Tuesday, December 12, 2023

Book Review: Supernatural Freedom from the Captivity of Trauma: Overcoming the Hindrance to Your Wholeness

 *****

This is one of those books where the title speaks volumes. Living with and through trauma can become a stronghold in a person's life. We learn to identify with affliction. Trauma can create bonds of good (finding this book) and bad (acting out our trauma and pain). Having someone, even in book form, speak faith, healing, and hope in one's life can, in my case, produce tangible forms of restoration and healing. I learned about this book via Sid Roth's program It's Supernatural. It is full of hope and insight mentally, physically, spiritually, and psychologically. The language is easy to comprehend and is free from clinical and/or overt medical terminology.  We are prompted to ask ourselves, "What are we going to do with that trauma?" No matter the form whether it's PTSD from war, suicide, insanity, or alcoholism, there is hope. This book is freeing insight from the chains that bind us and torment us.



Wednesday, August 24, 2022

Melancholy Desperation Undone


 Watercolor on paper 9x12" 2022

Sunday, October 10, 2021

New Work: Shadow Play


 Shadow Play 8x8" Watercolor media 

Tuesday, March 24, 2020

The most meaningful quote for me about creativity comes not from an artist but from a recovering alcoholic, writer, counselor, theologian, public speaker, and management consultant. "The greatest learning of my life is that creativity overcomes violation and is the answer to violence."--John Bradshaw

Thursday, September 12, 2019

Tuesday, March 26, 2019

Saturday, February 23, 2019

Take the Feeling of Being Awestruck

Have you ever experienced the feeling of being awestruck and deeply moved? Years ago, when I was about 7 or 8 years old, in Catholic school, children were given a prayer book and a rosary for their first holy communion. In the pages of that prayer book were the most heavenly, light-filled images my young mind had ever seen. l was awestruck, captivated, and mesmerized by the images. I put the items under my desk, hoping to savor them when I got home. l could hardly wait. It was the last day of school, which only heightened the prospect. When my mom picked me up, we got about one-fourth of the way home when I realized that the book was still at the bottom of my desk at school. Something like dread came over me. I begged my mother to turn the car around and go back. My pleas fell on deaf ears. As my young mind tried to come to terms with the emotional devastation of it all, I again cried out for her to just go back and get my prayer book. Again, it was as if talking to a stone. Hopelessness began to set in as well as disbelief at being ignored. My heart was breaking as the idea of turning back became a distant echo. Something that I had valued became seemingly unimportant in my mother's eyes. What could have been more important than that which fed the mind and soul of a child?