Painting
Painting is the practice of applying paint, pigment, color or other medium to a surface (support base). The medium is commonly applied to the base with a brush but other implements, such as knives, sponges, and airbrushes, can be used. In art, the term painting describes both the act and the result of the action. Paintings may have for their support such surfaces as walls, paper,canvas, wood, glass, lacquer, clay, leaf, copper or concrete, and may incorporate multiple other materials including sand, clay, paper, gold leaf as well as objects. The term painting is also used outside of art as a common trade among craftsmen and builders. Painting is a mode of creative expression, and the forms are numerous. Drawing, composition or abstraction, among other aesthetics, may serve to manifest the expressive and conceptual intention of the practitioner. Paintings can be naturalistic and representational (as in a still life or landscape painting), photographic, abstract, be loaded with narrative content, symbolism, emotion or be political in nature. A portion of the history of painting in both Eastern and Western art is dominated by spiritual motifs and ideas; examples of this kind of painting range from artwork depicting mythological figures on pottery to Biblical scenes rendered on the interior walls and ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, to scenes from the life of Buddha or other images of eastern religious origin. Intensity[edit]What enables painting is the perception and representation of intensity. Every point in space has different intensity, which can be represented in painting by black and white and all the gray shades between. In practice, painters can articulate shapes by juxtaposing surfaces of different intensity; by using just color (of the same intensity) one can only represent symbolic shapes. Thus, the basic means of painting are distinct from ideological means, such as geometrical figures, various points of view and organization (perspective), and symbols. For example, a painter perceives that a particular white wall has different intensity at each point, due to shades and reflections from nearby objects, but ideally, a white wall is still a white wall in pitch darkness. In technical drawing, thickness of line is also ideal, demarcating ideal outlines of an object within a perceptual frame different from the one used by painters. Intensity What enables painting is the perception and representation of intensity. Every point in space has different intensity, which can be represented in painting by black and white and all the gray shades between. In practice, painters can articulate shapes by juxtaposing surfaces of different intensity; by using just color (of the same intensity) one can only represent symbolic shapes. Thus, the basic means of painting are distinct from ideological means, such as geometrical figures, various points of view and organization (perspective), and symbols. For example, a painter perceives that a particular white wall has different intensity at each point, due to shades and reflections from nearby objects, but ideally, a white wall is still a white wall in pitch darkness. In technical drawing, thickness of line is also ideal, demarcating ideal outlines of an object within a perceptual frame different from the one used by painters. Color and tone Color and tone are the essence of painting as pitch and rhythm are of music. Color is highly subjective, but has observable psychological effects, although these can differ from one culture to the next. Black is associated with mourning in the West, but in the East, white is. Some painters, theoreticians, writers and scientists, including Goethe, Kandinsky, and Newton, have written their own color theory. Moreover the use of language is only an abstraction for a color equivalent. The word "red", for example, can cover a wide range of variations on the pure red of the visible spectrum of light. There is not a formalized register of different colors in the way that there is agreement on different notes in music, such as C or C♯ in music. For a painter, color is not simply divided into basic and derived (complementary or mixed) colors (like red, blue, green, brown, etc.). Painters deal practically with pigments, so "blue" for a painter can be any of the blues: phthalocyan, Paris blue, indigo, cobalt, ultramarine, and so on. Psychological, symbolical meanings of color are not strictly speaking means of painting. Colors only add to the potential, derived context of meanings, and because of this the perception of a painting is highly subjective. The analogy with music is quite clear—sound in music (like "C") is analogous to light in painting, "shades" to dynamics, and coloration is to painting as specific timbre of musical instruments to music—though these do not necessarily form a melody, but can add different contexts to it. The Hands Resist Him The Hands Resist Him is a painting created by Oakland, California artist Bill Stoneham in 1972. It depicts a young boy and female doll standing in front of a glass paneled door against which many hands are pressed. According to the artist, the boy is based on a photograph of himself at age five, the doorway is a representation of the dividing line between the waking world and the world of fantasy and impossibilities, while the doll is a guide that will escort the boy through it. The titular hands represent alternate lives or possibilities.The painting became the subject of an urban legend and a viral internet meme in February 2000 when it was posted for sale on eBay along with an elaborate backstory implying that it was haunted. |
Paintings in the Story
"Do you remember the painting we saw in the Town Hall a few years ago? It was a view of Delft, from the Rotterdam and Schiedam Gates. With the sky that took up so much of the painting, and the sunlight on some of the buildings." "And the paint had sand in it to make the brickwork and the roofs look rough. And there were long shadows in the water, and tiny people on the shore nearest us." "That's the one." I remembered it well, remembered thinking that I had stood at that very spot many times and never seen Delft the way the painter had. "When you look at her cap long enough, you see that he has not really painted it white, but blue, and violet, and yellow." "But it's a white cap, you said." "Yes, that's what is so strange. It's painted many colors, but when you look at it, you think it's white." "Lick your lips, Griet." I licked my lips. "Leave your mouth open." I was so surprised by this request that my mouth remained open of its own will. I blinked back tears. Virtuous women did not open their mouths in paintings. New paintings in the series An individual who saw the story about the original painting contacted Stoneham about commissioning a sequel to the painting.Stoneham accepted and painted a sequel called Resistance at the Threshold.The sequel depicts the same characters 40+ years later in the same style as the original. A second sequel, Threshold of Revelation, was completed in 2012 and can be seen on Stoneham's website |
Fundie, Hater, /r/Christianity, Anglican: the story behind my recent flair change!!!!
