LAURA PETRISIN AUTHOR/ILLUSTRATOR
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Blog - Perspectives

Contemplatives and the Abbey Of Genesee

5/30/2019

2 Comments

 
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​I scheduled a retreat to stay at the Abbey of Genesee this past weekend. This abbey is in Piffard, NY and was founded by Trappist monks. Their livelihood mostly comes from baking bread which is appropriately known as “monk’s bread.” Beside the rectory, there are three houses on the rather enormous property.
​ I decided to stay in the Bethlehem House. There are single bedrooms in the Bethlehem House and everyone is required to be silent, which means, of course, there is no talking. That’s not a hardship for me as I’m not a big fan of small talk. When I arrived, the cook (a lovely, older woman) showed me around the house. There is a chapel which is open 24/7 and a reading room with lots of books. People are allowed to bring books back to their rooms to read if they wish to. There is also a dining room and meals are served twice a day. There is a counter with cereal, monk’s bread to make toast, and fruit. There is also milk, water and juice in the fridge. Breakfast is a “help yourself whenever you want” deal. That means if you crave a bowl of cereal at midnight, go for it. 
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Like most monasteries, there is a daily schedule of prayers at the rectory known as the Liturgy Of the Hours. The Liturgy Of the Hours is the official set of prayers "marking the hours of each day and sanctifying the day with prayer". It consists primarily of psalms supplemented by hymns, readings and prayers.
The hours are:
3:30 am Vigils
6:30 am Lauds
12:00 pm Sext
5:30 pm Vespers
7:30 pm Compline
The visitor is free to go to all the prayer hours, some of the prayer hours, or none at all. I have gone to a few at Mount Savior Monastery in Elmira, NY. They are short and sweet. I have to say, I love hearing the brothers chant scripture.

​Saturday morning I got up early, said hello to the chickens and billy goats on the property, and then hiked along the Greenway which follows the Genesee River. The Greenway is a half mile from Bethlehem house, if that. It’s a well kept, easy trail with some pretty views. I got back to my room around 10:30 and decided to visit the Abbey gift shop and stay for the noon prayer in the chapel. I bought some Monk coffee roasted by the brothers and some Monk biscotti baked by the brothers. I also picked up a book about Thomas Merton, called In the School Of Prophets. 
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The chapel was beautiful. There is something about Monastery chapels - a sense of mystery, a reverence, something ancient and good. Modern churches that I’ve been to (both Protestant and Catholic), don’t come near it. There seems to be little focus on contemplation and silence in most western churches. 

​The mystery is what draws me to the monastery. It provides a place to come apart from all the activity and noise of everyday life. It gives the opportunity to think and to be at a deeper level. There is something to being still, listening and inviting God’s presence. 

I brought to the abbey one of my favorite books - The Artist’s Rule, by Christine Valters Painter. Painter writes about a path that is traveled by both monk and artist. It is one of contemplation and creativity. "The way of the monk and the path of the artist are teachers of slowness, of savoring, of seeing the world below the surfaces."

Contemplation takes practice. "We have to practice being present to the moment, because our tendency - and the world conspires in this - is to be distracted."

Often a scripture or a prayer is is given as a focus for contemplation. Painter gives Jeremiah 6:16:

Thus says the Lord:
stand at the crossroads and look,
and ask for the ancient paths:
where the good way lies; and walk in it,
and find rest for your souls.

​I'm asking.

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Crazy Turtle Clock

4/7/2019

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Here’s a little update on my art studio. All the cosmetic work has been done. The easel and work table are in place. The first thing I wanted to hang on the wall was this artsy, little turtle clock.

I picked up this baby in Monterey, California. My daughter-in-law, Sarah, and I decided to go shopping. She took me to this quirky store that had crazy clocks hanging all over the place. Sarah ended up buying a cool, coffee cup clock, and when I saw this turtle; I knew I was not leaving the shop without it. I’ve always liked turtles.

Did you know that turtles symbolize peace? They are also symbols of the earth, groundedness and patience. Oh, and don’t forget, ancient wisdom. I could use a little of that. Heck, I could use groundedness and patience too.

I love my turtle clock. I love the colors and I love the fish pendulum. In this day and age, where most people check their phones for time, I enjoy the steady motion of a pendulum belonging to a stationary wall clock. Now, I’m hoping it will keep perfect time. But even if it doesn’t, it will stay where it is - a piece of art, symbolizing things that matter to me.
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Building An Art Studio Part 3

3/4/2019

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Ceiling, walls, chimney and floor are all painted! Now the fun begins - decorating!
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The first thing I wanted to do was hide my washer and dryer. They had to stay in the room because there was no place else for them to go.  So, I was able to cover them with a bamboo screen. Out of sight, out of mind!
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​The next thing I wanted to do was lay down a rug. I wanted something simple and something that wouldn't show paint spills too badly. My assistant, King, couldn't seem to keep off the rug once it was down.







