Metatron Mag May 2012

7/27/2019 Metatron Mag May 2012

1/20

BE ORIGINAL.

A Promise is a Promise

Walking into a Dream

Zoe 4: the great safeThe last installment in our

ZoeBiosphere tetralogy

$4.50

may/2012

The Marked Man

An interview with a modern saint

MARK WILLIAMS

Josh Russell reviewsBlue Like Jazz: The Movie

WordsOfWisdom

GRIPby NathanBeauchamp


2/20

Guess what? Life lives here. This is the literal translation of ZoeBiosphere, the title of

our now nished tetralogy, which is four part poem series. Hopefully youve been ableto check them out. The rst poem, He Knew Peace, is below. We believe there are in-spiring stories and people doing world-changing work artistically and otherwise. Thismonth we prole Mark Williams. He is a farmer, singer, and songwriter who loves tocreate. Seriously if this guy does not inspire you, no one will. He trudges onin the midst of tragedy and uncertainty with a childlike determination that he

will leave the world a better place than he found it. Check him out onYoutube, andyou will not be disappointed. He sings from a place beyond what we can see, thusdrawing us into the deeper life the Creator intended. There is Life here! We live on anearth growing better everyday. So enjoy our second print version of Metatron Mag.

Were glad you stuck around to see what happens. God is calling to all creativity.

2 Metatron May 2012

Nathan Bam Bam Stanton Creative Director| Metatron magazine

1859 S Ashland Ave Chicago, [email protected]

Reconciling the Creator with creativity

the jump

He Knew Peace

Not so much as to cripple an advance

Many a gift has given a chance to be the best

Love for the personication is still leftTo grace when the most translucent phases

Haste the lace cover trellises of my garden softly

The voices of ex-

Cons harden

Among the brethren never meant to escape

The wheel place inside an age fed then

Art splayed against righteousness former

Morals take the look

Of cynicism left drying in the dust

Like laundry in the windFor the sun tired of stiffening garments that truly

Seek restoration

A new vision claimed this had always been so

Many tears calm the tempest within

For the ocean will always respond to

Objects made of passionate songs

Sadness

Takes no

Soul by surprise yet

Perches just above

The steadfast


3/20Metatron May 2012 3

What we have to be is what we are. -- Thomas Merton

Life is this simple: we are living in a world that is absolutely transparent andthe divine is shining through it all the time. This is not just a nice story or afable, it is true. -- Thomas Merton

Anything worth saying is unsayable; thats why we tell stories. -- KevinMofett

I went to the Festival of Faith and Writing at Calvin College in Grand Rapids in

April, and after one day of wondering why on earth I went, I spent the next twodays reveling in the joy of listening to passionate, widely loved writers share abouttheir work. I hope to carry some of the messages I learned with me in the days and

years ahead, and I believe it would only be neighborly to share them with you as afellow voyager on my journey to explore the intersection between belief and art.

Exploration

My sister, who was with me, attended a session during which the speakersexpounded on the power of the essay. It is a concept we have forgotten due tothe widely held notion that essays are boring. The following is literally cut andpasted from Wikipedias entry on Essay, but I believe it is clear and conveys

what she shared with me:

The word essay derives from the French innitive essayer, to try or toattempt. In English essay rst meant a trial or an attempt, and this isstill an alternative meaning. The Frenchman Michel de Montaigne (15331592) was the rst author to describe his work as essays; he used the termto characterize these as attempts to put his thoughts into writing, and hisessays grew out of his commonplacing.

So consider these editorials I write as essays. They are my attempts to understandand investigate ideas. I do not have the answers, nor do I ever hope to pretend thatI do, but I invite you to read while I search for a better understanding of my faithand why art is important.

So this was the rst revelation for me. Essays: potentially cool.

What is your Question?

