Sharinghula

The art of decorating and the art of creating sacred space start with the same elements, according to Mary Groves.7 As codirector of the Sacred Art of Living Center in Bend, Oregon, Groves is intimately involved with planning the ambience of programs and presentations as well as content. “Both decor and sacred space involve beautiful items,” she says. Both involve the use of color themes, fabrics, live plants, birds, or fish—and design, the manner in which they’re put together—to change a room.”
After completing an interior decorating course earlier in her life, Groves realized that the only people who could afford her service would be the wealthy. She says that idea turned her off:
“I wanted to do this for people who shop atWal-Mart. I wanted to go into somebody’s home and help them rearrange what they’ve already got.”
Working for years with Hospice, Groves realized by visiting people’s homes as a volunteer and bereavement coordinator that beyond the way a home is decorated, everyone has altars in their living spaces. We all display things that are important to us,” she says. Groves realized that the element of s/gnificance is what makes them not just decorations, but sacred objects. ‘Rather than putting my collection of mementos ortrophies on this shelf because I’m proud of them,” Groves says, ‘I recognize it’s more than thatThese things represent a lot of energy that I’ve put into Iife.They stand for who I am.The intention with which I place them make them more than just something to look at.They become an extension of me, an expression of my soul.”
Groves now creates altars and sacred spaces for educational workshop environments—the Art of Spiritual Discernment, the Sacred Art of Dying, and Taize Vespers worship, an interfaith prayer service. My belief is that all things are sacred,” she says. What we do with them either depletes us or inspires us to live in a better way.” Groves’s interior settings create a sense of God’s presence as well as beautiful backdrops that become centers of spiritual focus.
How might you transform the interior decoration in your home into sacred space? How might you create altars to God through your home?
• Pay attention to light, arrangement, and symbolism. An altar can be set up anywhere. It may even be carried with you in a
small box. just a little candle placed with care on a desk can transform practical space to a place of prayer
• Altars are made when you carefully arrange photographs of people you love or miss, items that represent places you’ve been, objects in which you’ve invested energy, colors that
have a particular significance.These may change the emotive
content of a room.
As Groves says, An altar is nothing more than a place to remember someone or something that is important to you.” It is a place to inspire you to live on and to live well.

In decor a fundamentally sensual response is at work with the spiritual. I found myself bringing earthy things into my home:
terra-cotta, iron, pebbles smoothed by river water, beach stones pocked by organisms and waves, spice-colored things like the red cinder on the roads where I live. I wouldn’t trade anything (anything!)—even convenience—for wood heat and firelight. If I buy jewelry, it is usually garnet and amber. I decorate with these too, hanging necklaces on pretty hooks or heaping bracelets in a crystal dish. Whenever something in a shade of blue was brought into my home, I found myself moving it around, then moving it out. Recognizing this pattern helped me learn more about myself
I read that some people need to be cooled down, others to be warmed up. I discovered that fire represents creativity while water represents activity and movement. Pinks and reds have long been associated with femininity, and blues with masculinity Investigating further, I recognized at last that having lived so long in a household of females (including all their female friends coming and going), my home harbors a lot of female energy—possibly an overload. Watching a random Home and Garden TV program, I learned that blues and the color black must be used to anchor reds. Now I’ve planted such anchors in my living spaces: a dark blue throw over the sofa, a carpet incorporating dark blue triangles with burgundies, a blue satin housecoat on the wall in my bedroom.
My goal is to create an artful journal of place and history in my home. That does not mean a “pulled together” decor that communicates a particular style or offers a coherent look. Flaws let in light. Imperfections and all, my home will reflect that which is most meaningftil for me, peace and a lively sense of fun. Why not have both? Home is where you live the life you really want, says Jane Alexander, author of Spirit of the Home. There are no perfect lives and there are no perfect homes, she explains, concluding that a home is made numinous by the love and feeling we invest in it.5
Frank Lloyd Wright believed that architecture is the master art form, and he reinvented it according to his own vision. Designing and building 769 buildings in his lifetime, both monumental and intimate, Wright saw that the space where people live would make the people who inhabit it different. He sometimes stipulated interior design for his homes as well, right down to where each table and chair should be placed.
Wright’s view of art was described by historian William Cronon:
“An artist . . . transforms nature by looking at nature, passing it through the soul, and in the expression… something more natural emerges. Which is as close as we get to God.”6
Indeed. Our homes and the sacred art of living in them are a link between heaven and earth. Invite God in.

A glimpse into a couple of pages of my three-dimensional scrapbook reflects recent changes in my life:
• I found that I preferred furniture to be arranged at diagonals. Afterward I read that doing so is an antidote to disharmony collecting in corners. (Does that mean I’m doing the right thing, or that I should work on the disharmony in my home? This has become an interesting question for me to ponder and may lead to more changes.)
• I had a delightfully animated goldfish for years—until he leap to his death one day. Since then, without conscious connection to the goldfish, I played with the idea of painting my front door red. I read that according to feng shui, the ancient art of “placement,” a goldfish or a red door invites prosperity Wouldn’t that be nice?
• Ever since I can remember, my shelves have served as little altars where I place icons like the lava rock from my hike to the top of Black Crater or mosaic pieces picked up along the Apian ‘Way near Caesarea. Recently I learned that rocks and stones are elemental symbols of Saint Patrick’s Celtic Christianity.

The mysteries always teach us to combine the holy with
the profane,” theologian Martin Buber said. That same insight is expressed in another way—doctrine without
jargon—by decorator Elsie de Wolfe. An attitude toward home interiors like Dc Wolfe’s enhances our sense of the holy to ground our busy, fragmented lives. When we incorporate visual elements in our home that spring from our desire to worship, we express spirituality in the raw stuff of life.
Your decor may be inspired by high-church environments that feature rich color, ornament, and embellishment. Or it may be inspired by minimalist congregations where neutral colors, sheer light from transparent windows, and plain furniture facilitate simplicity. It may be inspired by nature, particularly the celestial realm as filtered through the heritage ofJudeo-Christian tradition: stars, sun, clouds.
However you combine the sacred with the ordinary will keep the flame burning on the hearth of your dream home.
“Color is the first thing we respond to when entering a room, the most powerful decorating tool, because it affects how we feel,” according to designer Gail Mayhugh.’
Marketing analysts claim also that color is a tool of communication. Since color can actually shape mood and biological responses, it greatly affects the sacred possibilities in our homes. Much like scent, memories are attached to different colors; individual color preferences are often based on our own experience of emotions associated with places or events.2
In the twenty-first century, consumers seek healing colors— colors that create soulful feelings, even down to the rejuvenating hues chosen for bath towels. For the new millennium, the Color Marketing Group predicted earth tones and shades of water and sky would predominate in response to consumers’ interest in spiritual things. At its dawn, true red, the color of religious iconography, was most popular, possibly in connection with the anniversary of Christ’s birth celebrated around the globe. Deeper reds, burnt reds, and bluish reds came soon after, symbols of connection to regal heritage as children of God and to the creation. Purples and blues were popular as soothing colors. They make visible transcendence, cleansing, and clarity. The light we love in white brings a tie to purity and emotional comfort. Subtle browns make their way into the earthy palette with names like “biscotti” and “mocha,” inspired by the popularity of coffeehouse hot spots—substituting for some the fellowship previous generations found in church.