In the fall of 1996, I made an 8-day retreat with Fr. Jim Hanley, S.J. at El Retiro in Los Altos. Actually, my superior at the time, Fr. Dick Cobb, S.J. set the retreat up for me. He wisely perceived long before I did that the “every sophomore’s favorite Jesuit” was slowly falling apart inside. I had not made a good, prayerful retreat in a several years (too busy being “beloved and popular” to root myself in Love.)

Anyway, on the retreat, Jim gave me Henri Nouwen’s little book on Rembrandt’s painting of the Prodigal Son. I never finished it, but I did get a little lost in the story. Stumbling upon word after word. And, using a set of watercolors that I brought with me, I started to paint. Not sets. Not backdrops. Just simple, little watercolors. That were mine.

I ended up doing about 20 quick “sketches in paint.” This is one of them. Over the next few years, I thought a lot about that black dot. Somehow it was me. Wanting more. Wanting color. Wanting Out.

It takes time. And grace.