Barry Moser: I Knew I was Home, Part 2

glenGuest post by Barry Moser

The following post, continued from yesterday, is adapted from a talk given at the 2014 Glen Workshop in Santa Fe, New Mexico.

A few years after my first Glen, the drawing class convened once again. One of the members of that class was a woman from Florida named Patricia Oetting, a registered nurse.

She had never drawn before, and obviously had never had the experience of drawing from live models. But she was game and was taking my instruction with seriousness and the mandatory good humor. And she was getting a real kick out of the fact that she had worked with naked patients most of her life, and knew the anatomy of the human body quite well—better than I, but had never actually looked at a naked person in such an honest, forthright, and casual way. [Read more…]

Barry Moser: I Knew I was Home, Part 1

barryGuest post by Barry Moser

The following post is adapted from a talk given at the 2014 Glen Workshop in Santa Fe, New Mexico.

Ten years ago, Greg Wolfe asked me to teach drawing out here at Glen West. I was an admirer of Image journal but I nevertheless looked into the Glen West workshops before accepting the invitation. And while I found nothing remotely off-putting, I was, nevertheless, shall I say, hesitant.

I spent the better part of three years as a fundamentalist Methodist preacher—licensed, not ordained—while I was in college. I was a resolute Biblical inerrantist when it came to the Bible (King James, of course), and I was certain that I was right, by God, and anybody who did not believe the way I did was gonna suffer in the eternal fires of Hell.

That juggernaut was going along well enough when a girl in my youth group got pregnant.

And you know what happened? [Read more…]

The Ardent Whisper of God

12glenGuest post by A.N. Muia

The following post is adapted from a talk given at the 2014 Glen Workshop in Santa Fe, New Mexico.

I came to the Glen Workshop while on sabbatical. For fourteen years, I’ve served as a minister to Mexican migrant workers, jail inmates, and addicts at the ministry of Tierra Nueva in Washington State.

The sabbatical was my chance to finally focus on writing, a lifelong passion that had gone dormant during the busy years of ministry. My inner voices told me that it was difficult to justify writing fiction when people are struggling and dying from addiction. Ministry updates became my primary genre. And testimonies. And grants.

But a novel about Baja California—a world of colonial missions, priests, soldiers, indigenous, pearl divers and saint-makers, the roguish and the devoted—lay dying in my drawer. [Read more…]

Over the Rhine: Finding Our Tribe

Over the RhineGuest post by Linford Detweiler

The following post is adapted from a talk given at the Glen Workshop in Santa Fe, New Mexico, August 7, 2014.

Hello. I’m Linford Detweiler. I’m one half of the band Over the Rhine, and my wife and I are leading the songwriting workshop this week.

I asked Greg when I saw first saw him here a few days ago—I was just thinking out loud—if there was any significance to the fact that both Over the Rhine and Image were celebrating 25th anniversaries this year. Neither of us could pinpoint anything immediate, but Greg did remind us that we would be getting together in October at his alma mater up in Michigan. You see, Hillsdale College is welcoming Greg Wolfe back to campus to recognize his contributions to the world of art and faith and the conversation that continues to evolve around the two—a dialogue and a dance that Greg has made his life’s work and passion.

Greg joked and said, Yeah, the prodigal son returns. And I said, Yeah right. What could possibly be prodigal about your achievements? [Read more…]

These Frigates, These Chariots

Guest post by Kathleen Housley

It is a sunny morning in early June. A sabbath calm suffuses the empty Mt. Holyoke campus, the students having left for the summer. Other than a jogger, I seem to be the only one around, sitting on the stone steps of Pratt Music Hall listening to the sound of a small waterfall flowing into a nearby brook.

I am waiting for an old blue van, edged with rust, to arrive from Wichita, Kansas, over 1,500 miles away. Belonging to Warren Farha, owner of Eighth Day Books, any minute now it will chug up to the curb loaded down with the contents of an entire bookstore for Image’s Glen East Workshop.

Unfortunately, Warren will not be at the wheel this year due to another obligation; instead Joshua Sturgill, his able associate, is making the grueling twenty-four hour odyssey to South Hadley, Massachusetts. Because I live only an hour south in Connecticut, I have volunteered to help him set up the store in one day—a job so large it is on par with Hercules cleaning out the Augean stables. [Read more…]