Lately my participation in the eucharist is requiring more attention, more care. It’s not like I’d been holding out; at least, I don’t think so. But there is a distinct change in my private worship that I can measure, in intensity if not in inches. This happens to me every so often, and when it does I find that in order to embrace the prayers of the priest and the congregation, I need to stretch my imagination almost to breaking point. It’s the ordinary and the extraordinary again that confound me; the seen and the unseen. I know both to be true, and even so every few months it seems that my mind gets caught in a loop of trying to use its cleverness to dissect the details. It’s a fools game, I know. Only love is needed. Oculos cordis, Ambrose and other church fathers called it, eyes of the heart.
On View: Pouring Vessel with Goblets from Hjalmarson Pottery. Halldor and Gail Hjalmarson have maintained a pottery studio in the Roosevelt Historic District of central Phoenix since 1973 and produce a body of creative work which reflects the imagery and feeling of their Sonoran Desert.