The Twenty-Seventh Spittle: The Confessional
September 19th, 2008
“The Forgiven”
26.5″ diameter
acrylic on wood
Sometimes I get nervous to open the door because I suspect He’s in there.
He has probably spent the night lurking about being the amateur critic snorting nay or yea, while always maintaining that critical eye.
Sometimes Is Always,
and as I walked into my studio, there in the center of the room, stood a wooden construction resembling my impressions of what a confessional would look like: a small wooden structure just big enough for two people divided by a golden lattice.
“What the hell is going on?” I muttered, suspecting that my morning was about to become less than amusing. I slowly walked around it once before entering the right hand side then sat down on a very uneven hard wooden chair.
Dear Sweet Lord, I know the Maestro to be creative, but this seemed a bit much I was thinking when that voice spoke penetrating the golden lattice into the center of my amazement, “Have you sinned?” Before I could answer, He added, “And what kind of sins?” Without a thought left I blurted, “Ordinary sins, quite ordinary sins.” “What is an ordinary sin?” He asked. Before thinking I quietly answered, “Sins you commit everyday my cloaked friend. Sins are more frequent to most than the virtuous acts we enjoy others doing. Think of your life and than look into my face and you will see yourself. So stop this sacred interrogation and give me my studio back Mr. Spittle. The world is blameless and we are a small part of that picture so relax and enjoy some TV.”
The spiritual assemblage gracefully took itself apart much to my astonishment and then laid itself against the wall as if to say, “Use me to paint on my small fragment. Build a stretcher bar from my body. Find the good in all the bad through my spirit and I will forever Bless your labor.”
“The Wounded Swan”
12×12″
mixed media