I have been thinking about my experience at the ‘Negative Space’ today. I am reminded of reading about the experiences of a reformed homosexual man. Convinced of a need to save souls, the man insisted upon returning to the homosexual community he once populated in order to carry the message of Christ. His efforts proved humiliating, causing him to fall into mortal sin. He became like those he sought to transform. Finally, a spiritual director scolded him harshly, informing him a great weapon of Satan is compassion. The desire to save others through one’s solitary efforts can be used to destroy the one attempting to do good. God must be the One carrying forth the message. The man was ordered to stay away from the community he once celebrated sin within for ‘their glory was his shame’. I considered such matters, while discerning the public reading of poetry. I have lost my thrill, determined to pray throughout the week on the matter. I do not go there to minister, not at all, yet the imploring of St Ligouri to flee from sin resonates. Jesus could dabble and mix amongst sinners, however we are not even close to the saints.  We, as sinners, must learn to flee from sinners.  I look myself in the mirror.  I discover fascination.  There is a radical element of the spiritual life I recognize within a mature artistic effort–a solitary effort of creativity proving profound. The artist becomes a creator.  Once moved beyond the realm of adolensce, the romantic, shallow and juvenile, passing through hard times, enduring financial insecurity, persevering in effort, discipline, and failure, able to establish an identity, everything is scary, yet authentic in developing strength and interior space. Few can pass through the test with sanity and integrity, remaining viable as an artist. Most fall hard and tragically.  I am convinced there are absolutly way too many individuals identifying themselves as artist and serious musicians. It is a definitive statement about the modern reality regarding the death of the adult. Individuals are just not maturing spiritually, emotionally, nor intellectually. I recall going through the 1929 high school yearbook of my ninety something Jewish Hospice patient. The students, especially the seniors, all appeared so grown up, true adults graduating from childhood, a view into the Great Generation.  The current turn of the century witnesses a scarcity of maturity, a lacking of individuals properly developing. The proliferation of those perceiving themselves to be brilliant artists coincides.   I recall a highly intelligent and talented artist and musician from Toledo, a man interesting with electronic skills, creating effects pedals and sound generating circuits, a master of musically macabre emanations. There was a disturbing and dark side to the wealthy spoiled child. He is now doing time for a bizarre hideous crime, unmentionable in depravity. The gifted young man of privileged upbringing allowed himself to slip into a deplorable state of sin. The whole time clinging to the idea of being a misunderstood genius. His self-identification as an artist proved his undoing. If called on with sincerity, I would support the young man.   Wandering and exploring where angels fear to tread is a dangerous life. I know for I have lived such a life during alcoholic times, the days of wine and roses. Gadi’s work disturbed visually at moments, a self-portrait of him seated on a throne of skulls, staff in hand, a serpent ring, a look of power and might. My thought was ‘No! my friend you mistook the glory of God within you as the grandeur of self. The grotesque images capture your filth, yet the majesty to transcend reposes with God, transformable through the death of Jesus, not in yourself.  In truth, you are powerless, not powerful. All true power rests in God ‘.  His hypnotizing depiction of his wife as a Hindu goddess dancing kept me spellbound, again serpents highlighting.  His work was all large, life sized or bigger, conducted on wood, the grain patterns creating depth. The young African-American refugee boy piece seen in the posted photo demonstrates the effect. Comprehending my deep faith, the artist led me to two hidden works, one a cross of railroad ties, surprisingly done with complete respect and admiration for the death of Jesus. Gadi is Jewish by birth. Atop the cross was a carved and painted face of Jesus. The eyes stuck out in uniqueness. Gadi told me they were nails, his Jesus was looking out through nails. He was proud of the statue, informing me of his admiration for the Catholic Church. He then led me to another room in ‘Negative Space’, a dark area, revealing to me his extensive woodwork and painting devoted to Mary. It was dark and difficult to establish detail. I am positive of his sincerity. There was no mocking of Our Holy Mother, however I will be honest. I could not make the effort of clearly observing the work. I did not focus my eyes.  I trusted in God and the artist, yet I did not want to take the chance of observing Mary not properly honored. My head really wants to return and do a reading. I enjoyed the married couple, reflecting upon a sense God guided me to ‘Negative Space’. I am thrilled with a full schedule of healthy mature Catholic fellowship for the coming week. Wednesday, I will provide treats for the ‘Arise’ gathering, purchasing of course from Casa Dolce. By the way, I spoke with the attractive young Italian woman responsible for the bakery displays. She thanked me for my desire to photograph her efforts. The visual presentation of excellence and beauty were important to her. She was formerly employed with the Cleveland Museum of Art, involved in setting up displays. I would also like to point out, in demonstration of healthy recovery, that I am assisting in organizing a presentation by the Hospice of the Western Reserve for the Franciscan third order associated with St Paul Shrine. It is exciting. And of course the bedside vigils are always anticipated, mystery surrounding occurrences.  The poetry reading possibility is situated amidst a healthy sober life.