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Collecting Dust seems an odd name for your first blog. It invokes images of cluttered mantelpieces, a stack of vintage vinyl records, and the set of unopened boxes in the attic. If my words serve a purpose, why call them dust?
For me the title is both honest and hopeful. Honest because our stories can't escape darkness, dirt, and mess. Honest because in this day of quick social media scrolls, my writing's reach will be small. These words fade faster than I can type them out. Hopeful because dust asks to begin again. Muddy clay spins into crafted treasure at a potter's wheel. Stars birth from collapsing dust clouds. This change takes time but light, heat, and energy form from the fall. Soil is God's medium. He breathed life into collected dust and Adam's lungs opened. Dust can be made new. My pencil searches for light and beauty in graphite and sawdust--scratches and paper. May you catch a flash or glimmer of them in the words that gather here. |
ABOUT ChavonChavon is a new writer from Victoria, British Columbia. She's a school teacher, a wife to Joshua, and a mother of three boys-Clark, Leo and Felix. She wrestles with simple answers and is learning to listen, to be still with God. |
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Copyright Chavon Barry 2020. Collected Painting, Copyright Janet Anderson, All Rights Reserved.
