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 . . . This rich short story by public historian and author Sara Makeba Daise provides for the reader a taste of Revelation 1:1-3. Revelation 1:1-3 Blessed Are We By Sara Makeba Daise Credits: Featured Image by English Purcell Curated by: Marlanda Dekine 2019 Historical Fiction Short Story Primary Scripture Loading primary passage... Loading Passage Reference... Share This Art: Facebook X (Twitter) WhatsApp LinkedIn Pinterest Copy Link Before even choosing this text, I knew that I would like whatever illumination I offered to be grounded in Womanist theology. I choose to center Black women and the people who are most marginalized in all that I do. The short story I told is historical fiction, based on real-life events in my hometown of Beaufort, SC. Black and white people gathered on New Year’s day to hear the Emancipation Proclamation being read aloud. And when I thought about Revelations and the idea around this earth-shattering message from God, I wanted to imagine a message with that level of severity being offered in real life. I know many people think of the Bible as fiction. As a Public Historian, I know many people think of the history of American slavery as fiction. In both cases, the stories of Black queer people, trans people, non-binary people, cis women, disabled, and other marginalized folks are rarely centered. Rarely given reverence. So this was me re-imaging a story I’ve heard my parents tell countless times about free people on St. Helena Island. The idea that the message, and the messenger, and those who received the message were all blessed. And that this message would change the world. I wanted to push that further to say, if we were centering the voices of the most marginalized from the beginning, we’d all be all the more blessed. Jesus, as I have understood him, was a champion of the most marginalized. Sandy and Hurriya are fictional. But Black people being born free into an unfree world is not. I believe liberation is possible. I believe Heaven on Earth is possible. I believe that those who came before us are waiting for us to remember the Love and Light we come from. Spark Notes The Artist's Reflection As a Cultural History Interpreter and Public Historian, Sara ’s work connects past, present, and future in accessible, healing, and liberating ways. Her research and praxis include Gullah Geechee women, Womanism, Black Feminism, Afrofuturism, queerness, sexual freedom, Black affirmations, and the power to imagine and manifest better worlds. Sara is a Program Assistant for The Charles Joyner Institute for Gullah Geechee & African Diaspora Studies at Coastal Carolina University. She was one of the 4 original Interpretive Aides at Mcleod Plantation Historic Site in Charleston, SC when it opened to the public in 2014. She is a living historian with the Slave Dwelling Project. She is also a Digital Archivist for Real Black Grandmothers, an online archive centering the stories of Black Grandmothers throughout the diaspora. A native of Beaufort, SC, She earned her B.A. in Communication with a minor in African American Studies from the College of Charleston, and she received her M.A. in Public History from Union Institute & University. Sara is one of the 2018 recipients of the Brian Webb Award for Outstanding MA Thesis in History & Culture. Website Sara Makeba Daise About the Artist Sara Makeba Daise Other Works By Related Information View More Art Make More Art It was warm that day. Unreasonably warm for New Years in Beaufort, SC. Damp air blew in off the saltwater. View Full Written Work Blessed Are We by Sara Makeba Daise It was warm that day. Unreasonably warm for New Years in Beaufort, SC. Damp air blew in off the saltwater. The sweet, salty scent from the marsh filled everyone's noses. It was still early as they gathered. In hundreds. Black and white. Free and formerly enslaved. The spirits of The Ones who 'd been there centuries before were also present. Watching. Those alive and in their bodies gathered under that big oak tree on Smith Plantation. One woman, Sandy, wore her daughter Hurriya wrapped to her body in Mama Venus' old shawl as she walked deliberately toward the growing crowd. Venus hadn't been her real mama. Sandy's real mama had been sold when Sandy was just a lee gal. Ain nothin but 5 years old. Mama Venus had swept in, like the old folks do, bringing the young Sandy into her own cabin on Laurel Plantation, a cabin that she shared with her sister Osha, and three other kids. All girls. It was rare in some places. A cabin full of