The rst keynote speaker was Gary Schmidt, a professor at Calvin and anauthor of books for young adults. He spoke about this very concept: writing is anexploration, and art must have meaning. He shared, Stories are not about havingall the answers but asking the right questions. All art is directivepointing to aquestion. He continued, suggesting, Perhaps the biggest task for a writer [andI would say any artist] is to nd that question that will provide the reader witha shaken soul Stories should quicken us by shaking our souls, sometimes bygrabbing our throats. In our art, we need to each nd that question that will leadus home.

(cont. on page 7)

Editorial 2: Themes from an Awakening


4/20

may/12 Vol. 1, #2

features10 Mark Williams songs stop the blues

The tale of an inspiring farmer

12 Blue LIKE Jazz: THE MOVIEReviewed by Josh Russell

14 gripNew ction by Nathan Beauchamp

4 Metatron May 2012

12

19 a promise is a promise

Commentary on Hope

9Wow

14

10

2



7 wow

12 new silver

Departments

Ripe Fire

Miracleshout Golden Notes Im(age)

3 EDITORIAL

10 Golden notes

metatron mag

www.metatronmag.com

nd us on facebook and twitterkeyword: metatron mag


6/206 Metatron May 2012

Editor-in-ChiefErica Henry

Creative DirectorNathan Bam Bam Stanton

Web DesignerJeremy Pennington

Account ManagerLiz Stanton

Contributors:Josh Russell, Anthony Allen, Nathan Beau-champ, Exodus Music, Dana Gioia, BeniJohnson, Johnny and the Beloveds, theentire GCC family, the entire Bethel family,

the entire Stanton/Muse family, the entireLex family

Special ThanksThe Trinity, all of our subscribers,the spouses and children of team mem-bers, most of all to the Creator who makesit all happen

metatron

SubscribeToday! andReceive a

*free work of

artmetatronmag.com

2012 Metatron Media, Inc. All Rights Reserved


7/20

Metatron May 2012 7

Your Voice is Strong

I also learned that an artists voiceis a very powerful thing, not to

be messed with. You can only beyourself. Nobody should trust anartist who is not honest, and anyone

who with decent intuition should beable to tell the difference betweenan artist who is being truthful andone who has constructed a truth.Larry Woiwode, the state PoetLaureate of North Dakota since1995 and the author of numerousaward-winning works including venovels, explained it in the following

way: John Calvin said, All truth,

regardless of the source, derivesfrom God. At the center of thattruth is a voice as identiable asa ngerprint You must speak tothe most deep and individual truththat lies within you. It remainstheduty to adhere to your truth. Thechallenge then, after learning to tell

your own truth, is facing the crowd,because Woiwode also explained,The clearer my voice became,

the more my work was faced withhostility. While it is our duty totell the truth, antagonism towardsour art will often grow in directproportion to our honesty.

Art in the Spirit

I also learned that there are twokinds of art. Art that comes fromour own minds, and art that istruly, literally inspired. I attended

an interview of the poet Li-YoungLee, and he shared the following: Idont want to be a writer. My realobsession is to be in contact withthe Divine. He explained that sooften his writing is too full, too fullof my own ego. I write and writeand wonder if there is any wordfrom God. As I have shared before,I am not one to take the Spirit tooliterally. I am rational, and I strive

to write using all the powers of mycreativity and intellect. But could

there be something more to this ideaof the sacred making itself known inour art?

Lee claimed, The making of art isa very deep, effective yoga you doto make contact with the Divine.He read two of his own poems to theaudience. Upon reading each of them,he said that they were troubling.I was mystied then as to why hechose to share them. The second oneincited an even stronger responsethan the rst. He said, This poemreally troubles me. Theres no wordfrom God, the Divine, in this poem.

After explaining his distrust of

writers who are not safe becausethey are in service of their own ego,he left us with a Chinese proverbthat has guided his work: You cometo the earth with mud on your face.

You bless what has to be blessed; youkill what has to be killed.

