Me, God and boobs…

In addition to our Vicar School weekends, once a year we head off on a weekend retreat. We have some choice in which group or location we end up in. Some did icons in East Sussex; others stayed silent with Benedictines in Leicestershire; I ended up doing finger painting for God in Yorkshire. I jest – it was a Creative Arts retreat.

I’m a big fan of creativity, especially when paint – specifically metallic paint – is added into the mix. It was also a great group of people combined with a beautiful location. Good times.

Inevitably I’ve returned home with a folder of works that would make my mother’s fridge proud, whose quality varies considerably. By far, my favourite is my first piece (the only one that came close to fulfilling the optional directions of the session), which I chose to tweet on Saturday during a rare moment of 3G reception.

While working on it, a couple of guys commented on that gold/bronze circle in the centre, likening it to a part of female anatomy. Immediately after tweeting it, I got this response from my sister:
“Are you aware that you ‘created’ a massive boob?”

Thanks. Way to go ruining a piece of spiritual reflection! Little did I know that down in East Sussex, a small group of trainee vicars saw the tweet and immediately made the boob connection – so amused were they that this morning at Vicar School I was greeted with “I liked your boob!”. Tres amusant. In my defence, this was never my intention.

In case you think all we did was create crass art, check out this masterpiece:

Needless to say, that’s not my work. Turns out one of number did a degree in contextual art in a past life – he kept that quiet…