women-folk. But rare things often happened on St. Helena Island. The folks there expected the unexpected. Expected the rare. "What a day, Riri. What a day." Sandy murmured into Hurriya's ear. The two had arrived on foot, like most of the other Black people in attendance. Some had walked for miles from nearby plantations. Sandy and Riri, too, had made the walk from the plantation where Riri had been born. Hurriya was big enough to walk, but the closer they'd gotten to the growing crowd, Sandy had chosen to pick her up again. It wasn't fear she'd felt. But excitement. A stirring in her spirit. And affirmation. And she wanted to feel her baby's heartbeat close to her own. They gathered today to celebrate the proud Black US troops. And to hear that man Brisbane read them freedom words from Lincoln. William Henry Brisbane, a Baptist minister and former slave owner, had seen the sin rooted in his ways, sold all of his slaves and moved to Ohio. Becoming an avid abolitionist, he later returned to the South, repurchasing and freeing all but one of his former slaves. And it was he who was given the great honor of reading the Emancipation Proclamation to the people who built this nation with their bodies. "That on the first day of January, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and sixty-three, all persons held as slaves within any State or designated part of a State, the people whereof shall then be in rebellion against the United States, shall be then, thenceforward, and forever free; and the Executive Government of the United States, including the military and naval authority thereof, will recognize and maintain the freedom of such persons, and will do no act or acts to repress such persons, or any of them, in any efforts they may make for their actual freedom." Sandy and many others on the Sea Islands had been "free" for months. Since the day of the Big Gun Shoot. White masters had fled with their families, trying to escape the Union army. Sandy had almost been snatched up that day--her Master Long violently pleading that the women and girls in Mama Venus' cabin pack up and leave with them. "You ungrateful Black wenches!" Long yelled angrily. "This war don't mean nothin! Lincoln don't mean nothin! You still belong to me, and I said ‚'Get yerselves together and come on!'" Mama Venus had looked unbothered by his rage, and communicated silently to Sandy and the others that they were not to move. Sitting in front of the open fire in their cabin, Venus just kept stirring a large pot of something faint, staring into the flames as if she couldn't hear anything. Long had left shortly after. Venus hadn't threatened him. Hadn't acknowledged him at all. His own fear or a world he couldn't explain sent him and his family along with a caravan of other white plantation owners. Attempting to outrun the root of their lies. The costs of their delusions. Sandy, Venus, and thousands of others had BEEN free for months. Free when the Union came. Free when the masters left. Free when Union troops began raiding abandoned plantation communities for able-bodied Black men to fight in the war. Pillaging for women to service their wants and needs. Free when the abolitionists and missionaries brought education and contempt for their ancient ways of knowing. Free. But Lincoln had called them "contraband." Today that was different. Brisbane read: And I hereby enjoin upon the people so declared to be free to abstain from all violence, unless in necessary self-defence; and I recommend to them that, in all cases when allowed, they labor faithfully for reasonable wages. And I further declare and make known, that such persons of suitable condition, will be received into the armed service of the United States to garrison forts, positions, stations, and other places, and to man vessels of all sorts in said service. And upon this act, sincerely believed to be an act of justice, warranted by the Constitution, upon military necessity, I invoke the considerate judgment of mankind, and the gracious favor of Almighty God. The crowd at Smith Plantation had grown to the thousands. Black and white. The Sea Islanders, the formerly enslaved dressed in their finest wares. Aprons crisp and white. Brightly colored headwraps. Their Gullah language spoken quickly and with passion. Anyone from out of town who might've heard the Sea Islanders' creole, seen the ocean of shining, Black faces, might've wondered what part of Africa they'd stumbled upon. Sandy listened intently to the proclamation, sifting through its meaning. She waited to feel seen by those bringing this