Badass Saints April 30, 2012Posted by J. in Genius.
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Etsy is in a downward spiral. I’ve seen the handwriting on the wall for a long time, and I’ve already blogged about how I’ve seen resellers cropping up all over the place and crowding out the individual artisan making things with her own two hands. Etsy has been slow to close down obvious reseller shops, and has been “expanding their definition” of handmade to include shops that have more than one person behind them. They call them “collectives.” The tipping point is approaching where Etsy won’t be a good fit for someone like me, but in the meantime, I opened a second Etsy shop. Why? ‘Cause I can.
I’d wanted to try amigurumi but my crochet skills were a bit rusty, and it’s not like there was a pattern I was dying to try. Then I saw a shop that had the most delightfully twisted little critters in there: decapitated sheep. An Exorcist playset. Conjoined nun twins.
And the idea hit me.
Crocheted Saints. But not just any Saints. BADASS Saints. Not merely paragons of holy virtue, but people who knew what it meant to give everything to God. Martyr-heroes, we call them.
I started with St. Agatha and a basic understanding of construction techniques and after some trial and error, she was done–cute as a button with her breasts on a plate. Headless St. Denis was next, carrying his head in front of him, preaching the Gospel. St. Stephen is rendered by two sandal-clad legs poking out from under a blood-soaked pile of stones. All that’s left of St. Ignatius of Antioch is his head and an arm hanging out of a lion’s mouth. And beautiful St. Sebastian has 8 removable arrows and comes with his own shackles.
Today I’m finishing St. Rocco. Actually, Rocco is done, but I have to finish the dog that’s supposed to be licking his wound. And his halo.
I gotta tell you. I think the St. John’s Wort is making me a little crazy. I find myself in a mode where I simply MUST MAKE ALL THE THINGS. My creative streak is running amok.
Why that same energy doesn’t apply to cleaning the house I shall never understand.
Badass Jesus April 14, 2012Posted by J. in Genius.
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Okay, so today is the Saturday in the Octave of Easter, right? Nine years ago today, I walked into St. Joseph’s for 4:30 Mass and found my Badass Jesus there and have been following him as best I can ever since. I told you that whole story of my faith becoming new and very much alive again, so you know all that. Well, today is that anniversary, which really hadn’t occurred to me, since it’s not like I celebrate with a cake or anything.
I get these emails called “Take Five for Faith” every day, and this is what today’s said:
Wake up to God
Explaining what one does on the last day of Passover, Brooklyn, N.Y. Rabbi Naftali Silberberg writes: “On the night of the Seventh of Passover, many have the custom of remaining awake the entire night. This is because on this night the Jewish people were awake, crossing the Red Sea and experiencing tremendous Divine revelations.” To this day spiritual seekers of every tradition seek to be awakened to the presence of God. These moments come in sometimes the most surprising places—a late-night prayer, a sewing project, a lunch date with a friend, a stressful day at the office, or, in the case of a few early Christians from Emmaus, a walk on a long and dusty road with an oddly familiar stranger. Where will God awaken you?
TODAY’S READINGS: Acts 4:13-21; Mark 16:9-15 (266)
“It is impossible for us not to speak about what you have seen and heard.”
Weird, right? It’s why I scoff at people who claim God doesn’t talk to us. Pshaw, I say. You just have to know how to listen.
Being able to see Christ all around me is a blessing and a gift that was given to me 9 years ago, and nothing has been the same since.
Once you see it, you can’t unsee.