GUYS, sorry this is so long. I just want to get it out there because, frankly, I’ve finally managed to compose something half-legible about some issues I’ve been tackling for the past half a year or so. Seeing as you guys tend to be pretty swell and I’ve finally reached a conclusion on the matter… Well, you all get to hear a pretty damn improbable story.
Do you ever see a person, type of person, or particular groups of people and say to yourself, “I will never be like that.” Swear it up and down with everything that makes sense to you? I definitely did more than my fair share of this, and it’s pretty ironic now that I’m writing a story like this at all.
I grew up in a self-professed “evangelical” church. Early years pretty average, I suppose. Going to the nursery and singing “Jesus Loves Me”, having an overall happy time. I should say now that this story, in NO way, is meant to reflect on my grandfather (minister of said church). He is genuinely a man so interesting and extraordinary that I can only hope to do as much as he’s done. This story isn’t about his sermons, or the theology he presented, but the actions of the “evangelical” community.
As I got older the conversation in Sunday school began to turn away from singing “Get Down Outta That Sycamore Tree” and onto the topic of being a “witnessing”. Frankly, the requirements seemed a bit strenuous for 8-year-old me. I mean, who wants to carry their new “TeEn StUdY Bible” (which, by the way, would never be opened) on top of their schoolbooks? It’s SO heavy. And why would somebody want to walk around the lunch tables and tell people they need to believe in God? That’s just awkward. Yet, time and time again, kids would tell stories about how they did just that. Kids who, at least from what I saw, definitely did NOT do that.
Call it my first introduction to the concept of herd mentality and/or lying by peer pressure.
The older you get, the weirder it becomes. Dinosaurs? Obviously lies. Evolution? I didn’t come from no dadgum monkey ape. Space? The biggest lie ever. The mentality starts to evolve, and 12-year-old me becomes so terribly worried about all those people who believe in dinosaurs going straight to hell. But wait… I liked “Jurassic Park”! AND “Harry Potter”! Surely that’s alright though, right? Wrong. To quote the teacher I asked one Sunday morning, “That stuff is straight from the fire of hell, and you better not watch it or you’ll wind up there”. Not exaggerating a bit.
So you might be able to see where I was going?
Yes, puberty-ridden 13-year-old me became the star WITNESS of my school. Totally unread TeEn StUdY bIbLe on top of my schoolbooks. Calling out my science teacher on evolution (pretty sure I even gave a speech in the middle of class). Telling a friend of mine with a lesbian mother that, surprise, she was goin’ straight to HELL. I was a miniature Jerry Falwell on an evangelical tirade. I had to GET SAVED and get dunked (three times forward, none of that sprinklin’ nonsense). Some of you may have been unlucky enough to encounter this particular williamthefloydian.
Then, it all comes crashing down. It wasn’t anything I’d read or some influence, it was simply a sudden thought in my head: “Why?” I honestly remember it clear as day, sitting in 9th grade PE class. I asked myself why was Harry Potter the devil? Why is evolution a lie? Why is everybody except the people I know going to hell?
