These are salt dishes I made for a company in Montreal with which I fell in love as I was strolling along the Plateau district. The store sold nothing but things which had been infused with the fragrance and oils of flowers.
Salts (like those pictured) and sugars, oils and cloth, spreads and teas were all infused with jasmine, lavender, rose. The owners sat down with me over rose tea with scones which came with rose salted butter and we talked about how pottery might set off the products. It was a dreamy day. The following week I made nothing but hundreds of spice dishes. We never sold them in the shop. I ended up giving them away to friends. But the plotting and planning were fun.
We often wonder, I think, what the Holy Spirit is. As good Anglicans, we never discuss it of course. We simply secretly wonder. We wonder if it is all bunk made up by over-caffeinated middle-easterners who were looking for a theological way to imagine inspiration. Or we wonder if the Holy Spirit is male or as female as Hagia Sophia. We use red and wind and fire as symbols because they are easy to depict and the whole conversation so freaks us out that we would rather, I think, just get on to chatting about something clear like a sin and crucifixion.
But I think the Holy Spirit not only teaches us about God, eschatology, perichoresis and moves us to do good and kind thing. She also, a bit like Tinkerbell, taps us with a wand when we see salt sitting in one bowl and roses sitting on the counter nearby. She whispers…gently…”what new thing could happen here?” The question is NOT if the Holy Spirit is saying deeply theological things. The question is if the Holy Spirit is whispering lovely, wildly creative, beautiful things all the time …ALL THE TIME… and if we can hear her. She is an expert in differentiating between glamor and beauty – of that I am sure.