portrait of Obama by Kin Gledhill.... Brazil
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Monday, November 3, 2008
Remember to Vote! (Obama 08) The Change We Need!
Requiem of a Nation
Artist: Luiz Coelho, October 2008
Water Color on paper
Available for purchase. $500 email me for information or visit him
here
St. Martin de Porres
Not to hurt our humble brethren (the animals)
Is our first duty to them, but to stop there is not enough.
We have a higher mission:
To be of service to them whenever they require it.
St. Francis
Most glorious Martin de Porres,
whose burning charity embraced not only the needy brothers and sisters,
but also the very animals of the field,
splendid example of charity,
we hail thee and invoke thee!
From that high throne which thou dost occupy,
deign to listen to the supplications of thy needy brothers and sisters that,
by imitating thy virtues,
we may live contented in that state in which God has placed us
and carrying with strength and courage our cross,
we may follow in the footsteps of Our Blessed Redeemer
and His most afflicted Mother,
that at last we may reach the Kingdom of Heaven
through the merits of Our Lord Jesus Christ.
Amen.
Altar del Dia de los Muertos
The altar in Prince of Peace Chapel at the University of Mary Washington's Canterbury House, Fredericksburg, VA. trasformed for the Day of the Dead.
Saturday, November 1, 2008
All Saints Poem
All Saints’ Day
John Keble
Hurt not the earth, neither the sea, nor the trees, till we
have sealed the servants of our God in their foreheads.
Revelation vii. 3.
Why blow’st thou not, thou wintry wind,
Now every leaf is brown and sere,
And idly droops, to thee resigned,
The fading chaplet of the year?
Yet wears the pure aerial sky
Her summer veil, half drawn on high,
Of silvery haze, and dark and still
The shadows sleep on every slanting hill.
How quiet shows the woodland scene!
Each flower and tree, its duty done,
Reposing in decay serene,
Like weary men when age is won,
Such calm old age as conscience pure
And self-commanding hearts ensure,
Waiting their summons to the sky,
Content to live, but not afraid to die.
Sure if our eyes were purged to trace
God’s unseen armies hovering round,
We should behold by angels’ grace
The four strong winds of Heaven fast bound,
Their downward sweep a moment stayed
On ocean cove and forest glade,
Till the last flower of autumn shed
Her funeral odours on her dying bed.
So in Thine awful armoury, Lord,
The lightnings of the judgment-day
Pause yet awhile, in mercy stored,
Till willing hearts wear quite away
Their earthly stains; and spotless shine
On every brow in light divine
The Cross by angel hands impressed,
The seal of glory won and pledge of promised
Little they dream, those haughty souls
Whom empires own with bended knee,
What lowly fate their own controls,
Together linked by Heaven’s decree;—
As bloodhounds hush their baying wild
To wanton with some fearless child,
So Famine waits, and War with greedy eyes,
Till some repenting heart be ready for the skies.
Think ye the spires that glow so bright
In front of yonder setting sun,
Stand by their own unshaken might?
No—where th’ upholding grace is won,
We dare not ask, nor Heaven would tell,
But sure from many a hidden dell,
From many a rural nook unthought of there,
Rises for that proud world the saints’ prevailing prayer.
On, Champions blest, in Jesus’ name,
Short be your strife, your triumph full,
Till every heart have caught your flame,
And, lightened of the world’s misrule,
Ye soar those elder saints to meet
Gathered long since at Jesus’ feet,
No world of passions to destroy,
Your prayers and struggles o’er, your task all praise and joy.
from The Christian Year, 1887
John Keble
Hurt not the earth, neither the sea, nor the trees, till we
have sealed the servants of our God in their foreheads.
Revelation vii. 3.
Why blow’st thou not, thou wintry wind,
Now every leaf is brown and sere,
And idly droops, to thee resigned,
The fading chaplet of the year?
Yet wears the pure aerial sky
Her summer veil, half drawn on high,
Of silvery haze, and dark and still
The shadows sleep on every slanting hill.
How quiet shows the woodland scene!
Each flower and tree, its duty done,
Reposing in decay serene,
Like weary men when age is won,
Such calm old age as conscience pure
And self-commanding hearts ensure,
Waiting their summons to the sky,
Content to live, but not afraid to die.
Sure if our eyes were purged to trace
God’s unseen armies hovering round,
We should behold by angels’ grace
The four strong winds of Heaven fast bound,
Their downward sweep a moment stayed
On ocean cove and forest glade,
Till the last flower of autumn shed
Her funeral odours on her dying bed.
So in Thine awful armoury, Lord,
The lightnings of the judgment-day
Pause yet awhile, in mercy stored,
Till willing hearts wear quite away
Their earthly stains; and spotless shine
On every brow in light divine
The Cross by angel hands impressed,
The seal of glory won and pledge of promised
Little they dream, those haughty souls
Whom empires own with bended knee,
What lowly fate their own controls,
Together linked by Heaven’s decree;—
As bloodhounds hush their baying wild
To wanton with some fearless child,
So Famine waits, and War with greedy eyes,
Till some repenting heart be ready for the skies.
Think ye the spires that glow so bright
In front of yonder setting sun,
Stand by their own unshaken might?
No—where th’ upholding grace is won,
We dare not ask, nor Heaven would tell,
But sure from many a hidden dell,
From many a rural nook unthought of there,
Rises for that proud world the saints’ prevailing prayer.
On, Champions blest, in Jesus’ name,
Short be your strife, your triumph full,
Till every heart have caught your flame,
And, lightened of the world’s misrule,
Ye soar those elder saints to meet
Gathered long since at Jesus’ feet,
No world of passions to destroy,
Your prayers and struggles o’er, your task all praise and joy.
from The Christian Year, 1887
Tapestry of the Communion of Saints- Cathedral of Our Lady of the Angels
Communion of Saints Tapestries
The tapestries created by artist John Nava for the Cathedral of Our Lady of the Angels are the largest collection hanging in a Catholic place of worship in the United States. Throughout the ages, large scale pictorial wall cycles have served as one of the most effective forms of literary expression, vividly telling the stories of the Greeks, Romans, Medieval and Renaissance periods, especially to a largely illiterate population. (from thew cathedral website. Check it out)
Blessed Feast of All Saints
Apparition de l'Eglise éternelle- Olivier Messiaen
Apparition of the Eternal Church
Te Deum- John Rutter
Sine Nomine- Ralph Vaughn Williams
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