By MARIANNE WOOD Preface Sometimes, I return to complete paintings I previously thought finished. This column, as you will quickly see, is like that. I’ve come back to review an inkling of understanding in a new light, discovering a more profound truth that I began learning one Sunday morning many years ago. The Story I feel like I’ve been to

By MARIANNE WOOD At the direction of my employer, Bill Wright, I drove to San Angelo, Texas, one bright sunny morning to get the final interview for a book about Celia Ann Hill called Headn’ West. Her pal, Maxine Acton Cox, had yet to weigh in on the story. So just before lunchtime on September 18, 2019, I interviewed cowgirl and

By MARIANNE WOOD Surely you have “seen” Snoopy or Santa in the clouds. Or a weird animal superimposed on the face of a rock. Rorschach inkblot tests allow you to imagine things, too. So you’ll probably want to know that I regularly see a drawing of a bird with antlers in my bathroom flooring. I love the activity of letting

By MARIANNE WOOD A painting that I encountered at The Kimbell Art Museum in Fort Worth when I was teaching AP Art History gave me a new perspective on the power of art. And with it came a renewed sense of God’s care for me as an artist and art appreciator. I’d seen this work in books and online, but

By MARIANNE Wood I’ve arrived at that age: the comfort-first stage.  A long time ago, creamy white leather pumps completed my wedding ensemble, though they proved too tippy for continued use after that special day. I briefly wore a pair of really high-heeled Bandolinos. Gee, they were pretty. And they made me feel that way. And always a fan of

By MARIANNE WOOD Recently, a friend shared a long list of challenges from the past year. I know some of you could do likewise. I could, too. But while making lists of trials and disappointments can be cathartic, the optimist in me tries to live up to Greer Garson’s injunction to tilt the mirror up “toward the cheerful, the tender,

By MARIANNE WOOD Perhaps you know the sticky note story. These ubiquitous and often colorful bits of notepaper come in many shapes and sizes. Once, they were only pale yellow rectangles. Envisioned by 3M chemical engineer Art Fry in 1974 as his mind wandered during a sermon, Art was inspired to create the notes that would not leave a trace

By MARIANNE WOOD I feel moved every time I recall the Amish farmer in the Reading Terminal Market in Philadelphia one Thanksgiving week. He sold me ten deep red leather candy canes with bells held on brass rings. I gave the sets of bells to friends that year for Christmas. I love their tinkling sound and the memory that follows.

By MARIANNE WOOD Christians in the Visual Arts, or CIVA, held its biennial conference in Austin this past week with the theme “transcendence.” Since our calendars were clear and this event was nearby, my friend, Sue Wood (no relation), and I signed up and packed our bags. We went in need of artistic nourishment, inspiration, and a desire to deepen