Perhaps the most exciting sessionI heard was a discussion betweentwo prolic novelists, Debra Dean,

author of the forthcomingTheMirrored World, and Luis Urrea,author ofThe HummingbirdsDaughter. The authors shared aboutthe experiences of writing these two

works, which are both about saints,individuals who perform purportedmiracles but who could be merelyinsane. Both authors chose theirsubjectsone an indigent Indiangirl born to a teenage mother on the

border with Mexico in the 1800sand the other the Russian St. Xeniafrom the 18th Centurybecausethey had no other choice. Theircharacters demanded their storiesto be told. And both authors sharedalmost supernatural stories aboutthe inspiration for their novelsUrreas came by way of the guidanceof a medicine man and Deansthrough a revelatory dream. It washard not to feel that there was more

at play that simply writers relayinghistory that they found interesting.



Editor-in-ChiefErica Henry

Again, it became clear that inspiration is not just a catchphrase among artistsit is areal experience that quite possibly goes beyond the realm of the rational and natural.

The Outsiders Perspective

Lastly, a common theme was the idea that art is often the result of nding oneselfa stranger in a strange land. Leila Aboulela, a Sudanese writer who migrated toScotland, explained that exile, like hers from her homeland, is the saddest of fates,an ancient form of punishment. Yet that is how her writing emerged. She describedthat she was obsessed with expressing homesickness and needed to express thedifferences between the two lands. She claimed, When I left home, thats when I gotthe material I needed to write. Lee, also an immigrant, explained, My experience asstranger has been not happy but fruitfulI wouldnt stop being the stranger becausethe stranger knows how to ask questions. He believes there is a power of being animmigrant, of seeing things differently. The,nal keynote speaker, ChimamandaNgozi Adichie, also made this evident, writing her rst novel, which won accoladesthe world over, upon her move to Connecticut from Nigeria for college.

Conclusion

So art is a yoga we do to connect with the Divine through our pursuit of the answer toeach of our own most important questions in each of our own absolutely unique andpowerful voices.

Books that Inspire

Dreaming with GodBill Johnson

The Kingdom of God IsWithin You

Leo Tolstoy The Artists Way

Julia CameronPoke the Box

Seth GodinMoses Trilogy

Poul Hoffman


9/20

Metatron May 2012 9

God always takes the simplest way, If you want to be happy. be.One of the greatest diseases is to be no one to someone.

I cant die but once.Be kind whenever possible. It is always possible.

Be the change you want to see in the world.Jesus was born by Mary and God, man got nothing to do

with it.

I am not afraid...I was born to do this.Almost always the creative dedicated minor-ity has changed the world.

words of WisdomLets see how well you know some

historical gures. Match the quotesbelow to the quoter and win a prize,

inspiration!

A

B C

D

E

F

G

H

I

1.2.

3.4.

9.

8.

7.

6.5.

answers on pg 15



If I set aside a certain amount of time with an idea, it is possible to come awaywith a song.

Dream big, and then take an actual step towards it. Its a big world with lotsof possibilities, and yes, its messed up. But if you think of a dream thats bigenough to change the world, take a step that would lead towards that.

End goal, we would like to own a farm somewhere and live in the country andplay lots of music and grow lots of food.

Occasionally, you come across clear examples of art being used as a tool: poetryas an expression of love or painting to relieve sadness or a repressed memory.Mark Williams uses music to foster community, empower the helpless, and createmoments of transcendencewhere the power and beauty of words and the cadenceof voice take us beyond the mundane and the tragic with which we are surrounded.

He explains that he considers much of his music modern eld musicmusic to besung out in the elds. He likes the idea of call and response songs, creating unityin a crowded room or on a front porch or in a eld of laborers, backs bent over thedirt. Mark knows that the eld has changed; for many, the eld has become thecubicle, but he believes the need for human connection and the need to rise abovethe human sorrows we all share remain.

I met Mark Williams in college. My best friend, Courtney, introduced me to him.It was 1999. He was a junior, and she was a freshman, and there were undeniablesparks. He was dark with really long, ponytailed hair and she was light with reallyshort, spiky hair, but they both wore matching blue and white pin-striped denimoveralls, which I dont know where you would buy. I also remember that she was

often barefoot, while he was usually riding a skateboard. And I think they met inGospel Choir.

