All posts by GretchenJoanna

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About GretchenJoanna

Orthodox Christian, widowed in 2015; mother, grandmother. Love to read, garden, cook, write letters and a hundred other home-making activities.

Leonid Ouspensky

ouspensy bookIn church to commemorate St. Herman of Alaska today, we also remembered the iconographer Leonid Ouspensky who died in 1987. He was born in Russia in 1902 and while still a teenager began to be an activist for the cause of Communism, going about preaching atheism and destroying icons. He joined the Red Army in 1918 and was captured by the White Army and forced into their service; after the war he ended up in Paris in a community of artists. The following tells what happened there that changed the course of his life:

“Looking at [a collection of icons], Ouspensky understood that the icon was something that had no equivalent whatsoever…. Ouspensky…made a bet with Krug that he could easily paint an icon even though he was a non-believer. He painted an icon of the Mother of God in a fortnight. But while he was working on it, he understood that it was holy and could not be the object oChrist+the+Savior ouspenskyf a bet and burned it. From that moment, he would regularly settle down at Grinberg’s place to contemplate the icons at length, trying to penetrate the mystery and understand how they were made. This is how little by little he became a Christian and an iconographer. We can rightly say that the icons themselves led him to faith.”

His life story has many twists and turns with elements of suffering and adventure, and obvious interventions of God’s grace and mercy. He went on to paint many icons and to teach others, and write books on the subject. You can read more about Ouspensky here: orthodox wiki and here: iconeorthodoxe .

leonid-ouspensky-full

Gleanings – Fashionable Philosophy

I’m going along slowly through David Bentley Hart’s book The Experience of God: Being, Consciousness, Bliss. It takes me longer to eat my soup at lunchtime, because I so often put down my spoon and pick up a pencil to underline one passage after another, sometimes just because the most obvious ideas are expressed in eloquent prose that makes me happy.

On the other hand, I also have to stop and consult the dictionary about quite a few words I don’t know, some that seem completely new to me and others I just haven’t read for several years and whose meanings have become foggy. Sapient, proleptic, etiolated, deracinated, lacunae, phylogenic, otiose. Really, I should make myself a Vocabulary List to keep handy for study and review, and maybe I wouldn’t forget so soon. This list should include scores of words I have circled on the pages of almost every book I read, words that I don’t often take the time to investigate right then — or sometimes ever.

In the second chapter, from which the following paragraphs are taken, Hart is discussing “Pictures of the World,” and he cautions the reader that “the philosophical tendencies and presuppositions of any age are, to a very great degree, determined by the prevailing cultural mood or by the ideological premises generally approved of by the educated classes.”

“…inasmuch as the educated class is usually, at any given phase in history, also the most thoroughly indoctrinated, and therefore the most intellectually pliable and quiescent, professional philosophers are as likely as their colleagues in the sciences and humanities (and far more likely that the average person) to accept a reigning consensus uncritically, even credulously, and to adjust their thinking about everything accordingly.”

“…I think it is fair to say that a majority of academic philosophers these days tend toward either a strict or a qualified materialist view of reality (though many might not use those terms), and there may be something of a popular impression out there that such a position rests upon a particularly sound rational foundation. But, in fact, materialism is among the most problematic of philosophical standpoints, the most impoverished in its explanatory range, and among the most willful and (for want of a better word) magical in its logic, even if it has been in fashion for a couple of centuries or more.”

–David Bentley Hart in The Experience of God, Chapter 2

wet and comfortable

I need a wood fire for something more than warmth today. The storm brought to us by the Pineapple Express weather front is dumping buckets of rain steadily all day and night, but without cold temperatures. Last night as Mr. Glad and I were decorating our Christmas tree we actually got way too hot from the blaze I had going — of course that just gave us an excuse to go outdoors and cool off on the front steps, and smell the rain.

This morning is just as warm, but after discussing the principles of Want vs. Need with myself, also covering the question of Wastefulness, I came to some conclusions.

1) If the fire in our woodstove puts out more heat than we need, we can leave some windows open to the music of raindrops and puddles, a concert we have been longing to attend for what seems like ages.

2) If I have the soul-nourishing comfort of a wood fire to keep me busy and to remind me of the goodness of God and our life here on earth, I won’t feel the need to fortify myself with the cookies I am planning to bake today. If those cookies were to go to my waist it would surely be a waste!

3) I’m reminded of the need to resist the exaltation of the principles of Efficiency and Economy. What may look to some people like waste of resources might be a very wise choice. Besides, I don’t live my life by principles but by the Life of God.

I wish I could take a picture of the sounds and smells around me this moment, but I’ll have to make do with one from my files, from a time when we had not only a toasty fire, but sweet cats on the hearth.

zoe by fire

Dampness is married to gravity.

Lingering in Happiness

After rain after many days without rain,
It stays cool, private and cleansed, under the trees,
and the dampness there, married now to gravity,
falls branch to branch, leaf to leaf, down to the ground

where it will disappear — but not, of course, vanish
except to our eyes. The roots of the oaks will have their share,
and the white threads of the grasses, and the cushion of moss;
a few drops, round as pearls, will enter the mole’s tunnel;

and soon so many small stones, buried for a thousand years,
will feel themselves being touched.

–Mary Oliver