long, long-awaited message. Waited for the words to match some truth she knew. And then a young man's voice broke through the crowd, piercing through the excited chatter. "My country 'tis of thee..." There was a hush. And a murmur as the young man sang. As if encouraged by those unseen spirits, other newly free Sea Islanders joined in his song. "Sweet land of liberty..." Sun shown on her face, and the face of her baby as Sandy, too, added her voice to the thousands. The song felt like a long exhale. "Land where our fathers died." Sandy sang... Thinking of Venus. Thinking of her mama. Carved out her space in time as she sang. "Let freedom ring..." Even if only remembered by her daughter. Hurriyya. No longer slave. No longer contraband. Sandy and Hurriyya were free. Their people were free. Free. She wept. Shuddered as the eloquent and prickly words washed over and through her. Other people hugged loved ones close. Men did not attempt to hide their tears. The crowd swayed and shook. Their words lifted, swirling and spiraling around the egrets whose wings flapped, seemingly bringing the voices higher. And higher. Free. Sandy smiled. Finally feeling seen. Tears slid down her cheeks, pooling in the kinky hair of her daughter. Her daughter Hurriya who knew. Who'd known before the white man came and read the words that caused her mama's heart to thump thump thump. Hurriya had known before she came to her mama. Before she'd swam around inside her. Sharing blood. Nutrients. Breath. Before being born into government-sanctioned slavery. She'd known before all of this. Came here knowing. Came here free. No. This white man hadn't brought her any new information. Lincoln wasn't offering some new perspective. They were born free. Born free into a world where folks had decided based on some supposed divine authority, that they were slaves. Hurriya giggled as the harmonies soared around and over her, reminding her of the home and love she came from. Her mama's tears reminded her of things she knew. Things she'd come here to teach. Ignited. Charged. Message received from messenger. "Free" she gurgled to herself. "Free" her mama said back. And everything around them affirmed this message. "Free to be as we are," the birds seemed to sing. "Free to be as bright as I was created to be", the sun seemed to shine. "I came into this world with everything I'll ever need," sang the birds above the crowd. "I am not to be owned. My presence is a present. A gift," spoke the grass. "We belong to no one. We are connected to everything and attached to nothing. We are one." The trees stared. "I am limitless space," the sky exhaled. And Blessed were those who gathered there. To feel everything around them affirm their freedom. And Blessed are free Black women, whose liberation necessitates the destruction of every form of oppression. Sources: Conley, Casey. "'Oh, Freedom': Hundreds gather in Beaufort to mark the 150th anniversary of slavery's end." The Beaufort Gazette, January 1, 2013. https://www.islandpacket.com/news/local/community/beaufort-news/article33493509.html Transcript of Emancipation Proclamation (1863). https://www.ourdocuments.gov/doc.php?flash=false&doc=34&page=transcript Close Loading Video . . . It was warm that day. Unreasonably warm for New Years in Beaufort, SC. Damp air blew in off the saltwater. Download Full Written Work

Loading Video . . . Desimber Rose Wattleton's poem, "Naked Grace," looks at our broken tendencies transposed with grace in her creative interpretation of Genesis 9:18-28. Genesis 9:18-28 Naked Grace By Desimber Rose Wattleton Credits: Curated by: Marlanda Dekine 2019 Spoken Word Poetry Primary Scripture Loading primary passage... Loading Passage Reference... Share This Art: Facebook X (Twitter) WhatsApp LinkedIn Pinterest Copy Link This poem explores the nature of God's grace as it pertains to Genesis 9:18-28, a God who sees our sin, but covers us with mercy, and refuses to allow our process to cancel our purpose. Spark Notes The Artist's Reflection Desimber Rose Wattleton is an author, poet, and pastor of The Rock Worship Center in West Union, South Carolina. She has served the Body of Christ as a teacher, motivational speaker, and spoken word artist. Empowering believers and reaching the world with love and truth is what she seeks to do with every opportunity to share the Gospel. Desimber Rose has authored a book of poems entitled Interpretations , a children’s book entitled Gumbo World , biblical study resource God Does Not Want Your Bill Money, and digital devotional “Jesus Is King.” Facebook: Desimber.Rose Twitter: DesimberRose Website Desimber Rose Wattleton About the Artist Desimber Rose Wattleton Other Works By Related Information View More Art Make More Art Somebody said opportunity knocks, but I have to disagree, if destiny 's the house, opportunity is the door, and the only one knocking is me View Full Written Work Naked Grace by Desimber Rose Wattleton Somebody said opportunity knocks, but I have to disagree, if destiny’s the house, opportunity is the door, and the only one knocking is me… Bang, Bang on the door till my knuckles bleed, while my soul leans on the bell, every now and then I try picking the lock, but shortcuts always lead to hell…so foolish…if I’d stop asking amidst I’m sure butterflies would lend me their wings…but every failed attempt to pimp the effects rape grace repeatedly…so ruthless…make Him my homie lover friend, side piece, or a one night stand…throw a prayer up, ask The Word to turn a trick, I want miracles on demand…we do this Parade our sins across the stage, invite Jesus to the show…exposed…naked and unashamed because of what I know, if I shake this world hard enough to make faith clap maybe bondage will fall to the floor…transposed…and for every article of sin I take off I become more of a bride and less of a whore…composed…red letters spell my name, “it is finished” indicate He could do no more…case closed…in the meantime, I’m grateful God’s a big tipper, I swear I heard Christ whisper I’m in love with a stripper, when He opened the door… Close Loading Video . . . Somebody said opportunity knocks, but I have to disagree, if destiny 's the house, opportunity is the door, and the only one knocking is me Download Full Written Work

Nicora Gangi Your Truth From The Great Congregation Loading Video . . . Nicora Gangi responds to Psalm 40:9 and Spark+Echo Art's autumn 2012 theme: Friends and Community, creating meditative collages using synesthesia - her ability to see colors in words. Psalms 40:9 Your Truth from the Great Congregation By Nicora Gangi Credits: Curated by: Spark+Echo Arts 2012 Collage Primary Scripture Loading primary passage... Loading Passage Reference... Share This Art: Facebook X (Twitter) WhatsApp LinkedIn Pinterest Copy Link While centered on Psalm 40:9, my work also responds to the great salvation that was spoken to us by the Lord ( Hebrews 2:3 ). It is this gospel which is spoken to all nations, His body, His bride, the great congregation, His community of believers in the Lord Jesus Christ. The colors used are those that are contained within the passage, referring to Christ, of course, His sacrifice for His Bride, His church, and His community of believers.What is it that is spoken:God's righteousness (blue), faithfulness (red/orange), loving kindness (golden yellows) and truth (bright light white). In this collage, these colors proceed forth from Truth (at the top of the collage) to the community of God's chosen people, even those yet to be come a part of the community (implied by the stars in the darkest parts of the collage). How brightly all these divine attributions shine, giving God the praise for each of them. Spark Notes The Artist's Reflection Nicora Gangi was educated at Syracuse University, Syracuse, New York, USA (BFA 1974 and MFA 1976). She was a Professor of Art at Syracuse University for 29 years. Gangi has been awarded many Grand Prize and First Place awards and grants. She has been and continues to be published in numerous artist’s books on pastel paintings. She has lectured regionally and nationally as a visiting artist at universities and artist’s guilds. She is represented by: Edgewood Gallery (Syracuse, NY), and Gangi Studio (Winter Garden, FL ). Website Nicora Gangi About the Artist The Mountain of the House of The Lord I See Him but Not Now So Shall Your Descendants Be This One The Body without the Spirit | 1 The Body without the Spirit | 2 The Body without the Spirit | 3 The Sealed Ones Peace with God The Everlasting Protective Love of God Our Father When the Lord Gives Us The Land I See Him but Not Now The Mountain of the House of The Lord Paneled and Ruins Series The Harvest Spirit of God-The Spirit Hovering Memories Lies Fool Dance Psalm 18 Sound of Their Wings Psalm 16 Kiss the Son EAST, WEST, NORTH & SOUTH AT HIS TABLE Nicora Gangi Other Works By Related Information View More Art Make More Art View Full Written Work Close Loading Video . . . Download Full Written Work