Mark and Courtney went on to date for the rest of Courtneys time at college,

Interview withMark Williams:Urban Farmer,Musician, andServant of the

Poor

I have tons of insecurities, but they all goaway once I start playing.

Sometimes I wonder, Am I ever going towrite another song? Maybe I have writtenall the songs I am meant to write.



and after many years of hard times andgood for both of them, they got marriedin the summer of 2006. So Mark has

been a part of Courtney for pretty muchthe entire time I have known her. Not astressful part or a cheesy part, but a realpart. I dont know too many couples that

seem as right for each other as they do.I dont believe in soulmates, but if I did,they might be one of my arguments for it.

Courtney and I would watch Mark playguitar and sing at his college apartment

with his friends on Friday nights, duringwhat they called Chai House. MikeSethi would make delicious chai tea foreveryone on the stove in the kitchen, andMark and some of the others would play

guitar and sing. It was denitely, Goodtimes.

When you think ofMark, you thinkof singing andguitar music andlaughter and yes,good times withfriends. Markand music areinseparable. My

sister plays herentire, enormous,obsessivelycollectedcollection ofmusic on random,and the CD that Mark and Courtney gaveaway as their wedding favor is part ofthat massive song library. From time totime, my sister will mention to me howMark denitely ought to be famous for his

music. And I dont know about the famepart because I dont know if Mark wouldeven want it, but Mark is an artist whoshould be making music. His job should

be to make music. His music bringspeople together, and it makes life better.It is entertainment as entertainment

was meant to berespite from lifeschallenges.

When you listen to stories about Markslife, unanticipated, synchronistic,incredible musical opportunities area theme. He performed in the choir atchurch as a child and early on developed

the condence that comes from messingup in front of congregation of people.During high school, friends heard Marksinging at camp while washing dishesand invited him to lead a ska band,though he didnt know what ska was.They went on to open for every ska band

that came through Pittsburgh. Markeven learned to play guitar by accident.He brought a bass of his dads to play

with some friends one time, which ledto a mentor offering to teach him how toplay not only the bass, but the guitar.

Mark adds, What really inspiredme was going to Wheaton and seeingJohn Steinmeiier, Andru Bemis andPaul Bessenbacher, all of whom have

become full-time musicians. Gettingto play musicwith friends andlearn from themshaped Marksskill and desire.Eventually, thesecontacts led himto tour Illinoisand Wisconsin,performing atthe MennofolkFestival andeven gettingthe offhandopportunity toplay for GarrisonKeillor. Through

performing with people like Andru andBrad Yoder, I realized it was possibleto make music in a way I had not seen

before, in back yards and communities.Possibilities really opened.

Mark currently works at the PittsburghProject as a community gardener. Thispast year the organization lost fundingand is severing their staff from 50+people to 14. This summer, Mark willnot be able to hire people under himto work the gardens. He optimisticallydescribed this challenge as a blessing indisguise, because the dream has always

been to make the garden an inherent,

community-supported project. Due to thebudget cut, more than 20 neighborhoodfamilies have volunteered to step in andprovide the labor. Mark will spend the

(cont. on pg 14)



ell, its here. Blue LikeJazz the movie, written byDonald Miller and directed by Steve

Taylor (yes, the Christian Rock-star Steve Taylor that you re-member from 1994). Its in theat-ers right now and Ill cut to thechase if youre uninterested in mys e m i - l o n g - w i n d e danalysis: youll probably like it.

The lm, like the book (which waswonderful), is written by DonaldMiller. A man as offensive in hisdaring, beer-drinking honesty as in hislack of scholarly credentials (as onesemi-bitter friend once pointed out).