Asking question like this in an evangelical setting is not well looked upon. Long story short, I did what Edmund Burke would call an “extreme-to-extreme”. In a few months I went from fundamentalist evangelical to the poster child of the new breed of “atheism”, which is frankly just angry anti-theism disguising itself as genuine atheism. The bible on my books got replaced with copies of “The God Delusion” by Dawkins and “God is Not Great” by Hitchens (the latter of which is, to be quite honest, a pretty good book). My conversations, for awhile, seemed to steer towards making fun of those people stupid enough to believe that stuff.
Then, I finally managed to mellow out. I threw around plenty of big words to describe my beliefs: agnostic, deist, occasional pantheist, “spiruitual” (my favorite, due to the extreme ambiguity). But it’s not like I actually cared. It was just a more mellow brand of anti-theism. I rolled with that for awhile. And, yeah, plenty of unrelated stuff happened in the period between ~2008-2011. But the biggest change to my mentality really came when discussing world religions in Geography class. I decided that, if I was going to disagree with people, I’d better know what they believed.
Frankly, I think that thought is one of the better things to ever happen to me. I’ve had the privilege to read and think about some extraordinary works. The Qur’an, The Book of Mormon, Dianetics, The Baghavad Gita, the Satanic Bible, The Book of the Dead, Jewish myths that didn’t make it into the Torah. Some of these I read more recently than others, but I really have read them all. It’s an accomplishment I’m proud of, honestly. Notice, however, I’d never read the Bible. Like most people who have no idea what the Bible is made up of, I always started in Genesis and always got bored somewhere in Exodus. My knowledge of Jesus consisted solely of popular culture references, grandpa’s sermons, and occasional Bible flipping though a KJV so archaic it was like Greek to me (hehehehe).
It’s during my reading of a lot of these texts, along with a good group of friends in which you could discuss the philosophic without sounding like a prude, I began to comprehend the concept of a force bigger than myself, greater than the universe itself. Frankly, it was comprehension of a concept I’d never thought about before. I’d never really thought about the concept of a god, and in my WITNESSIN’ days I just kind of assumed nobody did. You just did your thing and assumed god was there doing… god stuff.
First year of college comes and goes in regards to this story, though I’m lucky enough to meet some great people who are just as willing to discuss topics like this. I think the real point at which the events of the last half-year begin is around the middle of this previous fall semester. This base philosophy of a higher power is, frankly, unshakable from my thoughts when reading or discussing philosophy or theology. I read a lot on the subject. Richard Dawins, Sam Harris, NT Wright, CS Lewis, Rowan Williams, and a plethora of others. I’m drawn between two camps that I consider totally incomparable: the harsh realism of the purely scientific camp and the emotional faith of the purely theological camp.
THEN, as is typical for him, CS Lewis comes to the rescue. He has a certain grace about explaining his concept of higher power in terms that don’t negate the scientific. Frankly, CS Lewis made me a theist. Obviously a lot more than that went into it, but to write down everything is as impossible as me trying to remember it.
So I went on a private adventure, which some of you know about. I’d think in terms of different religions for a week or so at a time, attend one of their services if they were near. I thought Jewishly for a time, reading some of the Torah and even going to the Synagogue in Blacksburg. I thought Islamicly, reading the Qur’an and establishing a regular schedule to meditate (since I didn’t think prayer was necessarily appropriate, being non-Muslim). I thought Zen Buddhistly, practicing some yoga and attempting some hardcore meditation and reflection on zen works (which, to be honest, I still do a bit of because it’s pretty legit). Then came time to act Christianly, and I realized I had zero idea what to do.
My evangelical upbringing failed me. It established no solid faith, it gave me no sound advice, and it skewered my view of Christianity so completely that I couldn’t even figure out what it meant to act Christianly.
I decided that the only way to solve this, truly, was to attend a multitude of services and soak in the attitudes. And, boy, did I get some attitudes. I went to Presbyterian churches so elderly you could hear a pin drop from China. Baptist churches so wary of newcomers that they would move in droves to avoid me. “Independent” churches so pumped full of adrenaline that my existence was never acknowledged save for a card in the pew asking for my information.
So, I thought, THIS is exactly what I thought it would be.
I held off my adventure for awhile over winter break. When I came back to my apartment I decided to give a few more places a try. At the same time, I decided that if I was going to make a decision on the merit of Christianity I at least needed to finally read the source material. I eventually wound up getting a copy of the Oxford Revised English Study Bible w/Apocrypha, pretty much on a whim (since it was modern, study-oriented, and included the Apocrypha). Hypothetically, if you’re inclined to believe in divine intervention, this is certainly a case for it. Here’s a book filled with notes and references so dense they can fill up half the page. The entire first 1/5 of it is nothing but scholarly articles on Biblical topics. I bought the primo secular Bible and it was probably one of the better things to happen in this adventure.
