Tag: Art

On Sunday April 24 Spark My Muse will be 1 year old!
HOORAY!
Thank you to everyone who has helped by listening, with encouragement, and with gifts to keep the Spark My Muse show going.

To celebrate there will be some very interesting things happening in the….
#weekofSPARKle —stay tuned!

Want to send a small birthday gift?
Click to give, the baby Spark a present.

 Today, I have a return guest!
My soul friend, Shane Tucker.
He has a new book and you can get it free.
Today we converse about it and Irish culture
–two fire-makers are sparking things…what’s not to love?

Scroll down for essential links and show notes.

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SHOW NOTES

MIN 1

Shane is an Anglican Priest and Soul Friend – a fire-maker of souls – sparking fire for souls!

“Being a best friend you’ve always wanted.”

• Link to my 1st episode with Shane (if you haven’t heard it yet)

Rhythm of Life book link

Intersection of Arts, Faith and Culture

MIN 5

Dreamers of the Day

MIN 6:30

Classic Principles (walk with me)

Poverty, Chastity, and Obedience

MIN 9:30

Distinctive Practices (work with me)

Two Distinct calls of Jesus:

Walk with me & Work with me

MIN 12:00

Photography in the book

and introspective questions within the book

Stirring desire which is fuel for the journey.

The good, the true, and the beautiful

MIN 15:30

Selfish or corrupted life practices

Dallas Willard

VIM

• Vision

• Intention

• Means (resources and tools -practices and disciplines/space makers for God to rush in)

The process of transformation.

MIN 19

Abundant life and freedom

MIN 20

Offering what little we have up to God and into the world.

MIN 22

Dream Out Loud (book)

…is about the 2nd call on our lives building for the Kingdom of God.

Ode by Arthur O’Shaughnessy

Ode

We are the music makers,

And we are the dreamer of dreams,

Wandering by lone sea-breakers,

And sitting by desolate streams;

World-losers and world-forsakers,

 

On whom the pale moon gleams:

Yet we are the movers and shakers

Of the world for ever, it seems.

With wonderful deathless ditties,

We build up the world’s great cities,

 

And out of a fabulous story

We fashion an empire’s glory:

One man with a dream, at pleasure,

Shall go forth and conquer a crown;

And three with a new song’s measure

Can trample an empire down.

 

We, in the ages lying

In the buried past of earth,

Built Nineveh with our sighing,

And Babel itself with our mirth;

And o’erthrew them with prophesying

To the old of the new world’s worth;

For each age is a dream that is dying,

Or one that is coming to birth.

 

A breath of our inspiration

Is the life of each generation;

A wondrous thing of our dreaming

Unearthly, impossible seeming —

The soldier, the king, and the peasant

Are working together in one,

Till our dream shall become their present,

And their work in the world be done.

 

They had no vision amazing

Of the goodly house they are raising;

They had no divine foreshowing

Of the land to which they are going:

But on one man’s soul it hath broken,

A light that doth not depart;

And his look, or a word he hath spoken,

 

Wrought flame in another man’s heart.

And therefore to-day is thrilling

With a past day’s late fulfilling;

And the multitudes are enlisted

In the faith that their fathers resisted,

 

And, scorning the dream of to-morrow,

Are bringing to pass, as they may,

In the world, for its joy or its sorrow,

The dream that was scorned yesterday.

But we, with our dreaming and singing,

Ceaseless and sorrowless we!

The glory about us clinging

 

Of the glorious futures we see,

Our souls with high music ringing:

O men! it must ever be

That we dwell, in our dreaming and singing,

A little apart from ye.

For we are afar with the dawning

 

And the suns that are not yet high,

And out of the infinite morning

Intrepid you hear us cry —

How, spite of your human scorning,

Once more God’s future draws nigh,

And already goes forth the warning

That ye of the past must die.

 

Great hail! we cry to the comers

From the dazzling unknown shore;

Bring us hither your sun and your summers;

And renew our world as of yore;

You shall teach us your song’s new numbers,

And things that we dreamed not before:

Yea, in spite of a dreamer who slumbers,

And a singer who sings no more.

 

A wondrous thing of our dreaming,

Unearthly, impossible seeming-

The soldier, the king, and the peasant

Are working together in one,

Till our dream shall become their present,

And their work in the world be done.

 

And therefore today is thrilling,

With a past day’s late fulfilling.

And the multitudes are enlisted

In the faith that their fathers resisted,

And, scorning the dream of tomorrow,

Are bringing to pass, as they may,

In the world, for it’s joy or it’s sorrow,

The dream that was scorned yesterday.

 

For we are afar with the dawning

And the suns that are not yet high,

And out of the infinite morning

Intrepid you hear us cry-

How, spite of your human scorning,

Once more God’s future draws nigh,

And already goes forth the warning

That ye of the past must die.

 

Great hail! we cry to the corners

From the dazzling unknown shore;

Bring us hither your sun and your summers,

And renew our world as of yore;

You shall teach us your song’s new numbers,

And things that we dreamt not before;

Yea, in spite of a dreamer who slumbers,

And a singer who sings no more.

MIN 25:30

The book title’s connection to the band U2

Streets Have No Name

Always

MIN 27

Hope in Irish culture and in the music. The folk music expresses sadness and joy together.

MIN 29:30

JRR TOLKEIN

eucatastrophe 

“ a good undoing”

a joy that brings tears–a sudden glimpse of truth.

MIN 32

The Trips Shane Guides to Ireland

Featuring ancients stories, heroes, and revered saints, landmarks, pubs, and historic features.

Find Shane on Twitter:

@dreamingbig

His website: artistsoulfriend.com