Ill admit that I was annoyed thatSteve Taylor was directing the

project. For one, I wanted to makethis lm. Okay, ne, a bit of a fantasy,I know. But whats worse, it seemedlike Miller teamed up with the only

edgy Christian to navigate theEvangelical mainstream withoutentirely losing his religious credibility.

Taylor felt like a mossy old battleaxe, and I was bothered that a bookabout the painfully honest (andprofoundly hopeful) navigation ofChristian Spirituality was beingdirected by a clich Christianartist from my clich Christian

past. Flashes of corny Youth Groupretreats and cheesy Christianmusic videos ransacked my mind.

I have a deep and abiding pas-sion to bring the unlteredtruth of redemption before the

world. I have a desire to chuckour pretend, glossy testimoniesinto the abyss so that we might

exchange them for the fear andtrembling, through which weactually work out our salvationunto this wide grace jasper sea.

But my fears were alleviated.Apparently, Im not the only oneworking toward the unlteredtruth of redemption. I guess Ste-

ve Taylor is too. And Don Miller.

Go go gadget story-time.

The lm opens in cleverDon-Miller-speak withMarshall Allman (who playsDon Miller in the movie)narrating. One of Millersstrengths as writer is his abilityto navigate the ne line betweeninsular Christian-talk and, well,

everybody else. True to form,he opens with a vulnerable littleself-effacing bit about SouthernBaptists. Nice move. Soft enoughto keep most Christians hooked,

but honest enough to ease therest.

New Silver

review ofBlue like Jazz

byJosh Russell

W



From there, it drags a touch. The setup is clunky, but gets the jobdone. Don is a model Christian boy, the annoyingly perfect sonto his aging but still attractive single mom. His Dad, the secularhumanist who presents the call that our protagonist mustanswer, rings hollow, in character design andpresentation. But like I said, its clunky, but

functional. Theres enough there to keep you along forthe ride. One of the main issues here for me is the tone.Taylors opening is a bit too clich and tongue-and-cheekin its depiction of church life. A misstep Miller carefullyavoided in his book, and part of what made it so great:honesty. For better and for worse.

Nevertheless, the story does grow feet. After he discovers adisturbing secret that disrupts his status quo, Millerescapes to Reed College, one of the most hedonistic,politically active, intellectual student bodies in the Pacic

Northwest. After he severs afliation from his formerreligious life, Miller embarks on a harrowing journey ofpartying, politically motivated vandalism, lesbianappreciation, and girl-chasing. More than most SouthernBaptists could stomach, I dare say.

The arc is imperfect. Penny is annoyingly trite (why mustgood Christian girls always be so frigid?). Yet somehow, itstill works. It does. And I daresay youll like it!

There is a thread underneath the lm that was takendirectly from the book,it surfaces briey from time to time, when we see how shallow rebellion is.

When we see the ugly behind cynicism. But the deep and profound power lurk-ing under the soft outer shell of Blue Like Jazz is in the fall to repentance.Millers resolution truly is lovely. The journey may have been a little too easy.The tone a touch soft. But the resolution is so lovely.

In fact, I found myself gazing at the absolute beauty of a Christian with a peni-tent heart (there should be no other kind). The contrite heart. A lovely third

act denouement, not to be missed.

Well done, Steve Taylor. Im sorry I thought of you as a moldy battle axe. Youare anything but. BTW, the soundtrack was awesome.

Blue Like Jazz is now playing in theaters near you

Joshua Russell is a multi award-winning lmmaker,

Instructor at DePaul Universitys School of Digital

Cinema and Film Critic for Metatron Magazine.

[email protected]



summer working from sunup to sundowntending to the plants and plots of earthin order to provide local food to theneighbors and local farmers market.

As a musician, Mark leads the music at

his church, performs with friends at anannual Johnny Cash event, and puts onhouse shows for friends and neighborsin a band called The Neighborhood

when the opportunities arise. Theyaffectionatelyreference Mr. Rogers

who hailed fromPittsburgh.

