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Overman & Senn
Almost surely, the first prayer was offered deep in the earth, by firelight, before an ochre outline of a buffalo. Painters have been priests ever since. This is not overstatement. Art is one of the last sources of wonder for modern people. I offer these paintings as windows onto something indefinable – a magical act of creation that can make the corner of a home into a refuge, a place of domestic pilgrimage. It’s the best thing I can do.
Number of posts: 16
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With the season upon us again my mind drifted back to my first year of NFL football. I had just arrived in New York and settled into a walk-up apartment in Brooklyn. After finding a job and a place to live I decided to watch this new game. I didn’t have television so went to the Irish bar below the apartment to watch the away games. Home games were blacked out in the New York area. The Irish bartenders couldn’t explain the game to me as they only had been in Brooklyn for two years. They too were puzzled why gro Read on →
"A new mentality is needed, and this implies above all a recovery of ancient and original wisdom. And a real contact with what is right under our noses." -- Thomas Merton, in a letter to Thich Nhat Hanh On Thursday, September 24, I saw Pope Francis with my own eyes. That's the gospel truth. Now the confession. I was attending the Interfaith Moral Action on Climate rally -- organized to support the Pope's call to action on climate change. That's me on the right of the photo. That's Doug, my Buddhist friend and climate troubadour, on the left. Attendees watched the Pope's historic Read on →
Talk about coincidence, I was thinking just the other day how popular song lyrics have changed over the years – and not for the better, I fear – when I stumbled into an odd kind of research online that supported my suspicion and set me to thinking about language in general. The research. Believe it or not, somebody has gone to the trouble – brace yourself – to count the words that have shown up most often in popular songs in every decade since the 1890s! And if you thought song lyrics were getting cleaner and classier, move to the rear of the Read on →
My eyes are super-sensitive, as I discovered fifty years ago when, walking on a gusty day on an unfamiliar city street, a piece of grit flew into my eye. I was in instant agony: blinking, holding the eyelid, eye watering and conscious of time changing. Seconds became nanoseconds of excruciation. I looked around with the good eye for help. In one of the most fortuitous coincidences of my life I was passing an optician’s shop. I opened the door, stood on the threshold blinking, eye streaming uncontrollably. The optician guided me to a chair. His chosen instrument, the corner of a Read on →