​Next came the light. My husband, very kindly, put the ceiling light fixture up for me.
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​The first piece of equipment I had to move into the new studio was my easel. It fits nicely in the corner. It's got wheels so I can move it too.
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I ordered a new art table. It has drawers, a place for brushes, a sliding side surface... it is the bomb! The only drawback was that it came unassembled. Fortunately, my husband, once again, helped me out!
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I love my studio! It is such a great space! I've even started teaching art classes in it. I will add more  little by little as I go along, but what a great way to start out the year! It's a dream come true!
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Building An Art Studio Part 2

2/26/2019

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!We are on the second stage of building the art studio. That comes down to a lot of painting

The walls have been rolled, and now it's time to paint the trim with a little help from my friend, Janet Smith!



​The next thing to tackle is the chimney. I had to get the old, rusted, gross pipe out of there. I didn't know what might jump out at me from that hole! I steeled myself and then painted the cement a nice, clean white.
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​I put a nice, new pipe in the chimney. That pipe goes to our water heater in the basement. Then, I put a second coat on the walls. The trim is all done and things are starting to look good!

The next thing to tackle is the floor!





The floor is an old, wooden floor. The first thing I wanted to do was caulk all the cracks to help keep the cold out. There were a lot of cracks but my assistant was ready to help as usual!
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​It took as long to paint the floor as it did to paint the walls. It was worth it though! What a difference a coat of paint makes!






​The ceiling, walls, trim, floor and chimney are painted.

Now comes the fun part - decorating! Stay tuned for Building An Art Studio Part 3! I'll be putting down a rug and hauling some art equipment into my new studio!
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Building An Art Studio Part 1

2/20/2019

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I finally bit the bullet. I finally decided to turn my junk room into an art studio. I figured if not now, when?

​When I say junk room, I mean junk room. However, it's a room with potential. It's a fairly good size and it has windows on three sides, which means light, and light is gold to an artist. The first thing to do was to clean it out. That took a full day.


The next thing I had to do was hire somebody to put up new sheetrock and wire the room for heat. I hired a small, local company called Peek Construction. They began work by tearing down the old sheetrock and hauling it out.
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Then the new sheetrock had to go up, the wiring done and a heater installed. That's my dog, King, by the way.

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My husband generously offered to paint the ceiling while I chose the paint and primer to cover the walls. Then, I spent a day cutting the paint into the walls and ceiling. Coming soon -  Building An Art Studio Part 2 - the next stage in renovation!
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Alcohol Inks On Marble!

11/8/2018

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A few weeks ago I was helping my daughter, Grace, clean out her garage. Whenever I see clutter and hordes of stuff just taking up space, I get in a militant “throw away” mood. I was doing just that, until I came to a box of marble tiles. The proverbial light bulb went off above my head and I immediately wondered how alcohol inks would look on marble.

So I snuck the box of tiles to my car before my daughter turned around and noticed. JUST KIDDING! Grace generously gave me the box. Of course, the fact that I was helping clean out her garage may have given occasion to that gracious act.

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When I got the tiles home, I tried the alcohol inks on one, and I really liked the result. There is something to painting on a substantial piece of marble, as opposed to paper, that is really cool.
I ended up painting six tiles. One of them sold and the other 5 are at Hector Handmade - a cute little shop in Hector that carries art and handmade products from local artisans. Check them out when you get a chance!
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Joy

3/19/2016

3 Comments

 
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Recently, I found myself asking the question: How much Joy do I have in my life? Not how much money or how much success, but how much Joy? I am in my 6th decade and if I don’t ask the question now, then when? I don’t confuse happiness with Joy. Happiness is fleeting. It comes and goes and is too often dependent on circumstances. No, I’m talking about Joy, a Joy that is deep and abiding, the kind  that whistles in the dark and cannot be dictated to. I’ve been thinking a lot about Joy - how to get it or maybe, how to get it back. I think Joy hangs out with Gratitude. I think it’s the antithesis to worry.  What exactly is the anatomy of Joy? But I veer off course even asking that question. Because Joy is not a formula, or a dissection, or an analytical thesis. I don’t claim to know the full definition of Joy but I think it’s something rooted, yet free; abandoned, but not chaotic. Face up turned fearless, arms flung wide open…. ready to receive.

Joy centers us. It goes deep and lifts. It is strong. No weakling has abiding Joy. It is made of sturdy stuff crowned with a child’s laugh.

