I am stilled. This process of transfer has been already a very intimate and beautiful experience with Our Lady, and bringing newness to her presence here, now.
High on the wall in my dining room, next to my song birds and my first icon of St. Paul that interestingly enough, looks at her from an adjacent wall.
So interesting how the simple fluid act of taking pencil to paper can be a total education in meaning and purpose to image--every fold, ray, shadow, formation, emotive shift of bodily gesture has specific purpose. So concrete, yet so subtle.
And harder than I thought with the difficulties of photo clarity to even see what is before me,
and my back which was severely pulled which physically makes it a harder challenge
(not to mention my dear smallest children who think jumping on the floorboards is funny so they can see Mary dance)--but slowly she emerges.
As the hand travels and sculpts this form I know that I am nothing, that I am ignorant, that I am poor, that I am simple, that I am still being formed in this iconographic journey, and am perhaps overstepping my place:
I am no master.
And I hear my earthly master and teacher dear Ksenia saying to me:
"How can you expect to play Mozart or Chopin when you are still practicing the scales?"
Am I the disobedient student to my mentor who is slowly, steadily building a strong foundation?
But here I have to pause. No. This is not personal ambition, this is a long-standing deep-seated desire.
Ever since I entered into iconography moving on five years of study now, this project has been with me. There is not a single Sunday nor trip to St. Bernard's that I don't see her there in my visualized eye, and she hovers continually in the projected possibility of being realized, should I be able to fulfill this undertaking.
I am certain Our Lady can help me to learn as well, and teach me in humility to serve her through my brush, my hand, and take this on as a special formative theological and technical lesson to experience.
Perhaps in the action of that fulfillment, I will be able to remain faithful to the Holy Spirit and unfurl substantial growth from the seeds that have been planted in my journey as an iconographer as a gift to lay at the feet of Mary, to the Church, to her people, and ultimately to the One whom she bears, Christ himself.
The urgency of hastening to this call is peaking.
The pencil in hand does me good.
Our Lady painted that tilma of Juan Diego's herself.
In our sharing of the beauty of motherhood, it is right and good to be here now in this moment.
Yes.
Please pray for my efforts.
May they bear fruit,
and may Mary dance.
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