FRIDAY ARTS PROJECT
is on PAUSE
A TIME TO PAUSE, A TIME TO REST
We want to cultivate a community sensitive to the minds and needs of its volunteers. We can know in moments what is happening on the other side of the world—not just one thing, but dozens even hundreds of things. Having time to free the mind up from things to have rest is important to life and creativity.
Our volunteers give their time to a cause or job that they get no recompense except for the love of the mission. Friday Arts Project’s volunteers give a lot of time, talent, and treasure—for which we are grateful! Providing time for volunteers to have a break from established rhythms is a valuable thing for the human imagination and the body that supports that muse.
In my Christian tradition we call it Sabbath. In academia and other places it is called sabbatical. Some of our community have come to refer to July (for Friday Arts Project) as the Off Month. Whatever we call it, I see it as extremely valuable to us as individuals and a community. Tuning our bodies, minds, and imaginations into a fresh rhythm helps us appreciate when they return once again to the regular rhythms of life. This is why we pause our regular events in the month of July. To give us time off, to place us in a different rhythm.
Even though I am an introvert, I still miss people, especially my friends. Let me speak to that. Just because there are no events to connect doesn’t mean you shouldn’t connect with people in our community. You may just have to find a different way of doing that…. Besides, it’s only a month.
Don’t be a stranger, and see you in August!
P.S. Don’t forget about the Open Call for Artists for Art Party Juried Competition!
P.P.S. Thank you for all you do! If it wasn’t for you we wouldn’t do what we do. See you back in August for regular monthly and weekly rhythms.
The Day is Done
The day is done, and the darkness
Falls from the wings of Night,
As a feather is wafted downward
From an eagle in his flight.
I see the lights of the village
Gleam through the rain and the mist,
And a feeling of sadness comes o’er me
That my soul cannot resist:
A feeling of sadness and longing,
That is not akin to pain,
And resembles sorrow only
As the mist resembles the rain.
Come, read to me some poem,
Some simple and heartfelt lay,
That shall soothe this restless feeling,
And banish the thoughts of day.
Not from the grand old masters,
Not from the bards sublime,
Whose distant footsteps echo
Through the corridors of Time.
For, like strains of martial music,
Their mighty thoughts suggest
Life’s endless toil and endeavor;
And to-night I long for rest.
Read from some humbler poet,
Whose songs gushed from his heart,
As showers from the clouds of summer,
Or tears from the eyelids start;
Who, through long days of labor,
And nights devoid of ease,
Still heard in his soul the music
Of wonderful melodies.
Such songs have power to quiet
The restless pulse of care,
And come like the benediction
That follows after prayer.
Then read from the treasured volume
The poem of thy choice,
And lend to the rhyme of the poet
The beauty of thy voice.
And the night shall be filled with music,
And the cares, that infest the day,
Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs,
And as silently steal away.