By Leo Boucher. Used with permission; all rights reserved.
Watercolor Wednesday is back!
Today I’m thinking about farms, especially those in Minnesota and Iowa, as my parents were both raised on them in these states. I appreciate their work ethic which developed over many years of doing daily chores – the cows simply had to be milked and fed every day.
How does a daily discipline inform your life? Do you have daily habits that you embrace – not only brushing your teeth and bathing (I hope), but daily rhythms of delight, such as going for a walk or listening to music?
By Leo Boucher. Used with permission; all rights reserved.
You know the excitement of opening the door to big bunch of gorgeousness in the form of flowers? Yes, it’s better when it’s a surprise and you eagerly search out the card, wondering who sent them. But I’ve managed to be surprised in a minor sort of way when I’ve received the flowers I’ve ordered with some birthday money, for I forget exactly when I have arranged for them to come. That rush of excitement still surprises me.
I’m enjoying the scent of lilies in my study from my latest delivery,* and today my dad sent across this painting from some flowers my mom got for them. Lovely synergy.
When I think of lilies in the Bible, I immediately think of Jesus telling his friends not to worry:
Then Jesus said to his disciples: “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat; or about your body, what you will wear. For life is more than food, and the body more than clothes. Consider the ravens: They do not sow or reap, they have no storeroom or barn; yet God feeds them. And how much more valuable you are than birds! Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to your life? Since you cannot do this very little thing, why do you worry about the rest?
“Consider how the wild flowers grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these.If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today, and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, how much more will he clothe you—you of little faith!” (Luke 12:22–28, NIV)
Don’t worry about your life, Jesus says. If God decorates the grass of the field with these gorgeous and fragrant flowers, how much more does he care for us. That’s a reminder I’ve needed today—even though it took me two lily appearances to realize it!
How about you? Might you consider taking a moment to read through Jesus’ words and personalize them, as if he was talking to you?
* I have some half-price codes for Freddie’s Flowers if you are in the UK and are interested. You have to sign up but can cancel at any time.
By Leo Boucher. Used with permission; all rights reserved.
Spring is in the air—although here in Britain it’s felt like a Fool’s Spring at times, with cold winds whipping through us while we go out for our daily walk. Yet the flowers are blooming all around, and from my study window I can see a group of daffodils swaying in the breeze. Beauty is there for us to see when we slow down and take it in.
May you experience beauty today, in whatever form you find it.
By Leo Boucher. Used with permission; all rights reserved.
Snow on Sunday, a new painting on Wednesday! I love my dad’s rendition of the snowy brook, the photo of which I took at the weekend, with its stark and vibrant colors.
Take a moment to walk along the gurgling waters as you feel glops of snow dropping off the trees while carefully picking your way along the icy path.
By Leo Boucher. Used with permission; all rights reserved.
Churches are going through a strange and different time during the coronavirus pandemic, aren’t they. Services moved to Zoom, Facebook live, and YouTube during lockdown, and then over the summer we got to meet again in person – spread out, masked, keeping distant. But still meeting together.
This second lockdown in England has been tough with the church closed. Services can be broadcast from there, but no congregation. Yes, the church is still open in the sense that we’re meeting together virtually. But meeting in-person really is better, isn’t it.
How has your view of church (or Church) morphed and changed during the pandemic?
By Leo Boucher. Used with permission; all rights reserved.
My dad has entitled this painting, “Finding Peace with Jesus through Prayer.” We so often find peace when we’re out in nature, don’t we. There’s something about being able to exhale in God’s creation that helps take us out of ourselves and our concerns as we look up to God and ponder the needs of others.
We might feel as though we’re in a tough time – the deciduous tree might be in hibernation, as in this picture. But God will meet us through his Son and bring color into our lives. He will spring forth with new life after the time of being fallow.
Know that God is on your side, whether you’re in a time of celebration and rejoicing or you are slogging ahead, one step after the other. If you can, dedicate some moments to finding Jesus through prayer.
By Leo Boucher. Used with permission; all rights reserved.
This painting no longer exists – my dad painted it over, saying it was such a nice big canvas (it’s rather large). I rather like it, but I always enjoy his more abstract works and love a nice cityscape.
So is this still art? What is art if it’s disposable? A friend posed a provocative question along these lines in a writers group I’m part of, along with this fascinating video: “Is art meant to be consumed or preserved? (Or is it/can it be both? How?)”
My dad’s been out in his art studio lots these days as he’s creating paintings for our Christmas book (Celebrating Christmas, coming autumn 2021). This is one of his more abstract ones that we’re not including, but I love it all the same.
The theme is the Incarnation, God with us, and the mystery of how we receive what’s known as the Real Presence when we receive Holy Communion (or Eucharist). Christ’s body, broken for you; Christ’s blood, shed for you. We receive the gifts of God to be equipped, bolstered, strengthened, and encouraged for our daily lives.
By Leo Boucher. Used with permission; all rights reserved.
When you’re in the midst of a creative project, do you know when to press pause or to stop?
Today my dad and I had a zoom call with our publisher on Celebrating Christmas, the book of art and reflections that we’ll be releasing for Christmas 2021. Dad was saying how in creating paintings he has to know when to stop – when to stop fiddling and adding and tweaking and let the piece be.
That can be true with writing too; writers and editors can so overwork something that the heart and soul of it seeps out. But I wonder if that stage comes later in a written piece than with the medium of paint. After all, good writing is rewriting and it takes a lot to get to the point of losing the passion.
What do think?
In terms of this fantastic painting, I think my dad has got it just right! He captures my nearby brook so well, and I love his abstract take on it.
By Leo Boucher. Used with permission; all rights reserved.
I’m missing fall in the States this year; the photographs from the upper Midwest in particular are lovely with the bright splodges of red, orange, and yellow. I don’t know that I would have gone back, but knowing that it wasn’t even a possibility makes the longings a bit stronger.
I love this cheerful painting of my dad’s. It has a feel of nostalgia, when Main Street was booming and people were civil to each other. I’m saying a prayer that some of that civility could return.