Marks musicis powerful. It

transports you. Hisvoice is shockinglypowerful. When he

begins singing, youare immediatelyengaged, but hethen takes his voiceto the next level,losing all inhibition.I have never heard

music that takes me out to the eldssomewhere in the south a hundred

years ago as much as his does. Hesings about a world where life is hard,

but God is good. His lyrics referencetrains as a mode of escape, not only

physically, but into eternity. Hismusic makes you feel like the worldis a beautiful place where there ispotential for goodchildren arepicking orange cherry tomatoes off

the vine and old folksare playing banjosand mandolins.So I asked Mark

where this musiccomes fromhow

he gets inspired,and I was shockedby his answer. Heexplained, Thesongs often come

when I am goingthrough somethingdifcult or I amup late. I struggleso much withdepression, and

many of the songs I write are really hopeful and idealistic.

At rst, I thought that I had not heard him correctly. But he went on to elaborate,sharing that he is responsible for envisioning and carrying out lofty idealistic

visions at his church and his job. It is hard not to notice how often the reality isso far from what he and those around him are imagining. On top of that, he hasa wife and two children relying on him at home, heightening the potential to feellike a failure, not only as a visionary and laborer, but as a husband and father. Hesummed it by saying that he often nds himself asleep on the couch.

Personally, this was beyond eye-opening. I idealize Mark and Courtneys lives

because they are living out the dreamthey are living the way life was meant to belived, or at least far closer to it than anyone else I know. Mark himself describedthis ideal as, Living simply, growing your own food, making music, loving peoplethat you are close to. If everyone followed suit, I think the world would be a far

better place. It was bizarre, then, listening to him describe the feeling that he is asocietal freeloader when maybe he should be making lots of money in the freemarket so he can just support himself as a musician.

Mark performed a house show for us recently. Before performing the rst song,he told us about some of the children he teaches through the Pittsburgh Project.He teaches them ecology and gardening and canning, among other things, but hehas realized that before he can teach them to take care of the earth or how to canpickles, he has to teach them that they are loved, because many of these childrenare not getting that message at home. The rst song Mark sang, then, had the

(cont. from pg 11)


15/20

repeating (and very catchy) line, Aint nobody that the Lord dont love!

A little later, Mark told us about one of his favorite students, a girl who would tell allthe other kids to shut up and pay attention to Mark during class. Her mother and

brothers were involved in gangs and drugs, but she and her twin sister were not. Herdad would bring her to church. One day she died in a drive-by shooting. Some men

who were angry at her mother or brothers or someone in her family decided to shootup her home, and she was the only one to die. After the weekend, Mark returned

to the ecology class where she was missing. After Mark told this story, I began tounderstand what he meant when he said that not all of the kids were getting themessage that they were loved at home.

I began to get a more realistic idea of Marks depression. He is living on publicassistance and working for a oundering organization and making very little moneydoing so, because he believes in helping these children. Music is his passion and hisgift to the world, but he doesnt have the time or the resources to make it a priority,especially when he is surrounded by so many people in need, not only of love andeducation, but an escape from poverty.

Mark and Courtney are not quick to elaborate on the darkness with which they are

surroundedit is something real for them, but it is so far from most of our shelteredrealities. I think it almost feels cheap talking about their experiences, because theydont want us in our own wealthy worlds to romanticize them as heroes in some sick

way. The people, living and dead, with whom they are surrounded, are real.

Mark and Courtney told me stories of numerous peopleyouthgetting shot andkilled in their neighborhood. Courtney described pressing on the bullet wound in the

back of a huge man as she held him and tried to convince him that it was a good ideato call the police. Mark described how one of his best employees, Anthony, would takegardening breaks to quietly meet with his gang members. This particular individualended up getting convicted after killing a local, beloved shop owner in an attempted

robbery. When he was put in prison, he ended up on the same oor as murderer of thegirl who had been killed in the drive-by shooting. Turns out, she had been his cousin.Mark had led a small devotional with this young man and a couple others, but he lostfaith in the endeavor after Anthony killed the shopkeeper. But not all had been lost.They received a letter from prison in which Anthony told about realizing he was onthe same oor as the killer. At rst, his plan was retaliation, but he ultimately decidedto try forgiveness.