​How much joy do you have in your life? it is a question worth asking.  Love to all!
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January 02nd, 2016

1/2/2016

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Monasteries and the Art of Simple

11/10/2015

2 Comments

 
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​There are places on this planet where the air between heaven and earth is very thin. I experienced it once at a church garden in Ireland. The second time was at Mount Savior Monastery in Elmira, NY. It's as though molecules of light have cleared out those of heaviness in the very atmosphere. You can feel it. I know I felt it when I traveled to Mount Savior at the end of March this past year. Winter had not released its grip and it was still bitterly cold. I was looking for some time alone where I could just "be."



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​There are two small cottages at the monastery which are rented to visitors looking for personal retreats. The monks, known as brothers, call them casa1 and casa2.I stayed in casa1. The cottage had everything a person would need ​- a kitchenette, bathroom, bedroom with single beds, and a small living room with a fireplace. There was an old radio with two channels, but no tv or any other form of entertainment. The bathroom towels had been washed so many times they were paper thin and scratchy. That was ok, though. John the Baptist dressed in camel hair and I bet that was scratchy too.

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​The brothers support themselves by bee keeping and raising sheep. The monastery has a gift store where honey and wool are sold. It also has a wide selection and range of books. During my weekend there I began a friendship with authors like Thomas Merton, Henri Nouen, and Anthony De Mello. Both Merton and Nouen had spent time at Mount Savior in the past. 
There is a big wooden barn on the premises, located in the sheep pasture. It's like any other barn except that it has a white cross on it. Nothing fancy. Just an acknowledgement of a man who was born in a barn and died on a cross. There is a hill you have to go over just before you arrive at Mount Savior. As I crested that hill, the first thing visible was the barn.
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Even though it was freezing, I took time to walk around the grounds. There wasn't much too see in the dead of winter. But I had nothing I had to do and nowhere I had to be. 

I continued exploring and almost missed a significant piece of art hidden in an unlikely place. I saw something attached to a cement shed of sorts. I couldn't make out what it was so I walked closer. It was simple wire and wood screwed into a concrete wall. No elaborate religion here. It was stark. A man on a cross. Obscure. Naked to the elements - wind, rain, snow. Wire wound  to form a figure. The position was telling. Head down, knees bent. Gravity pulling, suffering bowing, weakness bending. Meaning stripped down. 







​It made me stop. There was something about this primitive art that touched a chord. I wondered about the brother who had made it and why he had hung it where he had. I wondered how long it took to finish and if the wire had cut his fingers while working. It made me ask questions about my own art and my reasons for doing what I did.
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The morning I left Mount Savior, I did a small ink drawing on watercolor paper. The subject was a scraggly pine tree behind a rock wall outside my casa. The drawing  was simple. I left it on the table underneath the house key, and closed the door.
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Hidden Treasure

10/31/2014

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Who could guess that hidden within the dry, barren terrain of the Navajo Reservation in Arizona, there are slot canyons of incredible beauty!  One such canyon is known as Antelope Canyon, near the town of Page. 

The Navajo name for Antelope Canyon is 'Tse bighanilini,' which means "the place where water runs through the rock." The canyon was formed by erosion of sandstone, mostly due to flash flooding.

Antelope Canyon bears the mark of rushing waters and the rock presents its own distinct liquid flow, similar to blown glass.

You can't visit the canyon at will. It is owned by the Navajo people, and you must sign up for a tour with a Navajo guide who drives you down a red, rocky trail to the mouth of the canyon. From the outside it looks much like any other rock formation except that there is an opening like a narrow, curved slit in the cliff. Entering that slit is where the magic begins!




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Beams of sunlight stream down from jagged openings in the ceiling, illuminating curving spirals of rock. The rock itself looks like ribbon candy with stripes of gold, burnt sienna, dusky rose and deep plum. Standing in that cayon, I wanted to stop time just to take it all in.

There's something about Antelope Canyon, it's hidden treasure, that haunts me. I left the canyon, but it didn't leave me. I'm struck by the beauty that is worked by God in secret. How long did that slot canyon lay "hidden in a field" before it was discovered?

I appreciate a God of mysteries and of hidden treasures. I don't want a God who is easily defined and managed. I want One who both hides and reveals Himself at His own choosing. The kind who hides from the all-knowing and self important and reveals Himself to babes. I look to the Holy writings to voice something that I am only grasping at intuitively. 

"... the mystery of God... in Whom are hid all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge.."

"... and in the hidden part, you shall make me to know wisdom.."

"For you are dead, and your life is hid with Christ in God..."

"But we have this treasure in earthen vessels..."

But we have this treasure in earthen vessels... like Antelope Canyon hidden in barren, rocky desert. 
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