With the extreme help of /r/Christianity for theological discussion I began an adventure through the prime points of Christian faith, the four gospels. Here’s this guy, this Jesus fella, saying what might seem to be, at times, the most basic of things. And, yet, it’s magnanimous in its effect. It resonates, frankly, to the very core of everything that makes me human. it is shocking in its simplicity and extraordinary in its humbleness. It is the antithesis of everything I grew to believe it was.
True story, the first gospel I read (out of recommendation) was St. John. The theologically-inclined will know that this gospel is separate from the other three in its subject matter. It is far more ethereal and spiritual in nature, universal in its subject. And, oh man, did that ever resonate with me. I had managed to read it in an evening, and after finishing it the only thing I could really do was sit in my chair and say, “well… shit.”
It’s about mid-January at this point, and I’m completely questioning the concepts I’ve believed and disbelieved. It’s not necessarily the work itself, either. The Qur’an was beautiful, the Bagavad Gita ethereal, but it was more. Honestly, it took extra-biblical material to take away doubt of error from my mind. Kind of funny, considering evangelicals are all about that NOTHING BUT THE BIBLE EVER mentality.
Tactius’ Annals, the Talmud, Josephus’ Antiquities, Mara Bar-Serapion’s letter, or Justin Martyr in his Dialogue with Trypho all talk about, historically, situations presented. The life of Christ, Pilate, his execution and subsequent disappearance and reappearance. Honestly, this could go on for hours. I could list a million conclusions I’ve attempted to figure and have come to. I could just as equally list the multitude of doubt that still plagues a concept such as this.
Sometime near the end of January my adventure took me to The Episcopal Church. I was familiar with Anglicanism roughly, Elizabeth I and Henry VIII and all that good stuff, but not really with the practice. I found a richness of theology, a group of people as open to discussion as I was, and experienced a moment (or a few) where I finally sensed that I could overcome the preconceived notions that had been in my head since childhood. I found a catechism that followed my own lines of thought, and history that merited a welcoming of all. I found an end to my years and years of confused exploration when, after a few visits and plenty of reading and meditation, I was able to truthfully profess an acceptance and belief of the words, meaning, and magnanimity behind the Nicene Creed.
Like CS Lewis, a favorite of mine, I am more than aware of the many rational arguments against my conclusion. I’ve also used plenty of them in the past. But, like Lewis, I believe I posses that dual mentality, having been both a disbeliever and a believer. As weird as it may sound, of all things I could be grateful for one of the highest on the list is my sudden loss of unbacked and fruitless faith and the slow, sometimes painful steeping of a rich belief. Frankly, I’m probably still as shocked as you are.
But I’m being confirmed in the Episcopal Church this November 1, All Saints Day at my All Saints parish. It just feels good to get a story I’ve been building up for 20 years out in the open.
GUYS, sorry this is so long. I just want to get it out there because, frankly, I’ve finally managed to compose something half-legible about some issues I’ve been tackling for the past half a year or so. Seeing as you guys tend to be pretty swell and I’ve finally reached a conclusion on the matter… Well, you all get to hear a pretty damn improbable story.
Do you ever see a person, type of person, or particular groups of people and say to yourself, “I will never be like that.” Swear it up and down with everything that makes sense to you? I definitely did more than my fair share of this, and it’s pretty ironic now that I’m writing a story like this at all.
I grew up in a self-professed “evangelical” church. Early years pretty average, I suppose. Going to the nursery and singing “Jesus Loves Me”, having an overall happy time. I should say now that this story, in NO way, is meant to reflect on my grandfather (minister of said church). He is genuinely a man so interesting and extraordinary that I can only hope to do as much as he’s done. This story isn’t about his sermons, or the theology he presented, but the actions of the “evangelical” community.
As I got older the conversation in Sunday school began to turn away from singing “Get Down Outta That Sycamore Tree” and onto the topic of being a “witnessing”. Frankly, the requirements seemed a bit strenuous for 8-year-old me. I mean, who wants to carry their new “TeEn StUdY Bible” (which, by the way, would never be opened) on top of their schoolbooks? It’s SO heavy. And why would somebody want to walk around the lunch tables and tell people they need to believe in God? That’s just awkward. Yet, time and time again, kids would tell stories about how they did just that. Kids who, at least from what I saw, definitely did NOT do that.