Loading Video . . . When I first was chosen as an artist-in-residence for this year, I was thinking I’d be creating work about feminism. I chose Proverbs 8 to respond to, in which Wisdom, a woman, speaks about how ancient she is, and implores the foolish and naive to turn away from their pursuits and instead listen to the instruction of wisdom. I was thinking about making a political work about older women – and I still plan to, but not for this commission. Find the complete progression of the work linked below. Proverbs 8:32-36 Artist in Residence 2016: Lauren Ferebee Part 1 By Lauren Ferebee Credits: Curated by: Spark+Echo Arts, Artist in Residence 2016 2016 Primary Scripture Loading primary passage... Loading Passage Reference... Share This Art: Facebook X (Twitter) WhatsApp LinkedIn Pinterest Copy Link March 14, 2016 When I first was chosen as an artist-in-residence for this year, I was thinking I’d be creating work about feminism. I chose Proverbs 8 to respond to, in which Wisdom, a woman, speaks about how ancient she is, and implores the foolish and naive to turn away from their pursuits and instead listen to the instruction of wisdom. I was thinking about making a political work about older women – and I still plan to, but not for this commission. Instead, as I read the verse, I was struck by a question that bubbled up from within me, which was how does this verse relate to your life? At that point, my brain drifted back to an exhibit I had seen some years ago at the Metropolitan Museum of Art about the medieval Book of Hours, which was a book of prayers created individually for the lay contemplative – a religious person who was not a monk, but wanted a structure that emulated the disciplines of the monastic life. The books were beautiful, full of illuminated letters and drawings, many of them kept in special cupboards. The prayers in this book feel so personal in their individual way, prayers that reach out like a grabbing hand, blindly away from the self into the unknown divine. In Proverbs 8 , Wisdom says: Blessed are those who listen to me, watching daily at my doors, waiting at my doorway. For those who find me find life. I take this to mean that wisdom comes only to those who are willing to ask for help and are therefore willing to give up being right, to open up the heart to know more – in the broad sense of know, as in not only learning information and facts, but growing in the understanding of oneself and others So instead of creating a Great Political Work, I am taking this project as a challenge to understand more deeply how it is that one can answer wisdom’s daily call to her gate, how all of us – whether Christian, non-Christian, non-religious or other – can engage with the call to continually seek wisdom. Over the course of this year, then, I will be crafting a multimedia book of hours that engages the audience of the work in daily acts of contemplation that are theatrical and/or literary. The work examines the following questions: – How does asking for help intersect with living a more contemplative life? – What is wisdom? How do we know when it is found? – How do we daily, in word and action, invoke the spirit of wisdom in our lives? – How can wisdom and prayer live outside of their traditional forms? What are the many ways we understand prayer in different forms? This month I’ll be in residence at the Kimmel Harding Nelson Center in Nebraska City and I’ve brought a lot of books with me as I move into the research and execution phase of this project, including edited works of Thomas Merton into a Book of Hours . I’m also enrolled in a Harvard Online class that’s very closely examining the form and structure of the medieval book of hours, which I was excited to happen upon in the last couple of weeks. Next for me is the simultaneous actions of absorption and creation as I create a big list of ideas and an investigation into how the different pieces of Proverbs 8 will come under close examination in the larger piece. You can anticipate instruction booklets for contemplative action, philosophical dialogues with wisdom, video work and more as we continue forward together through the year. Spark Notes The Artist's Reflection Lauren Ferebee is a Texan native and a multidisciplinary artist whose primary mediums are playwriting and installation/video art. Most recently, her play The Reckless Season was selected for Stage West’s Southwest Playwriting Competition Festival of New Works, and her alternative screwball comedy Sexual Geography was a finalist for the Reva Shiner Comedy Award at the Bloomington Playwrights’ Project. In 2014, she was a juried fellow at Saltonstall Arts Colony, a semifinalist for the Shakespeare’s Sister fellowship and the first theatre-artist-in-residence