Yesterday we held a day for the arts, which I called "Arts for the Heart", here at our home. About 30 people came by to take part in workshops offered by area experts. Potter Ken Wilkinson (I'd offer a link but he has yet to set up a homepage; however, you can find examples of his work at several outlets if you google him) showed over a dozen people how to use the wheel and to also do other pottery; mandala artist Margaret Bremner demonstrated how to do Zentangles, an intricate ink form, and several of the participants made some lovely work; watercolourist Ivy Moore showed several participants, in a couple of sessions, how to work with bright coloured spray; poet Bruce Filson read poems with animation, including a poem by the late Larry Rowdon and a contrapuntal reading with me of the forthcoming Spirits in a Broken World: A Poetic Conversation, which I hope to publish with Rob O'Flanagan in 2010; young poet and musician, Thomas Mitchell Doran, read some remarkable works and accompanied himself on his guitar for three original, quite delightful songs; I read some poetry and a segment from Annie Dillard's amazing Pilgrim at Tinker Creek; Bernie demonstrated to an admiring crowd how to make homemade linguine (which they subsequently ate all up!)...in short, the place was a relatively well-organized zoo. My niece Stephanie made a lovely acrylic painting, and her brother Graham, along with partner Chelsea, made a couple of lovely paintings of their own; the children painted and 'blinged' to their heart's content, and really enjoyed trying out the pottery wheel. We fed 30 people, with a little help from our friends, and had a very good time. Bernie thinks we should do this event twice annually. We are starting to think seriously of converting the barn into a studio and putting the chickens (in spring he intends to order a lot of poultry to raise for meat) in the back outbuildings.

So the first week of holidays is almost over; the sun is making its way down as I type. During the next week we will venture out to spend time with my sister and her family on New Year's Eve, hopefully taking in a movie or two. There are, uncharacteristically, several from which to choose. I am interested in Invictus, and in the Sherlock Holmes film with Jude Law & Robert Downey Jr., and in the comedy with Hugh Grant & Sarah Jessica Parker...decisions, decisions. I think there's something with Sandra Bullock, too, but it looks like a sports movie from the poster so I'll probably wait and get it on DVD. I will have to spend one day doing preparation for the coming term and exams, but will wait until the new year for this.

I always feel a little split when I talk about the new year as the calendar changes; the Baha'i calendar actually celebrates the new year on March 21, along with several other cultures. So I guess I get to have two new years a year; this one, when we go from 2009 to 2010, and then the celebrations of March. Fine with me. The important idea, I guess, is that as each day opens we have the opportunity for renewal. It's not just a question of making new year's resolutions (I don't; if there's something that important to me to accomplish, I start when I feel strong enough to do so, generally speaking). It's a question of how we think; how we view the time we spend here on this planet. It's about substance; about how to improve each day of our lives, regardless of the numbers on the calendar. It is with this in mind that I will close this post with one of my favourite quotes from the Baha'i writings, one which I used as part of the dedication in my most recent book:

"Let each morn be better than its eve and each morrow richer than its yesterday." Baha'u'llah

Photo Credit: Coral Gomez

Sometimes I think that the theme of my life, as I grow older, becomes "Beauty". Baha'u'llah, the founder of our faith, thought that the principle of beauty was profoundly important, as evidenced by many of His writings, including a title awarded Him, "the Blessed Beauty." So my thoughts this week turn to beauty for a number of reasons, and as such, it seemed appropriate to begin with one of my sister Coral's photographs; she has an exquisite eye and the whole family enjoys receiving the results of her ability to find beauty in many places in the world.

This week, in addition to the natural landscape around us, which, covered with hoar frost and sunlight demonstrates the reasons that some of us like the prairies despite the cold, beauty is found, of all places, in a movie theatre. Bernie and I celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary by going to the film "Avatar." Much has already been written about this film, including at Baha'i Thought, Phillipe Copeland's very intelligent blog. Much has been said about the technology (and less about the story, which has differing points of weakness depending on your politics), but I wanted to say, here, that I was overcome by the sheer beauty of the world James Cameron has created. I fell in love with colour again; I fell in love, again, with all the shades of turquoise I had forgotten existed. It was my first experience of 3D, but that was less interesting to me than sitting, mesmerized, by the beauty of the Pandoran world and its creatures. Bravo to the film if only for this: that it is a film drawing our eyes, our minds, and our spirits, to the spiritual principle of beauty. Beauty prevails, even as we watch magic threatened by the earthbound minds amongst us. It's a salient reminder at this season, which is, I am sure, no coincidence.

Speaking of the season, I always breathe a slight sigh of relief once Christmas Day is over. I used to abhor the slogan, "Jesus is the reason for the season" but I am coming to the point in my life where I think it may be the most important reminder of the end of the year. As many of you know, we Baha'is affirm and uphold the beauty and perfection of the Christ; for me, raised a Baha'i, and without the celebration of Christmas, this time is a wonderful holiday time to be together with family and friends, but it has nothing to do with shopping or overconsumption, whereas the majority of my acquaintances seem to spend a relatively frenzied month of buying, wrapping, and eating chocolate (the latter a little enviable for a person currently not eating sugar!) I keep my eyes and ears out for just a whisper of the beauty of the reason for the season, and sometimes, a song sidles my way, or someone makes a beautiful piece of art which reminds me of the spirit of Christ. Santa Claus is someone else's myth; Christ's birthday is someone else's story; however, I love the Nativity story. It is, indeed, for me, the reason for the season. I watched at our school Christmas pageant as shopping became the central reason for the season, but was deeply touched when our grade one/two teacher, perhaps courageously, had her class do a sweet scene of the Nativity and sing "Away in a Manger." Many of my students are so completely secularized that they are unaware of some of the deeper values associated with Christmas. Thus, at this time, I am fonder of wishing people a happy new year.

I have hope for 2010. I don't know why; perhaps it is because 2009 has been a lovely year for us, and because, in every way I can find, I am focusing on beauty, whether through prayer and meditation, or more commonly through the natural world in which I find myself. I look out over the prairie each day, and find its nuances more beautiful; I find that this winter, cold as it is, does not bring me down but is confirming a sense of joy. Birds feed at the feeder outside our kitchen window and I watch them (I'll share a few photos next time, perhaps), glance over to the western treeline where the frost is sparkling, to the right where a line of lilac bushes waits to burst into bud in the spring, appreciate the new, warm brown eggs my husband brings in each day from the chicken house out back, watch the flickering of the fire in our living room, and listen to the laughter of my son and his cousins...and remember that beauty is all around us.

I truly wish every reader an exceptionally beautiful 2010. God Bless.