Call it my first introduction to the concept of herd mentality and/or lying by peer pressure.
The older you get, the weirder it becomes. Dinosaurs? Obviously lies. Evolution? I didn’t come from no dadgum monkey ape. Space? The biggest lie ever. The mentality starts to evolve, and 12-year-old me becomes so terribly worried about all those people who believe in dinosaurs going straight to hell. But wait… I liked “Jurassic Park”! AND “Harry Potter”! Surely that’s alright though, right? Wrong. To quote the teacher I asked one Sunday morning, “That stuff is straight from the fire of hell, and you better not watch it or you’ll wind up there”. Not exaggerating a bit.
So you might be able to see where I was going?
Yes, puberty-ridden 13-year-old me became the star WITNESS of my school. Totally unread TeEn StUdY bIbLe on top of my schoolbooks. Calling out my science teacher on evolution (pretty sure I even gave a speech in the middle of class). Telling a friend of mine with a lesbian mother that, surprise, she was goin’ straight to HELL. I was a miniature Jerry Falwell on an evangelical tirade. I had to GET SAVED and get dunked (three times forward, none of that sprinklin’ nonsense). Some of you may have been unlucky enough to encounter this particular williamthefloydian.
Then, it all comes crashing down. It wasn’t anything I’d read or some influence, it was simply a sudden thought in my head: “Why?” I honestly remember it clear as day, sitting in 9th grade PE class. I asked myself why was Harry Potter the devil? Why is evolution a lie? Why is everybody except the people I know going to hell?
Asking question like this in an evangelical setting is not well looked upon. Long story short, I did what Edmund Burke would call an “extreme-to-extreme”. In a few months I went from fundamentalist evangelical to the poster child of the new breed of “atheism”, which is frankly just angry anti-theism disguising itself as genuine atheism. The bible on my books got replaced with copies of “The God Delusion” by Dawkins and “God is Not Great” by Hitchens (the latter of which is, to be quite honest, a pretty good book). My conversations, for awhile, seemed to steer towards making fun of those people stupid enough to believe that stuff.
Then, I finally managed to mellow out. I threw around plenty of big words to describe my beliefs: agnostic, deist, occasional pantheist, “spiruitual” (my favorite, due to the extreme ambiguity). But it’s not like I actually cared. It was just a more mellow brand of anti-theism. I rolled with that for awhile. And, yeah, plenty of unrelated stuff happened in the period between ~2008-2011. But the biggest change to my mentality really came when discussing world religions in Geography class. I decided that, if I was going to disagree with people, I’d better know what they believed.
Frankly, I think that thought is one of the better things to ever happen to me. I’ve had the privilege to read and think about some extraordinary works. The Qur’an, The Book of Mormon, Dianetics, The Baghavad Gita, the Satanic Bible, The Book of the Dead, Jewish myths that didn’t make it into the Torah. Some of these I read more recently than others, but I really have read them all. It’s an accomplishment I’m proud of, honestly. Notice, however, I’d never read the Bible. Like most people who have no idea what the Bible is made up of, I always started in Genesis and always got bored somewhere in Exodus. My knowledge of Jesus consisted solely of popular culture references, grandpa’s sermons, and occasional Bible flipping though a KJV so archaic it was like Greek to me (hehehehe).
It’s during my reading of a lot of these texts, along with a good group of friends in which you could discuss the philosophic without sounding like a prude, I began to comprehend the concept of a force bigger than myself, greater than the universe itself. Frankly, it was comprehension of a concept I’d never thought about before. I’d never really thought about the concept of a god, and in my WITNESSIN’ days I just kind of assumed nobody did. You just did your thing and assumed god was there doing… god stuff.
First year of college comes and goes in regards to this story, though I’m lucky enough to meet some great people who are just as willing to discuss topics like this. I think the real point at which the events of the last half-year begin is around the middle of this previous fall semester. This base philosophy of a higher power is, frankly, unshakable from my thoughts when reading or discussing philosophy or theology. I read a lot on the subject. Richard Dawins, Sam Harris, NT Wright, CS Lewis, Rowan Williams, and a plethora of others. I’m drawn between two camps that I consider totally incomparable: the harsh realism of the purely scientific camp and the emotional faith of the purely theological camp.
