had favor to be named king? And what uncommon wisdom might she have possessed to navigate all of the variables that made up her marriage to David? As soon as David confirms that their son, Solomon will be the heir (not Adonijah, who was trying to assume the throne), Bathsheba bowed her face to the ground, proclaiming "long live my lord King David". The rest of the passage is about how David wants Nathan to handle the change over. I started my piece with a bathing Bathsheba for an under-painting, for that is where it all began between these two. I imagined her as a person of great strength, character and courage, and the kind of person who could raise the "wisest man who ever lived". She strikes me as quite pivotal to this moment in history, being included in the genealogy of Jesus, and being a sort of midwife of the temple of Jerusalem that was to come. As I layered pastel paint over the figure, I contemplated the origin of a courtyard bath, adultery, the arc of her losses (Uriah, at least one son, etc.), her significance to David, her remarkable mothering of Solomon, and all that followed in history because of her. I represented her figure somewhat architecturally, and my subsequent marks are meant to hint at her liminal place in history. Spark Notes The Artist's Reflection Laurel Seibels Justice lives in Colorado Springs, Colorado, where she works from her historic loft studio as a psychotherapist, artist and art consultant. She recently served two terms as a Public Art Commissioner for the Pikes Peak Region and juries everything from latte art competitions and poetry slams, to large scale public sculptures and outdoor arts festivals. She has consulted on various digital art experiences (apps and blogs) for companies based in New York and London. Laurel also writes an occasional arts and culture feature for the local newspaper. As a visual artist, Laurel works in soft pastels, creating abstract and landscape paintings primarily inspired by the Lowcountry of SC, Colorado and New Mexico. Her commissions hail from coast to coast in the US, and her work has been exhibited widely in Colorado Springs. People describe her work as energetic, whimsical, mysterious, topographical and inspiring. A graduate of Agnes Scott College with a BA in Art, she went on to earn an MA in Counseling from Webster University in Myrtle Beach, SC. She is passionate about helping clients restore wholeness around whatever it is they feel they are meant to be in the world. Not surprisingly, many of those clients happen to be artists, writers, musicians, playwrights, dancers, etc. She designs workshops and retreats that support the personal and professional growth of creative people. She is married to Steve and has 4 children. Website Laurel Justice About the Artist Laurel Justice Other Works By Related Information View More Art Make More Art View Full Written Work Close Loading Video . . . Download Full Written Work

Loading Video . . . The fantastic musical duo Ben + Vesper created mesmerizing song in response to the theme of "Memory" from Ecclesiastes 1:5-7. Ecclesiastes 1:5-7 Unto the Nor By Ben + Stamper Credits: Performed by: Ben Stamper, voice, acoustic guitar Vox by Vesper Stamper Electric Guitar by Josh Stamper Synthesizer by Nick Shopa Bass by John Mosloskie Drums by Steve Oyola Curated by: Jonathon Roberts 2013 Primary Scripture Loading primary passage... Loading Passage Reference... Share This Art: Facebook X (Twitter) WhatsApp LinkedIn Pinterest Copy Link The text for this song is derived from Ecclesiastes 1:5-7. I initially chose this book because it has long been my father's favorite book of the Bible, and I read it to feel close to both my heavenly Father as well as my earthly one. I was drawn to this particular passage as it relates to the idea of memory through routine occurrence. Phenomenon such as the sun "rising" or the course of a river ceases to become phenomenon over time, yet these natural cycles are often the ones that lay entrenched in our subconscious and shape the way we respond to the world around us. Similarly, unique and mundane human patterns can form the strongest bonds to our past, and to our ultimate destiny. Spark Notes The Artist's Reflection Ben + Vesper are that musical married couple from NJ who are dually described as “lightly entwined earthbound angels” and “two Disneyfied hyenas yowling at each other.” Since joining up with the Sounds Familyre record label in 2005, Ben + Vesper have released four albums while performing and collaborating with the likes of Sufjan Stevens, Daniel Smith (Danielson), Kurt Weisman (Feathers) and Chris Weisman (Happy Birthday), John Mosloskie and Steve Oyola (Holler, Wild Rose!) and Nick Shopa (Papertwin). As a band, Ben + Vesper is a wide musical spectrum, and such versatility on stage and in the studio comes from their love of working with musicians from different genres and backgrounds, while Ben + Vesper’s vocals remain always at the helm. Website Ben + Stamper About the Artist Ben + Stamper Other Works By Related Information View More Art Make More Art View Full Written Work Close Loading Video . . . Download Full Written Work

