I am an Mary the Mother of God
egg tempera painting Iconographer and a member of the Orthodox Church of America. In our discipline, whether you are an artist or not, you must follow the cannons of the Church in writing an Icon. Even to the colors you choose for the robes and outer garments of the particular saint you are doing the Icon (Image). Even if you do not agree with the way it should be done, it is done in accordance with the discipline and Cannon of the Orthodox Church. So, we don't interpret the painting of an Icon. The Icons I do are according to the Byzantine Tradition. I have studied with Master Icongrapher, Vladislav Andreyev of the Prosopon School of Iconography (Russian).

Santeras means Trinidad
original painting
20 x 20 inches "Saint maker" or one who paints saints, as in the Russian tradition of self-taught artists painting naive religious icons after devout prayer. There is a difference between making an icon, and having it become the object of worship, and making a representation that expresses a truth about God. We cannot depict the Father, the Holy Spirit, or the Trinity. Herein lies the contradiction of faith, both invisible and boundless, yet evidenced through our very real humanity. I set out to describe my faith through a Child's eye. In creating this series I became a santera: a saint maker interpreting the holy moments of each day. Inspired by the joy of my infant daughter Sophie, I relied on the spirit to move through me to create raw childlike images infused with feeling. Many figures float in a timeless space in which their bodies are painted as shimmering vessels for their hearts. If we reveal our spiritual nature when we release our fear of difference and our sense of separateness from one another, then it is inevitable that in the figures grew increasing similar and androgynous in each new work. I'm particularly fascinated by images of triplets - as a metaphor for aspects of us - the trinity depicted as three male figures dancing or floating together as one body. Or as three women, often with one or more painted over but still faintly visible. These are everyday saints, personal icons depicting mysteries of joy.

Today, in retrospect, icons appear to be a repetitious and stultified art form, with only the copying and recopying of archetypical and formalized images that hasn't changed much for at least six centuries. In a way they are like the liturgy itself, incredulities repeated so many times that they appear as truth. When one is contemplating the beauty of these images, one must take into consideration the innocence and primitive understanding of the sincere ones who originally made them.

I read your letters with pleasure, and I especially appreciate your courteous comments with regard to icons. Iconography is a living art form and those of us who have had the pleasure of going through the immense labor to "write" an icon know that it can be an intense form of devotion. Painting with egg tempera requires patience, silence, and skill. Nature is brought into play if the iconographer is able to collect his or her colors from the earth itself. Those of us who appreciate the world around us, and take time for silence and nature, can greatly appreciate the beauty of iconography and the greatness of the Divine.

I met Father Illio Torricelli at Cal State U. in Los Angeles when we were both there taking art classes. We were both interested in painting, and he liked what I was doing. He was interested in icons and enjoyed doing them in the old, traditional manner, complete with a red oxide base and gold leaf on top and painted in egg tempera. They were gorgeous to my eye. What did he do with them? "Oh, I have a collector! He pays me $50 for each one!" It was hard not to have some unladylike words to say about that "collector." With his newfound wealth he bought a good camera and a small painting of mine. Then he found one of his icons in a gallery one day, being offered as an original, with a price tag of several thousand dollars and after that he never again painted one.

It is so Rio de la Beccarie, San Polo
watercolour painting
17 x 13 inches interesting the discovery and learning about other cultures and you are so lucky to experience it first hand. Thank you for sharing the experience and the essence of the Orthodox culture. The question for me is what is the essence of a place? The physical, visual expression of a culture or the inner perception of the locals living a life day by day? Perhaps for me the visual images of a place make the frame in which my spirit may find the doors to a culture. Artists need to learn to see the essence of what is in front of their eyes and then understand the roots of its creation. I am fascinated by this discovery of a place because the eyes of my mind can be open to new possibilities and references that in return may lead to really understand a Culture. Artists need to see and understand culture as is giving in every day's life but without forgetting that a visual world talks to the spirit in each one of us in different ways. And what is that the artist does talks to the spirit and then he shows the gates of that inner world of a culture in his work.

The Mission
San Xavier del Bac Mission San Xavier Del Bac is only a 15 minute drive from my home in Tucson, Arizona. It was established by Father Kino in 1732 and is probably one of the oldest churches still in use today. It is constantly under repair and reconstruction both inside and out. Its walls are rich with various religious frescos in various stages of repair. It is featured in many of the paintings of Ted De Grazia . The early Indians referred to it as the white dove in the desert and as you approach it from the highway the white towers of the mission seem to rise from the barren desert before you.

I have magnificat
original painting taken three icon workshops at the Franciscan Center in Lowell, Michigan with Diane Hamel who is a local iconographer. She learned from Peter Pearson who wrote a great how-to book called A Brush with God . Since 'writing' an icon is not a creative endeavor but a contemplative one, I had to quiet that part of myself that thinks outside the box and conform to the directions and work on 'making each brushstroke a prayer.' Each color and part of the process is proscribed. It's a semantic or symbolic language so it's important to pay attention to all the nuances of the process and the details. All the students paint the same icon in the same way in an atmosphere of meditation, and while there are variations because of skill levels, the goal is to pay homage to the image we are copying and the iconographer whose icon we are copying and the Lord whose story is told through the icon. This was a great experience in appreciating an old style and learning the value of layering and quieting.

I recently created 3 paintings in the icon style using my own designs. I wanted to bring the element of music into images of the annunciation and nativity. I manipulated music on the computer and printed it on acid free tissue paper, then made it adhere it to the paintings with clear acrylic medium.

Reading your Going back
oil painting letter this morning has once again made me think you have an inside track on what I'm thinking about. How do you do that? Last night I was looking at some paintings I had done years ago, completely different from my style now. Nevertheless, at the time, they elicited a very spiritual connection for me, and challenged me at the same time. At this time, when other work is moving quite slowly, I think I will re-visit the exploration of my earlier years. Is that going backwards? I think maybe it is coming full circle.

I enjoy your observations on so many things. This one on the icons brings to mind a fact we really don't think about: for century upon century the average person in the street could not read. So the icons and other art in churches, then into homes, was a visual way to remind them of the contents of Scripture. To this day we respond more to visual objects, rather than words - a "go" for art! We will listen to a person's speech and get a vague impression of all of it, but a carefully contrived logo or icon goes a long way. Thanks for showing this.

My husband Fisherman's Wharf
watercolour painting
16 x 20 inches and I just returned from a two week holiday in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea thanks to you. On May 22 of last year, I responded to your letter on "The Persistence of Creativity." I received a response from Paul Caruana , a graphic artist like me. We related on that level and experienced the same trials and tribulations of being in that business. He was from Malta, an island which lies below Sicily along with her sister islands of Comino and Gozo. Through emails describing his country and seeing many works of art which drew me into the old world, I wanted very much to see the island and to meet him and his family. My husband and I decided to go there. What a great time we had and what an honor to meet this great artist. We've made some great friends and hope that one day he'll realize his dream of visiting America. So here's to you, Robert Genn, for facilitating something beautiful via your letters.