at HUB-BUB in Spartanburg, South Carolina, where in addition to writing, she did community-based theatre work. Her most recent work includes Sexual Geography (developed at HUB-BUB), The Reckless Season (The Spartanburg Little Theatre/HUB-BUB), Somewhere Safer (FringeNYC 2013, Inkwell finalist), and Blood Quantum (At Hand Theatre & WET Productions). Three of her short plays, jericho, jericho , Bob Baker’s End of the World and The Pirate King are published online at indietheaternow.com , where Somewhere Safer is also published as part of the 2013 Fringe Collection. She is a member of playwriting collective Lather, Rinse, Repeat, and studied playwriting, screenwriting and television writing at Primary Stages/ESPA. Lauren also has regional and NYC credits as an actress on stage and in film, and from 2007-2010 was co-artistic director of a site-specific classical theatre company, Rebellious Subjects Theatre. She especially enjoys acting in and teaching Shakespeare and working on new plays. She holds a BFA in drama from NYU’s Tisch School of the Arts. Website Lauren Ferebee About the Artist Artist in Residence 2016: Lauren Ferebee Part 2 Artist in Residence 2016: Lauren Ferebee Part 3 while in a foreign land Wonders of the Deep Artist in Residence 2016: Lauren Ferebee Lauren Ferebee Other Works By Follow the previous development of Lauren's 2016 Artist in Residence project by reading her second , third and final post. Related Information View More Art Make More Art View Full Written Work Close Loading Video . . . Download Full Written Work

Loading Video . . . I am extremely thankful for the great opportunity to be a part of the Spark & Echo Arts 2015 Artist in Residence program. I was approached by John and Emily after completing and exhibiting my film ‘When I Walk,’ which looks at my diagnosis with multiple sclerosis and the seven years after. The film goes through and explores the life cycles and challenges that I’ve had over the past seven years. Now, two years later, I am proposing a new project called ‘When We Walk.’ Find the complete progression of the work linked below. Romans 12:2 Artist in Residence 2015: Jason DaSilva Part 1 By Jason DaSilva Credits: Curated by: Spark & Echo Arts, Artist in Residence 2015 Primary Scripture Loading primary passage... Loading Passage Reference... Share This Art: Facebook X (Twitter) WhatsApp LinkedIn Pinterest Copy Link I am extremely thankful for the great opportunity to be a part of the Spark & Echo Arts 2015 Artist in Residence program. I was approached by John and Emily after completing and exhibiting my film ‘When I Walk,’ which looks at my diagnosis with multiple sclerosis and the seven years after. The film goes through and explores the life cycles and challenges that I’ve had over the past seven years. Now, two years later, I am proposing a new project called ‘When We Walk.’ It is almost as a follow-up to ‘When I Walk,’ but explores two significant differences. The first thing it looks at is my new relationship with being a father. A couple of years ago, my wife Alice and I had a boy named Jase. The film goes through and looks at my own mental changes and potential doubts of how I could be a father. The second aspect of the film looks at society and how accessibility is something that is critical to the participation of people with severe disabilities like myself. After ‘When I Walk’ was finished, my multiple sclerosis did not stop. It continued on and to this day, I am surprised at the new challenges that I have on a day-to-day basis. After the film finished, I continued not being able to walk and, more recently, I have lost use of much of my upper body and have slowly decreasing vision. These were not things that I expected with MS. ‘When We Walk’ will look at the intersection of these new aspects of my life and will reflect on my place in society today and how people with severe disabilities function in the world. The passage that I chose reflects the themes of the film. It is from the New Testament and still holds very relevant to my current life and to the stories and principles I’d like to pass on to others and Jase as he grows up — Romans 12:2: “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.” I’ve been shooting the film for two to three years now. I know this sounds like a lot, but in my films this is actually not that long. My films use a technique developed by early cinema called “cinema verite.” Other examples of cinema verite are the Maysles Brothers (‘Gray Gardens’) and more recently Laura Poitras (‘Citizen Four’). During the Fellowship, I will be working