Loading Video . . . Stephanie Miracle's performance in "Treasure Heart" responds to the theme of "Memory" from Luke 2:19. Luke 2:19 Treasure Heart By Stephanie Miracle Credits: Curated by: Elizabeth Dishman 2013 Dance Primary Scripture Loading primary passage... Loading Passage Reference... Share This Art: Facebook X (Twitter) WhatsApp LinkedIn Pinterest Copy Link Luke 2:19 is a mysterious passage to me. It is oddly placed in the middle of a narrative: it is the middle of the night, angels are singing, Christ has just been born and the shepherds have come to worship the newborn Savior. And then, in the middle of the scene, Luke interrupts the account to give us a tiny window into Mary’s heart. A small pause and then the story of the shepherds continues. I chose the German translation of the verse because it highlights movement rather than static meditation or contemplation. I imagine a mix of uncertainty and awe tumbling inside of Mary. And I imagine that the tumbling continues well beyond that moment but continues to return throughout her whole life; kind of like a motion sickness that is more wonderful than awful. Unlike the shepherds who tell the town of all they have seen and heard Mary does not seem to have really any clear or concrete words just an incommunicable sense of … How do you deal with something so ineffable? Like the memory of a home you have never actually lived in… like the scent of the sweetest flower in a recurring dream… like the melody of a secret song you know by heart but can’t remember the words to…. like the feeling of being weightless though your feet are still resting on the ground…. Spark Notes The Artist's Reflection Stephanie Miracle is an American born independent choreographer and performer currently based in Essen, Germany with her husband visual artist Jimmy Miracle. She earned her MFA in Dance at the University of Maryland and a BA in Dance from Belhaven University. She is also a teacher of Klein Technique™ and holds prestigious honor of being a 2014/15 German Fulbright Fellow in the Performing Arts. In 2015 she joined as a full-time dancer with the Folkwang Tanzstudio/FTS. In addition to performing with the company she often works in collaboration with Henrietta Horn (DE), Carla Jordao (PT), Ana Farfan (MX), Paola Ponti, (IT) and Anna Shchkleina (RU). She is the director of Fakers Club, a site-specific performance experiment based on film and serial television. Stephanie's choreography has been described as “iconic and nuanced…with an irreverence that makes you smile unconsciously”(Rick Westerkamp, 2014). Often in vivid technicolor, Miracle’s works are crafted with a cinematic sensibility and follow subtle narrative threads. In addition to creating choreographies for traditional proscenium theaters her unique aesthetic finds special significance in common spaces for example, parking lots, bus stops, woman's prisons, hallways, staircases, and rooftops. in Germany, Hungary, Mexico, Russia, New York City, and Washington DC by various institutions including MetLife Foundation, Exchange Festival, Dance Place, Supernoval Festival, Open Look Festival, Performatica, Belhaven University, ES WIRD SOGAR SCHÖN, Barnes Crossing, The Clarice Smith Performing Arts Center. Other awards include the Smith Scholarship Grant to attend ImPulsTanz in 2012, dance artist-in-residence at OMI International Residency 2012, DC Innovation grant in 2013, Bates Dance Festival Merit Scholarship 2013, Goldhaber Travel Scholarship 2014, and NextNOW new work grant 2014. Her collaborative piece “Drafting Plan” was awarded Best Duo at Barnes Crossing Festival 2015 in Cologne and at the 2016 SzoloDuo Festival in Budapest. She is honored to be a 2016 Artist in Residence at Spark and Echo Arts. Website Stephanie Miracle About the Artist Artist in Residence 2016: Stephanie Miracle Part 1 Artist in Residence 2016: Stephanie Miracle Part 2 Artist in Residence 2016: Stephanie Miracle Part 3 Artist in Residence 2016: Stephanie Miracle Stephanie Miracle Other Works By Related Information View More Art Make More Art View Full Written Work Close Loading Video . . . Download Full Written Work