Marks music is a cry to God from the depths of poverty and dreamless, hopeless lives.He has captured hope and transcendence with his songs, even as he himself is losingfaith in a vision that does not seem to be making a difference.

In addition to running a farm with his family, Mark has a dream of communitysupported music. Mark explains, One thing we starteddoing at the non-prot is offering CSA shares. This is a greatmodel with agriculture, but I bet you could do it with musictoo. Just as individuals and families buy into communitysupported agriculture (CSAs), they would buy a share in hisart. He would perform shows for the community membersduring the year and they would have access to all of hisrecorded music.

Mark has tons of music waiting to be recorded, and he is currently working onreleasing another CD, though he is not sure if people still use CDs. I assured him theydo. I think. I know my sister would take one.

Metatron May 2012 15

Words of wisdom answers

1.I, Albert Einstein 2.B, Leo Tolstoy 3.E, Mother Teresa 4.H, Harriet Tubman5.C, Dalai Llama 6.F, Mahatma Gandhi 7.A, Sojourner Truth 8.G, Joan of Arc 9.D, Martin Luther King



Two of the four headsare broken. The ring itself issound. What size diamond did

you have in mind? He doesntknow. He cant remember. Its

been forty years since heborrowed Joe Wozniaks beater

and drove from the base todowntown Honolulu. He spenthalf a years salary and had

been happy to do it. I dontknow, he says. What do yourecommend? He detects afaint gleam in the womans eyeand realizes that he needs to

be more specic. When he tellsher his budget, her face loses its

expectancy. Let me see what Ican do.The stone she returns

with approximates the head of apin. Shame oods him. The tinyprick of light glistening on aplush velvet cushion, when heldclose to his clouded eyes, looksentirely insignicant in this pal-ace of treasures. Do you wantit? the woman asks.

Do you have anythinglarger?

Not at that price. Unlessyou want a lower quality stone.

Show meHe can see no differ-

ence between the two stones,one nearly twice the size of theother. For the second time in

Ripe Fire presents

GRIP. A new work from

Nathan Beauchamp

In the depths of the lacquered, cherryjewelry box he searches through a dusty heap ofjewelry: Sterling silver loops purchased at ea

markets; an amethyst suspended from athin chain; a fat pile of pearls the color of glisten-ing milk; a tarnished pendant green with age.Beneath all of these he nds the white-gold band

missing its stone. It sits nearly weightless in thepalm of his hand. He closes his wrinkled ngersaround it tightly, afraid that that his arthriticgrip will fail him, the ring tumbling on to the car-peting where he will never nd it again. Even thethick glass of the bifocals cannot turn the blur ofcataracts to clarity.

Through the window of the northboundEl looms the steel mass of the ballpark whichreplaced Comiskey. He knows its named aftersome soulless corporate entity but cant remem-

ber which. The train stops and a stream of peoplewedge into the car. The seats ll to capacity andthe remaining passengers grip the stainless steelframes around the doors for balance. Knuckles

whiten as the El accelerates, the city splayed outbefore them like a vision of the future. The pressof the bodies, the intense noise of voices and jos-tlinghe feels a sense of disorientation, and if heis honest with himself, fear. His hand buried deepin his trouser pocket squeezes the ring as though

thieves and pick-pockets stalk him, knowing hecarries a great treasure.

Scrap? asks a saleswoman, appearingporcine in a too-tight red dress. Resting in thecrease of his hand the ring appears shabby underthe bright, warm lights of the jewelry store. Traf-c speeds past on Wabash. Its started to rain.

Scrap? he asks, incredulous.Well I assumed. . . The setting is broken

and missing the stone.