on this film and building the story structure, which I have not yet had the chance to do as I’ve been filming every aspect of my life with and without Jase! I thank Spark and Echo Arts again for this opportunity and I look forward to giving more updates in the future as the film progresses. For now, I’ve put up a simple website at www.whenwewalk.com and of course, please do follow the film on its Facebook page ( https://www.facebook.com/whenwewalkfilm ). Trailer for When I Walk Spark Notes The Artist's Reflection Jason DaSilva has been a prolific filmmaker for the past 10 years. He has directed four short films (OLIVIA’S PUZZLE, A SONG FOR DANIEL, TWINS OF MANKALA, and FIRST STEPS) and two feature-length documentary films (LEST WE FORGET and WHEN I WALK). Many of his films have won awards; OLIVIA’S PUZZLE premiered at the 2003 Sundance Festival and qualified for an Academy Award. Three of his films have had national broadcasts on PBS, HBO, and CBC. He also produced Shocking and Awful, a film installation on the anti-Iraq war movement, exhibited at the 2006 Whitney Biennial. Each one of these works advanced Jason’s objective to give voice to those on the periphery of society. In 2006 Jason took a short break from filmmaking to earn his MFA in Applied Media Arts from Emily Carr University. He recently produced and directed an Op-Doc (opinion documentary) for the New York Times called ‘The Long Wait,’ published in January 2013. DaSilva’s latest film, WHEN I WALK, was an Official Selection of the 2013 Sundance Film Festival and won Best Canadian Feature at HotDocs 2013. Following the film’s theatrical release this fall, it will air on POV on PBS in 2014. He currently lives and works in Brooklyn, New York. Interested in learning more about Jason’s creative process? Visit his website at: http://wheniwalk.com/ Website Jason DaSilva About the Artist Artist in Residence 2015: Jason DaSilva Part 3 Artist in Residence 2015: Jason DaSilva Part 2 Artist in Residence 2015: Jason DaSilva Jason DaSilva Other Works By To follow the development of his project as a 2015 Artist in Residence, read his second and third posts. Related Information View More Art Make More Art View Full Written Work Close Loading Video . . . Download Full Written Work

Ayakoyoshida The Earth Is Round No Matter What Happens Copy Loading Video . . . Textile artist Ayako Yoshida incorporates the visual aesthetic of Kabuki theatre and responds to the events of March 11, 2011 in her work's reflection on Psalm 46:2-3. Psalms 46:2-3 [the earth is round no matter what happens] By Ayako Yoshida Credits: Curated by: Rachel Carvosso 2015 Textiles Primary Scripture Loading primary passage... Loading Passage Reference... Share This Art: Facebook X (Twitter) WhatsApp LinkedIn Pinterest Copy Link Through discussion with the curator I chose this bible verse because it is about protection in the middle of great disaster. On March 11th 2011 Japan experienced a huge tsunami and earthquake; so this is an important theme for us. How can we be safe even if the world is breaking? The center of the image is the world, and it can also be viewed as a hat. I chose to use hat as a motif because, for me, the image of a hat evokes childhood memories of being protected from elements that can become harmful – for example sunlight or strong rain/wind. In Japan teachers train children to wear a hat to protect our heads when an earthquake occurs, so we are familiar with the hats. Japan is also known as the Land of the Rising sun, everyday we see the sun sinking to the other side of the sea. It is a rhythm and is something reliable – in the bible verse even if the physical world disappears there is something that remains. Spark Notes The Artist's Reflection Ayako Yoshida graduated from Tama Art University in 2012. As an emerging textile designer she has exhibited in a group show, Shinchou Art; was selected for the Aomori Triennale Print Prize in 2014; and is currently working as a textile maker. “My textile work/designs are inspired by the color of the Japanese Kabuki Theater, Ukiyoe prints and European Paintings and space. I make surface design and create two dimensional patterns/hangings that allow the viewer to see the space as if looking through a window. I want viewers to enjoy looking ‘into’ the work as if they are looking at another world.” 主なテーマは色彩と空間です。 世界にはたくさんの色があります。 日本の伝統的な歌舞伎や浮世絵に使われている色を見て作品を作ったり、 西洋のたくさんの画家の描いた絵からインスパイアされることもあります。 パターンを繰り返すことによって空間が現れます。 一枚の布を壁にかけた時にその布がまるで窓のようになる。 私たちは窓の向こう側を見ているような気分になる。 