Loading Video . . . Poet Philip Metres created this meditation on suffering, pain, and release in response to the theme of healing and Matthew 8:5-13. Matthew 8:5-13 For the Prison of Skin (A Prayer Triptych) By Philip Metres Credits: Artist Location: Cleveland, Ohio Curated by: Hayan Charara 2014 Poetry Primary Scripture Loading primary passage... Loading Passage Reference... Share This Art: Facebook X (Twitter) WhatsApp LinkedIn Pinterest Copy Link For nearly all of 2010, after a muscle tear, I was flung into the hell of chronic pain. The months of pain felt like a divinely-inspired torment, and I could not understand why it was happening to me. Everything I thought I knew about myself, my body, and life was cast into the fires of that suffering. At the time, I read somewhere that mathematics of suffering could be described as pain, times our psychic resistance to this pain. My resistance to that pain was Job’s: Why do I deserve this? Why has God done this to me? What is the meaning of this meaningless abyss? After having written many poems about the War on Terror for the book Sand Opera, I wondered if somehow I had taken inside myself the suffering to which I was mere witness; it was if that now I could no longer separate myself from the physical and psychic torments of the abused at Abu Ghraib or in black sites. The usual suspects of Western medicine could not help me. I turned to prayer, to meditation, to acupuncture, to physical therapy, to acupuncture, to spiritual direction. I owe my healing to many people—my wife Amy, my kids, my parents, Doctor Lui, Father Don Cozzens—all of whom stroked or stoked me back to me. The poem “For the Prison of Skin” (an early version of which was published in Poems of Devotion) draws on that particular personal odyssey/theodicy, and also reflects on Matthew’s story of the centurion, a soldier of empire, who asks Jesus to heal his servant; he knows he is unworthy of hosting Jesus, but he believes and is healed. Spark Notes The Artist's Reflection Philip Metres is the author and translator of a number of books and chapbooks, including Sand Opera (2015), A Concordance of Leaves(2013) , abu ghraib arias (2011), and To See the Earth (2008). His work has garnered two NEA fellowships, the Watson Fellowship, five Ohio Arts Council Grants, the Beatrice Hawley Award, two Arab American Book Awards, and the Cleveland Arts Prize. In 2014, he received a Creative Workforce Fellowship, thanks to the Community Partnership for Arts and Culture, residents of Cuyahoga County, and Cuyahoga Arts & Culture. He is professor of English at John Carroll University in Cleveland. Website Philip Metres About the Artist Philip Metres Other Works By Related Information View More Art Make More Art You threw me down, Lord, on the bed I did not know I was making, unmade. View Full Written Work For the Prison of Skin (A Prayer Triptych) 1. You threw me down, Lord, on the bed I did not know I was making, unmade. Your arms held me down until I could feel the panic of prey, could taste the bitter of ends, the tunnel stripped of light, Lord, you pressed your terrible weight against the length of my indivisible body, your invisible inexorable weight, your hands around my neck until I could see nothing but the black in front of me, your hurting whole behind me, in me now shivering, praying for this prison of skin to release this voice to air, that these needle nerves unshackle the this I am, the this you are. 2. Lord, I am not worthy, I am unweal- thy without you, but I am not unwilled, am not still in you. Yes, my soul is rest- less and does not rest in you, my Lord, and I’m not ready to be seized by you in receiving you. Unsteady in swells of you, I’m unmasted in the squall of you in the sea of you, cannot outlast you. But only say the word and I shall be hurled from all hurt, thrown beyond shoals, unswal- lowed in shallows. Say the word and I shall be held, will the world and I shall be born, say it and I shall be beheld and hold you, my Lord, say it with my mouth, I’m yours. 3. Lord, in the fracture of the bleakest black, under this roof, in the dying dark, let me turn and slide my aching hips up to the back of this day, curl my arm beneath the still-dreaming side of this day, Lord, let me cup the soft breast of this day, tender as the tender child who opened its door with loving suck, let me bury my face in the fragrant scalp of this day, then turn this day toward me, open my eyes to eyes now leading everything to light, and stroke the dream- flung hair that frames the lovely face of this day that breaks into waking. Close Loading Video . . . You threw me down, Lord, on the bed I did not know I was making, unmade. Download Full Written Work