Its not scrap. I want it repaired. Thewoman reaches for the ring and he forces himselfto let her take it. She examines it expertly, hereye large, wet, and luminous behind a jewelersloupe. A moment later:



his life hes bankrupting himself fora ring. When will it be ready? heasks after handing the woman hisdebit card.

Not too long. Probably threeweeks.

Three weeks? Again, hesincredulous.

Sir, were very busy.I need it much sooner than

that.Rush orders cost ten per-

cent more. If you want it rushed wecan have it ready in three days. Hedoes internal arithmetic. If he skipsMondays breakfasts at EllisonsGrill, if he avoids driving except forhis physical therapy, if he forgoesgroceries and lives off the frozenentrees stuffed in the deep freeze;he decides he can manage.

Three days later he retrievesthe ring and boards the El, thistime exiting at Clark and Lake andtransferring to the Green Line.He walks awkwardly, slowly, handshaking inside his jacket pocket ashe grips the red velvet enclosure.Thirty minutes later, out of breath,he stands in an anesthetized hos-pital corridor trying to remember

the room number. Purposeful menand women in white jackets and

blue scrubs rush past. He peersinto each room, the unsettling feel-ing he has come to the wrong oorsubmerging into a terrible fear

that hes too late. That one of the crackling,indecipherable messages from an overheadspeaker signals her departure.

Can I help you? A small, darkskinned Indian woman smiles up at him.

She runs a hand tipped with red nail polishthrough her dark hair. Her name tag readsChandani.

I cant nd my wife.Is she a patient?Yes.Chandani leads him to a computer

screen. Shes been moved up a oor. Ill takeyou there.

They step out of the elevator and thegirl leads him under brilliant lights until

they stand in the entryway of hospital roomwhich smells faintly of the white lilies sittingin the window. Asleep, the woman in the beddoesnt notice when he sits down next to her.Gently he lifts her wrinkled hand and easilyslides her wedding band off her skeletal n-ger. He opens the velvet box and removes thering. He waits for his hand to steady, for theopening of the ring to line up with her nger,and then slides it into place. Her eyes open.

She looks rst at his face and then down atthe restored engagement ring. Wordless, shetakes his hand in her own, ngers suddenlystrong, her eyes alive for the rst time inmonths.

She smiles at him and they sit togetherfor a very long time, examining the diamond:Not as brilliant as the original but still a twin-kling, refractor of light.

Nathan Beauchamp is a gifted writer with a pen-chant for detailed, colorfully descriptive prose.

Check out more of his workat

nmbeauchamp.com


18/20

GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVEGIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVEGIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE

GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVEGIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVEGIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVEGIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVEGIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVEGIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE

GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVEGIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVEGIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVEGIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVEGIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVEGIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVEGIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVEGIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVEGIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVEGIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVEGIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE

GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVEGIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVEGIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVEGIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVEGIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVEGIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE

GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVEGIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE GIVE

LOVE

18 Metatron May 2012


19/20

A promise is a promise.

If a person says he or she will do something, it is usually not cause totake it to the bank. At times we are very cautious of one anothers promises

and hold them with an open hand. This is not wrong. Circumstances ariseevery day that prevent people with great integrity from doing what they saidthey would. It is not a reason to not trust each other. But it is all the more rea-son to learn to trust God rst and foremost. He is unseen but loves us in sucha way that He doesnt mind being leaned upon for support. You can take His

promises to the bank, because they are more rm and solid than anything thatwe CAN see in this world. We all have dreams and expectations of a greaterfuture. These awesome exploits cant happen without the risk that only comesfrom trusting in the One who is trustworthy above all. When Jesus said, I

will never leave you nor forsake you, he meant it. Since the world is

not over, have no fear; dare to dream and pursue. This world needs you. Afterall, a promise is a promise..

bam!

Creative DirectorNathan Bam Bam Stanton

Metatron May 2012 19


20/20

Ripe Fire

MiracleshoutIm(age)

Golden Notes

Words of WisdomNew Silver

For our God is a consuming re.

-Hebrews 12:29

Documents

Metatron Mag May 2012