Uphill idealist

On Sunday April 5th, First Lutheran Church Youth and Family Ministry will host an African Hand Drumming Workshop with Rich Schuler , a teaching musician with the Arts Council of Chautauqua County . Only $3.00 will hold your drum reservation for this class for ages eight and up. The class will be held from 1:00 to 2:00 pm, so be sure to wear comfortable clothing for this activity! Class space is limited, so reserve your space today!

(Image found at Delicious Earth .) Spring provides an opportunity for us to make a transition to spending more time outdoors, being more active, and spending less time in our winter state of hibernation. We are in a time of change, growth and shift in these early cool days of spring - but I think we are at a place of being ready for some waking up. The crocuses are peeking out of the ground by the walkway by my house, a robin or two have been spotted, and the last "official" day of winter is now behind us. I think it might be safe to say that Spring has arrived! (Just don't get to hasty on the shorts and tank tops yet!) In the church calender we have approximately four more weeks of Lent, before the time of great rejoicing and joy: Easter. This point in the Lenten season, it can become more challenging to stay focused on Ash Wednesday pledges and commitments, so I was considering shifting my perspective within lent to a more spring-like point of view. I've been thinki

Original cat image here . Its a foggy morning washed in damp gray. I see a sleepy serene city, slowly starting its day. School buses stop at each street and are covered in morning dew. Little children dressed in yellow rain coats dance in the mist with their umbrellas, as they wait for dripping folding doors to open and allow them to climb those big black steps inside and sit on a big vinyl green seat. Windshield wipers steadily, but slowly cross my windshield. Keeping the pace with water spitting tires and red stop lights; driving down a hill, up and hill and around the corner. I feel like a gunpowder gray cat that wants to curl up and rest in the quiet of this day. I'd nap away the morning chill till the sunrise dried up the dew and its beams came in my window to wake me. I'd curl back up in a ball, nose to tail, and find a cozy patch of sunlight to sit in. Then I'd think about getting started, maybe. But, I'm already started and halfway there. Engine running, turn si

I adjusted the url address yesterday as so many folks were searching via my Blog name: Uphill idealist - and now my google reader can't find me and Blogger says the blog is not in existence. It is, the idealist is still here - it's just a technical hill I'm climbing today. Who would have thought changing one word (to make things easier), would make things so complicated? I've returned my url address to what it was before: http://lamont-uphill.blogspot.com/ as I don't want to confuse anyone further. Let me know if you have any problems. T

My watercolor painting, Deep Roots". After all the painting in my office last week, I've been thinking about color. The colors I choose for my office were spice, cream and eggplant. Only after looking at my office, then looking at the colors on my blog background, and then taking the following color quiz; I'm finally convinced that Violet, yup violet is my color. My mixed media painting, "Jesus Walks". As I look around I keep finding splashes of it everywhere. In what I've been painting, in what I've been wearing and what I had painted on my office walls. The spectrum of my violet tendencies range from red - to fuchsia - to indigo blue - to plum. It's interesting too, that the personality portion of this quiz seems to be just about on track. I would anticipate the answer of the 10-13 year old girls in my youth group what their favorite color was. Ninety percent of the time would hear them chime in almost in unison. "PURPLE!" I guess some co

Back in the day, my friend Drew and I used to go to church together. I've always admired his artistic creativity and thought you'd like a chance to see a little of his work. Go to Drew Pocza to see what I mean.

Image bu Ryan at jitZyl Hope Hope is the thing with feathers That perches in the soul, And sings the tune--without the words, And never stops at all, And sweetest in the gale is heard; And sore must be the storm That could abash the little bird That kept so many warm. I've heard it in the chillest land, And on the strangest sea; Yet, never, in extremity, It asked a crumb of me. Emily Dickenson Hope is something of a necessity, even more so on gloomy days. The photo above is a back lighted picture of turkey feathers! I would not have first thought that a picture of turkey feathers would evoke such a feeling of hope. That's hope for you, surprising us where it happens to show up. Peace.

Image from Mel's Dream When I was a little girl, I remember getting ready in the morning for school and they're would be few things that would hurry me out of bed. Pancakes would, but pancakes were not a school day breakfast. There would be to much a chance of getting syrup on my dress (Yes, these were the days girls still occasionally would wear a dress to school.)or in my pigtail braided hair. Usually we had cereal and juice for breakfast, something like Cheerios or Life. But every now and then, a smell so comforting and appetizing would waft up the steps to my room and coax me from my toasty comforter. Some special school day mornings, my Mom would prepare: potato patties! They aren't gourmet fare, but they certainly are tasty. Potato patties were simply left over mashed potato's with an egg or two mixed in and dropped into a fry pan coated with butter and cooked till each side of the patty was crispy and golden. To this day, I prefer potato patties instead of home

Image by Karen Moen/Lens Flare Lofting in rays of sunsets purple and blue, colonies of jellyfish clouds quietly assemble and rest in my sky. They peer at the life of those down below, wondering why they hurry, when gracefully gliding works for them so well. Looking up to see their constantly changing pace, yet the jellyfish clouds never hurry; they seem to be filled with only light and grace. They only have this moment, this sunset, this day; and they meander along in their own gentle way. T.L. Eastman