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Two books offer entrance points for the intimidated.

1914–1943

There’s no containing what we
call God, force-field of agape
love, nameless, wild, omnipresent
within the seed, the star, the sparrow,
galaxies and grains of sand, limitless
without exception, mystery beyond
our knowing, beyond and in all sons
and daughters, in those who show us
how to live, stripped of self to flower
forth, the desert blooms, the spark
ignites the Dali Lama, Desmond Tutu,
Rumi, Etty Hillesum singing, yes,
singing, on the train to the camps.

TaraShea Nesbit’s novel about the Mayflower pilgrims and their conflicts

Artist and color theorist Josef Albers influenced generations of artists. Among them is Leslie Williams. She describes the impact of his thought as the beginning of “a love affair with color . . . the purity of color as expression.” Something as basic as an exploration of color introduces new layers, new contrasts, a new language for art built from hue, density, pigment, and light. Sometimes moments of change, tragedy, or devastation open a different way of noticing brightness and color.

See better, Lear. (King Lear, 1.1)

Phil Christman explores the idea of the Midwest.

Last words—alleluia, alleluia—echo as we
gather coats, bulletins, purses, hopes,
shut away our prayers again with the names
of the dead in jeweled glass, polished brass,
a clatter of coins in the collection plate.
Full moon wafer of bread, broken with
a snap, like bone, chalice lifted and left,
wavering candles snuffed one by one as
the cross departs with the last pale notes
of another requiem and we turn again—
stumbling—to our brief, our borrowed life.

Two reality TV shows remind us why physical connection matters.

When the Colonel from Monterey picked me up
at a gas station in Rock Springs, Wyoming,
he said it was my short sleeves—no tracks to hide.
I had just combined a bowl of grapenuts with powdered
milk at a rusty sink in the men’s room, having hitched
a day and a night from Sawtooth Ridge in Yosemite.

Matthew Whitney recounts four brief, daily practices from a spiritual teacher of his: chant, meditation, simple work, and simple activities. One simple activity the multidisciplinary artist practices—and practices and practices—is walking. His walks in and around Seattle show up in his writing, in the spiritual direction podcast he hosts, and in his art. His recent series Writing in the Urban Grid explores visually the practice of walking.