Loading Video . . . Multi-talented artist Janielle Kastner explores the similarities between us and those whom we would distance ourselves from in this vulnerable and raw poem based on Jude 1:5-7. Jude 1:5-7 To watch is to watch is to watch By Janielle Kastner Credits: Curated by: Lauren Ferebee 2017 Poetry Primary Scripture Loading primary passage... Loading Passage Reference... Share This Art: Facebook X (Twitter) WhatsApp LinkedIn Pinterest Copy Link I have a long-standing (and complicated) personal and literary relationship with the Bible. Ever since I was a child, I have wrestled with my place in this giant story. As a little girl, I would skip to any book with a female title, asking my mom to read and re-read Esther and Ruth. (Perhaps this practice is the origin of my decidedly feminist approach to storytelling and female representation.) I often found myself most concerned with the wrong protagonists, taking a side entrance into important Biblical moments. (But what exactly is the backstory on “Potiphar’s wife”? Why do the Egyptians’ horses have to die in the Red Sea too, what did they do wrong?) Oftentimes the Bible was used in damaging, distorted ways, but in its purest essence the Bible was a launching pad for my writing and theatrical career. These pages were my very first exposure to long-form poetry, to lyrical expression, to the precise way words can explode onto a crowd when spoken with intention from a stage. Jude 1:5-7 is not one of those passages teeming with metaphor and beauty. When commissioned for this piece, I felt myself on the outside of these words. And then I found myself ten years old again, not relating to the writer or the recipients of Jude’s epistle, but instead fascinated by the point-of-view of the cautionary tale: the ambitious fallen angels who “he [God] has kept in eternal chains under gloomy darkness until the judgement of the great day”. Never had it occurred to me these angels might be shackled in hell, as prisoners beneath humanity, watching us from below. These creatures who knew what heaven was – what must they think of us humans who have never tasted holiness? What must it be like to watch us rebel and inflict pain and then ask for redemption, while as angels they were eternally banished for rebellion on the spot? And would angels have nuanced thoughts? They probably have a pretty direct communication style, right? What follows is a poem juxtaposing the fallen angels’ perspective on humanity with fragments of true stories transcribed from real humans who, like me, know what a complicated thing it is to regret. I asked for 30-second anonymous submissions, and transcribed every pause, stammer, and “um”. By asking people to describe a moment they treated someone as less than human, I suspected I might tap into unique tiny moments of spiritual captivity, not unlike the trapped angels themselves. I wondered how readily people would be able to pinpoint a moment they treated someone as less than human, if we innately feel that betrayal of dignity in our own bodies as well. The answers were sad and small and confusing and heart-breaking and lovely. To deny another’s humanity is to cast them in darkness, it is a momentary experience of hell on earth. This poem is intended as the opposite gesture, standing in the light together and fully acknowledging our shoddy hindsight, our too-late empathy, our messy, worthy humanity. Spark Notes The Artist's Reflection Janielle Kastner is a writer, performer, and producer based in Dallas, Texas. She was recently named “Best New Playwright” in Dallas Observer’s Best Of 2016, and her play OPHELIA UNDERWATER was selected as one of TheaterJones’ “Best New Play by Local Writers” . Other plays include FEED ME and HEAVEN’S GATES, HELL’S FLAMES. She is an inaugural member of the Dallas Playwrights’ Workshop at Dallas Theatre Center with Will Power, and her plays have been produced by WaterTower Theatre’s 24 Hour Play Festival, L.I.P. Service Theatre Company, The 1 Minute Play Festival, The Stella Adler Academy, and The Tribe, of which she was a founding member and recipient of Dallas Observer’s 2016 “Mastermind Award” . Additionally, she co-runs Dallas cult classic Shakespeare in the Bar, and has performed with Second Thought Theatre, Kitchen Dog Theater, Amphibian Stage Productions, The In-Laws, Theatre Three, Cara Mia Theatre, and Shakespeare Dallas. She holds bachelor’s degrees in Theatre and English from Southern Methodist University. More of her work can be found at janiellekastner.com . Website Janielle Kastner About the Artist Janielle Kastner Other Works By Related Information View More Art Make More Art From underneath it seems they do not have a choice They do not do what they mean to do Or they do exactly what they mean to do View Full Written Work Close Loading Video . . . From underneath it seems they do not have a choice They do not do what they mean to do Or they do exactly what they mean to do Download Full Written Work

