IF I WAS ART… ———- JIM PECHA, B.ARCH., CHRISTIAN ARTIST, MINISTER OF CREATIVITY, copyright 2013 —— If I was art I would be abstract expressionism, I would walk along yellow and red canyon walls, under a blue sky and walk on multicolored sand, Oh wait, I am doing that, it’s New Mexico.


THE BREEZE ——-   JIM PECHA, B.ARCH., CHRISTIAN ARTIST, MINISTER OF CREATIVITY, copyright 2012 ——-   I feel the breeze that I see moving the pine needles above me,   one moment I’m in the light, the next I’m not, depending on the movement of the branches of the tree,   the forces of God … Continue reading


I saw a stream flowing down the mountain side with little waterfalls over rocks and fallen branches. Pine needles and leaves were soft underfoot as I walked under the shade of the evergreens, a squirrel ran up a tree. I watched the water trickle over shiny stones and I picked up one that was red, … Continue reading


At the bottom of the deep red canyon, feelings, enclosed, trapped, but slow-moving cool water flowing past fall cottonwood trees to walk beside. Sounds and movements in the nearby bushes cause concern. Quiet, except for the little sounds of the stream nearby. A hawk circles overhead in the clear blue sky, high above the canyon … Continue reading

We exist

We exist and see beauty as we walk the earth, earthen forms that breath and nurture. We exist and smell the fragrances of moist pedals, earthen paths through sensuous forests. We exist and feel the soft textures of her hair, earthen desires fill my soul. We exist and sense the spirit close at hand, earthen … Continue reading

New Mexico – once

Jim Pecha, B. Arch., Christian Artist, Minister of Creativity, copyright 2012 ————————– Red sandstone rough, clear blue skies, yellow stratification¬†of dust. Her hand reaches for water between rocks of granite, naked, nurturing woman. Red cactus spines, mesas and chamisas, running after rabbits, her sunken abdomen of hunger. Distant green mountains. Painted pots with purple clay, … Continue reading

Van Gogh Skies

Van Gogh skies swirling among New Mexico cumulus clouds and adobe buttresses on a hot summer’s day with a sad-faced girl in partial shade of a pinon tree, I saw as I sped by. I probably projected onto¬† her my many years of gloom. The sun was warm and bright on my hand as it … Continue reading