Reaching

I am taking a class on healing this term at theological college. It's very interesting. I may have mentioned it before, I forget. I'm amassing a collection of free ebooks on google play by the early eastern church fathers (Origen, Irenaeus, John of Chrysostom, etc) who seem to have had their collective heads screwed on straighter than, say, Augustine. They were more holistic (less 'anti-flesh') in their understanding, and also saw healing as broader than a quick fix. (pic from wik.)

(You have to love class reunion photos. This was before the DJ arrived.)
I've also been renewing my love for winter trees lately. Yesterday was a clear day for once so I went to the park to take pictures.

I gravitate towards this type of thing in my painting too. I think I like the reaching towards life, the determined growth. Or something. Lately all I want to do when I put paint on canvas is swoosh it around with my fingers, which usually means I end up with a sludge-coloured mess. But it's a sludge-coloured mess with intent. And this time I carved into it sgraffito-style with my fingernail, a tree-slash-roots, depending which way up.