THEN, as is typical for him, CS Lewis comes to the rescue. He has a certain grace about explaining his concept of higher power in terms that don’t negate the scientific. Frankly, CS Lewis made me a theist. Obviously a lot more than that went into it, but to write down everything is as impossible as me trying to remember it.
So I went on a private adventure, which some of you know about. I’d think in terms of different religions for a week or so at a time, attend one of their services if they were near. I thought Jewishly for a time, reading some of the Torah and even going to the Synagogue in Blacksburg. I thought Islamicly, reading the Qur’an and establishing a regular schedule to meditate (since I didn’t think prayer was necessarily appropriate, being non-Muslim). I thought Zen Buddhistly, practicing some yoga and attempting some hardcore meditation and reflection on zen works (which, to be honest, I still do a bit of because it’s pretty legit). Then came time to act Christianly, and I realized I had zero idea what to do.
My evangelical upbringing failed me. It established no solid faith, it gave me no sound advice, and it skewered my view of Christianity so completely that I couldn’t even figure out what it meant to act Christianly.
I decided that the only way to solve this, truly, was to attend a multitude of services and soak in the attitudes. And, boy, did I get some attitudes. I went to Presbyterian churches so elderly you could hear a pin drop from China. Baptist churches so wary of newcomers that they would move in droves to avoid me. “Independent” churches so pumped full of adrenaline that my existence was never acknowledged save for a card in the pew asking for my information.
So, I thought, THIS is exactly what I thought it would be.
I held off my adventure for awhile over winter break. When I came back to my apartment I decided to give a few more places a try. At the same time, I decided that if I was going to make a decision on the merit of Christianity I at least needed to finally read the source material. I eventually wound up getting a copy of the Oxford Revised English Study Bible w/Apocrypha, pretty much on a whim (since it was modern, study-oriented, and included the Apocrypha). Hypothetically, if you’re inclined to believe in divine intervention, this is certainly a case for it. Here’s a book filled with notes and references so dense they can fill up half the page. The entire first 1/5 of it is nothing but scholarly articles on Biblical topics. I bought the primo secular Bible and it was probably one of the better things to happen in this adventure.
With the extreme help of /r/Christianity for theological discussion I began an adventure through the prime points of Christian faith, the four gospels. Here’s this guy, this Jesus fella, saying what might seem to be, at times, the most basic of things. And, yet, it’s magnanimous in its effect. It resonates, frankly, to the very core of everything that makes me human. it is shocking in its simplicity and extraordinary in its humbleness. It is the antithesis of everything I grew to believe it was.
True story, the first gospel I read (out of recommendation) was St. John. The theologically-inclined will know that this gospel is separate from the other three in its subject matter. It is far more ethereal and spiritual in nature, universal in its subject. And, oh man, did that ever resonate with me. I had managed to read it in an evening, and after finishing it the only thing I could really do was sit in my chair and say, “well… shit.”
It’s about mid-January at this point, and I’m completely questioning the concepts I’ve believed and disbelieved. It’s not necessarily the work itself, either. The Qur’an was beautiful, the Bagavad Gita ethereal, but it was more. Honestly, it took extra-biblical material to take away doubt of error from my mind. Kind of funny, considering evangelicals are all about that NOTHING BUT THE BIBLE EVER mentality.
Tactius’ Annals, the Talmud, Josephus’ Antiquities, Mara Bar-Serapion’s letter, or Justin Martyr in his Dialogue with Trypho all talk about, historically, situations presented. The life of Christ, Pilate, his execution and subsequent disappearance and reappearance. Honestly, this could go on for hours. I could list a million conclusions I’ve attempted to figure and have come to. I could just as equally list the multitude of doubt that still plagues a concept such as this.
Sometime near the end of January my adventure took me to The Episcopal Church. I was familiar with Anglicanism roughly, Elizabeth I and Henry VIII and all that good stuff, but not really with the practice. I found a richness of theology, a group of people as open to discussion as I was, and experienced a moment (or a few) where I finally sensed that I could overcome the preconceived notions that had been in my head since childhood. I found a catechism that followed my own lines of thought, and history that merited a welcoming of all. I found an end to my years and years of confused exploration when, after a few visits and plenty of reading and meditation, I was able to truthfully profess an acceptance and belief of the words, meaning, and magnanimity behind the Nicene Creed.