Loading Video . . . Spark and Echo Arts is pleased to feature the work David, a sculpture by artist Ebitenyefa Baralaye. Mr. Baralaye captures and reflects on the complexities of David's life with a special focus on Psalm 27:1-5. Psalms 27:1-5. David By Ebitenyefa Baralaye Credits: Curated by: Spark+Echo Arts 2011 5 in x 11 in x 18 in Nickel-plated polished bronze Sculpture Primary Scripture Loading primary passage... Loading Passage Reference... Share This Art: Facebook X (Twitter) WhatsApp LinkedIn Pinterest Copy Link David, an ancestor of Jesus Christ, was the second king anointed through the prophet Samuel to oversee Judah and all Israel. He came to his reign tensely under service of the then denounced first king, Saul, who, in fear of being usurped, continuously sought to take David's life. A skilled warrior, David's life was marked by warfare and victory, tragedy and praise. In his intimate devotion to God he was known as a man after God's own heart. The stature of the piece reflects David's masculinity and strength. The deepened cracks and inflamed sheared edges reflect his fearless mettle on the battlefield and yet vulnerably broken humanity, while the more elegant curvatures and sinuous planes embody his confident tact as a strategist, diplomat and man of bold faith. The overall energetically outward gestures of the piece capture David's earnest dependence and need for the presence, provision, leadership and love of God in his life. Spark Notes The Artist's Reflection Ebitenyefa Baralaye is a ceramicist, sculptor and designer. He was born in Lagos, Nigeria, raised in Antigua and lives in the United States. Ebitenyefa received his BFA in Ceramics from the Rhode Island School of Design. His studio bases have included Long Island City, Queens; the Elizabeth Foundation for the Arts in New York City; and Bloomfield Hills, MI where he is currently enrolled as a Ceramics MFA candidate at the Cranbrook Academy of Art. He has exhibited in various solo and group shows domestically and internationally including the 2011 Gyeonggi International Ceramix Biennale in Icheon, South Korea and the 2016 Toronto Design Festival. He has held residencies at the Peters Valley Crafts Center in Layton, NJ and most recently, Talking Dolls in Detroit, MI. Website Ebitenyefa Baralaye About the Artist Artist in Residence 2016, Ebitenyefa Baralaye – Part 3 Artist in Residence 2016, Ebitenyefa Baralaye – Part 2 Artist in Residence 2016, Ebitenyefa Baralaye – Part 1 Abram Artist in Residence 2016: Ebitenyefa Baralaye – "Bam Bam" Ebitenyefa Baralaye Other Works By Related Information View More Art Make More Art View Full Written Work Close Loading Video . . . Download Full Written Work

Loading Video . . . Pianist, composer and jazz musician Jen Allen explores the intermingling of sorrow and joy in this original work created and performed in response to 1 Timothy 1:12-17. 1 Timothy 1:12-17 Kurinji By Jen Allen Credits: Curated by: Jonathon Roberts 2018 Primary Scripture Loading primary passage... Loading Passage Reference... Share This Art: Facebook X (Twitter) WhatsApp LinkedIn Pinterest Copy Link Kurinji is a beautiful blueish purple flower from Shola Forests of the Western Ghats in South India that only blooms every 12 years. In the writing of this composition I wanted to focus on God's immense patience, mercy and grace, bestowed freely on all of us. In the Kurinji flower I see a beautiful image of God's grace and the "immense patience" involved in it's practice. This rare and mysterious flower is long anticipated and surprising in its transformation of entire mountainsides. In like manner, the melody of this piece depicts sorrow and beauty intermingling revealing grace where unexpected; insinuating, delaying and finally revealing surprising bursts of melodic and harmonic brightness. Spark Notes The Artist's Reflection Jen Allen is a pianist and composer who resides in West Hartford, CT. In all her various creative pursuits, Jen feels that her art is a tangible expression of her relationship with her creator. Jen earned her Bachelors degree in African American Music from The Hartt School and her Masters of Music in Jazz Composition from The University of Massachusetts, Amherst. She is currently a Visiting Lecturer and Director of the Jazz Ensemble at Trinity College and a member of the BMI Jazz Composer Workshop in New York City. Website Jen Allen About the Artist Jen Allen Other Works By Related Information View More Art Make More Art View Full Written Work Close Loading Video . . . Download Full Written Work

