Category: Personal History

A Living Room Church

A Living Room Church

A personal memory about beginnings, community, and what history sometimes forgets.

Whimsical ink and watercolor drawing with a cross, house-like forms, curling vines, small figures, and a soft blue-violet wash suggesting shelter, spirit, and community.
**Dr. Seuss’s Heaven** — A tribute to Dr. Seuss, mixed media on paper, 2005 (approx. 6 × 9 in.) — A small drawing about the rhythm of life

 

There are stories that get polished over time, and stories that quietly disappear.

I’ve carried one of those quieter stories for years.

Long before MCC became what it is in Minnesota, there was a small gathering of us — a core group of gay men and friends trying to build spiritual community when such spaces were rare.

The original services were held in our living room on the 3400 block of Pillsbury Avenue South in Minneapolis.

Word spread by mouth. People came. We worshiped weekly. There were picnics, gatherings, friendship, and a real sense that something important was being born. The worship had a Catholic tone. It was heartfelt, searching, and deeply communal.

There were many involved — names I remember, and names I’ve lost — but I remember the spirit clearly.

Then life moved on. Michael and I joined the Air Force, and I was stationed in California. MCC continued to grow. It moved beyond our living room, then into other spaces, eventually finding a home at the Minneapolis Friends Meeting House.

That was also how I first encountered Quakerism — another thread that would shape my life.

I’ll admit: over the years I sometimes felt forgotten, as though those early beginnings had faded from memory. But memory is a tricky thing. Institutions grow, stories simplify, and humble beginnings can disappear into history.

What remains for me is gratitude that I got to witness — and in some small way help hold — the beginning of something that mattered.

And I was deeply happy to see it grow.

June 1–Can you imagine that?

Long shadows stretch across a tiled floor from unseen figures and window light, creating a quiet, haunting image suggestive of memory, absence, and presence.
Photo: One of my shadow pieces from grad school. Still poignant — Pride, AIDS, the 80s, the 90s. We are but shadows that linger.

This is an older shadow photography piece that I submitted for GLBT Pride 2006. A little dark, but it is one of my favorites. This last week I’ve been updating my online material. Perhaps I should be creating more art… but it is important to at least document a bit along the way. The information contained here may not be particularly insightful; it is only a gay man journaling some of his feelings in a very open forum. I am appreciative of life and all that it brings, but gratitude slips away now and then. That is sad.

I cannot believe how fortunate we are. Our lifestyle is beyond most of the world’s inhabitants’ imagination. I know my remaining time is short. I spend most of my time documenting the small things — the things one passes by without noticing. That is why you see so many shadows photographed in my work. What is more ignored than they are? What one might think of as totally benign is not. That is the point. That is the point of my art.

Vision, smell, and the rest of our senses are a miracle. Ick! Miracle — I really hate that word because it implies a God. Whether or not they are God-given is moot. That is not the point of the work. My work is about the ordinary. The ability to experience… to reason… is beyond what might be expected in this universe, and we get to. We get to. Pretty amazing.

Oak’s Shadow @ MCAD—Oct 20, 2005

Waiting for the sun… having a good time today. I’m working on the animation for my final project, “The Grinder.” It is going well, but I needed a bit of a break. So here I am.

Shadow of a large oak tree cast across a building at MCAD in the morning sun.
Oak’s Shadow @ MCAD, October 20, 2005
Photo by Bill Hendricks

I certainly don’t get tired of taking photos. I took this image on the morning of October 20, before I started drawing.

I worked on the drawing again yesterday, but it got very cloudy, so I had to quit at noon. I’m hoping to resume on Tuesday or Wednesday. The weather doesn’t look like it will cooperate until then. Bummer.

Everything seems to be moving toward the same thing now—finishing my thesis work, getting ready for the graduate show, and completing my MFA. There is still plenty to do.

For today, I hope to finish my animation.