Like CS Lewis, a favorite of mine, I am more than aware of the many rational arguments against my conclusion. I’ve also used plenty of them in the past. But, like Lewis, I believe I posses that dual mentality, having been both a disbeliever and a believer. As weird as it may sound, of all things I could be grateful for one of the highest on the list is my sudden loss of unbacked and fruitless faith and the slow, sometimes painful steeping of a rich belief. Frankly, I’m probably still as shocked as you are.
But I’m being confirmed in the Episcopal Church this November 1, All Saints Day at my All Saints parish. It just feels good to get a story I’ve been building up for 20 years out in the open.
Painting by Hitler auctioned for $161,000
Watercolour of Munich's old city hall, believed to be painted by late-Nazi leader, sold to anonymous Middle East buyer.
A watercolour of Munich's old city hall, believed to have been painted by Adolf Hitler in 1914, has been sold for 130,000 euros ($161,000) at an auction in Germany to an anonymous buyer from the Middle East.
Kathrin Weidler, director of the Weider auction house in Nuremberg, said on Saturday that the work attracted bidders from four continents. She declined to elaborate on any details of the bid.
The painting, entitled "Standesamt und Altes Rathaus Muenchen" (Civil Registry Office and Old Town Hall of Munich), is said to be one of about 2,000 works that Hitler painted between about 1905 and 1920 as a struggling young artist.
In his autobiography 'Mein Kampf', Hitler wrote that, as a young man, his hopes of becoming an artist had been dashed by repeated rejection by Vienna's Academy of Fine Arts.
Experts consider his work to be of mediocre quality and the larger auction houses generally refuse to sell the late Nazi dictator's works, the AFP news agency reported.
Five other Hitler paintings have fetched between 5,000 and 80,000 euros at auction. The painting of the city hall, which was sold by a pair of elderly sisters whose grandfather purchased it in 1916, was expected to fetch at least 50,000 euros.
The auction house said the 28-by-22 centimetre scene auctioned on Saturday also includes the original bill of sale and a signed letter from Hitler's adjutant, Albert Bormann, brother of the dictator's private secretary Martin Bormann.
From the text of the undated Bormann letter, it appears the Nazi-era owner sent a photo of the painting to Hitler's office asking about its provenance.
Bormann wrote that it appears to be "one of the works of the Fuehrer.''
Weidler said the original handwritten bill of sale, dated September 25, 1916, had come with the painting and was a rarity for Hitler's art. That also explained the relatively high selling price, she said.
Watercolour of Munich's old city hall, believed to be painted by late-Nazi leader, sold to anonymous Middle East buyer.
A watercolour of Munich's old city hall, believed to have been painted by Adolf Hitler in 1914, has been sold for 130,000 euros ($161,000) at an auction in Germany to an anonymous buyer from the Middle East.
Kathrin Weidler, director of the Weider auction house in Nuremberg, said on Saturday that the work attracted bidders from four continents. She declined to elaborate on any details of the bid.
The painting, entitled "Standesamt und Altes Rathaus Muenchen" (Civil Registry Office and Old Town Hall of Munich), is said to be one of about 2,000 works that Hitler painted between about 1905 and 1920 as a struggling young artist.
In his autobiography 'Mein Kampf', Hitler wrote that, as a young man, his hopes of becoming an artist had been dashed by repeated rejection by Vienna's Academy of Fine Arts.
Experts consider his work to be of mediocre quality and the larger auction houses generally refuse to sell the late Nazi dictator's works, the AFP news agency reported.
Five other Hitler paintings have fetched between 5,000 and 80,000 euros at auction. The painting of the city hall, which was sold by a pair of elderly sisters whose grandfather purchased it in 1916, was expected to fetch at least 50,000 euros.
The auction house said the 28-by-22 centimetre scene auctioned on Saturday also includes the original bill of sale and a signed letter from Hitler's adjutant, Albert Bormann, brother of the dictator's private secretary Martin Bormann.
From the text of the undated Bormann letter, it appears the Nazi-era owner sent a photo of the painting to Hitler's office asking about its provenance.
Bormann wrote that it appears to be "one of the works of the Fuehrer.''
Weidler said the original handwritten bill of sale, dated September 25, 1916, had come with the painting and was a rarity for Hitler's art. That also explained the relatively high selling price, she said.