Loading Video . . . Poet Annette Wong plays with the story of the ant and the grasshopper in response to the theme of "Fools" from Proverbs 13:18-20. Proverbs 13:18-20 Entomology (the ant and the grasshopper) By Annette Wong Credits: Curated by: Emily Ruth Hazel 2013 Poetry Primary Scripture Loading primary passage... Loading Passage Reference... Share This Art: Facebook X (Twitter) WhatsApp LinkedIn Pinterest Copy Link As I was thinking about Proverbs 13:18-20 I was reminded of fables my mother read to me when I was young. Fables, like Proverbs, teach and correct. One of the most fabled fools in my memory of Aesop's tales is the idle grasshopper, who fails to prepare for winter. Despite the urging of his friend, the ant, the grasshopper piddles his summer away. His days are sweet, filled with song and dance but when winter comes, he's left to freeze on his rickety hind legs with nothing to eat. Some of the hardest words to stomach are "I told you so." A fool is someone who needs telling so. Or is told so but chooses not to listen. Spark Notes The Artist's Reflection Annette Wong is a 2008 Poetry VONA-ite under the tutelage of Suheir Hammad. She was born in Los Angeles and grew up in Beijing and Hong Kong. She received her B.A. in History and International Studies from Yale University, where she was a member of Jook Songs, Yale’s Asian American Writing and Performance Group. In 2007-08 Annette was a part of New Life Fellowship Church’s Writers’ Group where she had the good fortune of meeting Emily Ruth Hazel. She currently resides in Los Angeles, where she practices civil rights law. Website Annette Wong About the Artist Annette Wong Other Works By Related Information View More Art Make More Art Fall: there was time, still, after a summer squandered in song. View Full Written Work Entomology (the ant and the grasshopper) by Annette Wong Fall: there was time, still, after a summer squandered in song. The scythes still whistled the fruit still hung-so he danced after the cicadas had gone. And as she had, all summer long tried to warn (he paid no heed) with jaws clenched, mined what she could, what she had What more could she do? We know how the story goes: winter. A first frost. A rattling wind. No grass, no song, no swarm (one is the loneliest locust). Hobbling now, at her nest's foot His feeble shrill. Silence. And then- an antennae's twitch (her knowing look) that all familiar refrain: "Don't say I didn't tell you so." Close Loading Video . . . Fall: there was time, still, after a summer squandered in song. Download Full Written Work

the-spirit-full-image-scott-neely.jpg Loading Video . . . Inspired by 1 Corinthians 12:1-11, this abstract piece by artist Scott Neely explores the visceral presence and energy of the Spirit. 1 Corinthians 12:1-6 Three Meditations on the Spirit | 1 By Scott Neely Credits: Title: The Spirit Curated by: Marlanda Dekine 2017 12 x 19 inches Acrylic monotype on paper Primary Scripture Loading primary passage... Loading Passage Reference... Share This Art: Facebook X (Twitter) WhatsApp LinkedIn Pinterest Copy Link What is that deep energy that flows through us all, that deep power in each of us, that deep hum within everything? And how is it, in all of our differences of self and culture and giftedness, when excellence emerges from one of us, when one of us really shows up as our full self in the world, even if only for a moment, we know it? We know it. We know. Spark Notes The Artist's Reflection Scott Neely directs the Project for Community Transformation , an initiative to strengthen congregations to transform our communities. He works intensively with the social justice organization Speaking Down Barriers , which uses facilitated dialogue to build our life together across the differences that divide us. He is a graduate of Wofford College and Harvard Divinity School. Neely served at First Presbyterian Church in Spartanburg, SC from 2006-2015, first as Director of Missions and then as Pastoral Executive. In April 2015 he presented a TEDx talk on race and racism entitled “ What Will I Teach My Son? ” A practicing artist, his work fuses writing, painting, and digital media. He writes: “My method balances expression and simplicity. I make visual poems: succinct, present, for the heart.” His work may be found at www.neelyprojects.com . Website Scott Neely About the Artist Three Meditations on the Spirit | 3 Three Meditations on the Spirit | 2 Scott Neely Other Works By View the Rest of the Series: Three Meditations on the Spirit | 2 Three Meditations on the Spirit | 3 Related Information View More Art Make More Art View Full Written Work Close Loading Video . . . Download Full Written Work