別世界をのぞいているような楽しい気分になるようデザインしています Website Ayako Yoshida About the Artist Ayako Yoshida Other Works By The first artist of the 2015 season, Ms. Yoshida is also the first artist of a three-part series featuring artists from Japan, selected by curator Rachel Carvosso. VIEW THE SECOND AND THIRD WORKS IN THIS SERIES: PARADISE BY SHINO YANAI AND HOPE BY SATSUKI ICHIKAWA. Ms. Carvosso also shares some thoughts on her process as a curator below: From the Curator: I have been intrigued and inspired by the illuminated manuscript concept of Spark+Echo Arts. Having lived in Japan for 10 years, I wanted to invite Japanese creatives into the process. With little general cultural saturation of biblical background and imagery I decided to connect to a more general relevant theme of finding hope within the brokenness. Japan was hugely affected by the events of March 11th. Fukushima and Tohoku in particular continue to be places where recovery in ongoing. How do artists respond in the aftermath and what does the Bible have to say about disaster, fear, suffering and hope? All three artists have considered their identity as “Japanese” artists post March 11th in addition to how the Bible could relate to God`s bridging of the gap created by brokenness and sin: what should be questioned and how hope can be found even in the middle of the most painful and confusing circumstances. Personally, each of the works in this series remind me of the Japanese tradition of Kintsukuroi (Kintsugi). In Kintsukuroi, broken pottery — rather than being discarded — is delicately restored, the cracks filled in with gold resulting in what was/is broken becoming more beautiful than before. I find that Japanese artists responding to the Bible through the prism of the disaster have significantly beautiful and important insights to share. Related Information View More Art Make More Art View Full Written Work Close Loading Video . . . Download Full Written Work

Loading Video . . . Is this the world's first pop song from the book of Deuteronomy? We aren't sure. Either way, we hope this starts a trend of hit music from this substantial book. It's a good way to let the words sink in to your heart, and that's what Moses is talking about, yes? Deuteronomy 32:45-47 Take to Heart By The Spark & Echo Band Credits: Written by Jonathon Roberts Performed by Jonathon Roberts (piano, vocals), Emily Clare Zempel (ukulele, vocals, bells), Mason Neely (drums), Jay Foote (bass) Mixed by Alex Foote Mastered by Matt Shane (Masterdisk) Artist Location: New York City Curated by: Spark+Echo Arts 2010 Primary Scripture Loading primary passage... Loading Passage Reference... Share This Art: Facebook X (Twitter) WhatsApp LinkedIn Pinterest Copy Link Is this the world's first pop song from the book of Deuteronomy? We aren't sure. Either way, we hope this starts a trend of hit music from this substantial book. It's a good way to let the words sink in to your heart, and that's what Moses is talking about, yes? Spark Notes The Artist's Reflection The Spark & Echo Band is a family outfit of songwriting-storytellers led by husband and wife duo Jonathon Roberts and Emily Clare Zempel. Their music brings forgotten poetry and wild stories from the Bible to life: visions of sparkling wheels in the sky, hunger and thirst, and legends of love as strong as death weave with memorable melodies and captivating rhythms. Drawing from a classical background, influenced by the pianism of Rufus Wainwright and Ben Folds, and emulating Paul Simon’s narratival techniques, Spark & Echo sings epic tales of love and adventure. The duo has collaborated on three full lengths albums (Spark&Echo, Inheritance, Cities Project), one video album (In the Clocktower), in addition to many theatrical collaborations, this very nonprofit, and two children. They live in beautiful Beacon, New York, with all of the above. Website The Spark & Echo Band About the Artist White Robe What a Day Deep Calls to Deep Yo Sé Do You Love Me? Where Can I Go? How to Be Free Flesh Lifeblood Artist in Residence 2015: Spark & Echo Band The Wheels Frogs Ruined Inheritance The Spark & Echo Band Other Works By Take to Heart Chorus: Take to Heart All these words I have solemnly declared Take to Heart All these words I have given you today Verse: So that you may command your children To obey all the words of the Law. (Chorus) They are not just idle words for you They are your life By them you will live long In the land, you’re crossing the river to hold They’re not just idle words They are your life (Chorus) Related Information View More Art Make More Art View Full Written Work Close Loading Video . . . Download Full Written Work