Week 8

02.20.10 to 02.21.10

Evening

After being inspired last week at the Wiltern, I re-read Rob Bell’s coffee table art book, Drops like Stars, in thirty minutes flat while sweating on the treadmill taking “art in the agony” to new heights.

Let’s talk about where Bell begins: The Art of Disruption, the pinpoint upon which all best laid plans are disillusioned. Hmmm…. and, “Ah yes.”

But, then again, “No.”

Q: When is The Art of Disruption a good thing?

A: (hesitantly) Always. I think...

Tough theology surrounded by a holy host of white space: Drops Like Stars.

Sabbath fodder.

So I embraced the Art of Disruption, delighted in the fall of Plan A. I whipped up a pot of chicken soup, turned on the Winter Olympics, and enjoyed my family.

Morning

A mild cough is circulating the household, so we slept in this morning. But the rest of the day is a blur of errands—searching for the best deals on art supplies, Trader Joe’s, photocopies, bookstores, and fighting traffic. The city is lonely.

At the gym I dove into Leonard Cohen’s psalm-like Book of Mercy hoping for insight into the madness. “Blessed are you who has given each man a shield of loneliness so that he cannot forget you,” that’ll do.

Evening

Soup and the Olympics with my husband, my daughter, and my three sons: Sabbath.