Idée d’jour

Only those things are beautiful which are inspired by madness and written by reason.
— Andre Gide, author, Nobel laureate (1869-1951)

Idée d’jour

It is my belief that the writer, the free-lance author, should be and must be a critic of the society in which he lives. It is easy enough, and always profitable, to rail away at national enemies beyond the sea, at foreign powers beyond our borders who question the prevailing order. But the moral duty of the free writer is to begin his work at home; to be a critic of his own community, his own country, his own culture. If the writer is unwilling to fill this part, then the writer should abandon pretense and find another line of work: become a shoe repairman, a brain surgeon, a janitor, a cowboy, a nuclear physicist, a bus driver.
— Edward Abbey, naturalist and author (1927-1989)

Prayer & Commerce

Went to hear Miss Brown To You perform at Wings of Desire a combo salon, art gallery, and vintage furniture shop on Hudson, just south of NW 23rd. It's run by Patricia Lee Russell. Mireille Damicone, one of the artists was also there. Mireille creates large floral canvases, jewelry, and icons.

So, Patti and I were sitting in two salon chairs by the sink, and Mireille was sitting on a bench across from us. Patti asked Mireille, "Have you prayed today?" "Everyday."

"Would you pray for me?" Mireille nodded yes.

Patti joined Mireille on the bench and they clasped hands as they faced each other. I didn't know what to do. It felt like an intimate and private moment. The Spirit lead me to close my eyes and join my heart with their prayer. Mireille's words were soft, indistinct.

My heart burned as if on the road to Damascus. I felt blessed.

This was during the performance, so none of the patrons were aware of this private moment. No particular creed or belief system was imposed on anyone. Just a private moment of prayer, where two or three were gathered.

I was reminded of a similar incident years ago, when I lived in Norman. Tony's Top Drawer, a vintage & used clothing shop, was in downtown Norman. It was the best source of quality inexpensive duds. It was a frequent destination on Saturdays after payday, when I needed to supplement my wardrobe.

I was shopping there one Saturday when a group of people came in. The owners of the shop gathered around this group and prayed over them. Business stopped for this moment of prayer. Turned out, this group of people was going on a mission trip, and were friends of the owners.

As I paid for my selections, I let the owners know how much I admired them for that moment of prayer.