Friday, February 3, 2012


It has been nearly a year since I posted anything substantive on this blog. It has been hard to collect my thoughts and to put much into writing. The loss of our baby last February changed a lot in both my wife and me. It brought us tremendous sorrow, more than either of us could have imagined. But it also brought with it God's grace. In losing our child, we grew closer to each other and closer to God. We learned so much about each other, and helped each other in our weakest moments. With almost a year since then, we can thank God for the little bit of time we had with our Benjamin, we can thank God for bringing us together and giving us strength through one another, and we can thank God for taking care of our baby in His heavenly kingdom. We even ask that if he has found favor in God's sight that our son may pray for us.

We also ask that he pray for his baby brother who is just a few weeks from being born. It was difficult to risk putting our hearts on the chopping block again, but we knew that the desire to bring a new life into our lives had not gone away. He has been such a blessing to us. At our first ultrasound, we went into the doctor's office hoping that we would not be heartbroken when we left. What we saw was a baby full of life and anxious to set his parents' hearts at ease. Like St. John the Forerunner, he leapt in his mother's womb. We have so loved going through the various stages of pregnancy and marveling at this little life forming. Our priest gave us a vial of oil from St. John the Wonderworker with which I anoint my wife and my baby every day. We ask for his intercession for our son and thank God for each moment we have with him.



We have been blessed by God both in adversity and in joy over the past year. Through both we have learned the value of serving and loving others. We learned this first through serving and loving each other in our loss. In this past year, we were also given an opportunity to serve and love others in an even greater capacity. On November 13, I was ordained to the Diaconate by His Eminence Archbishop Kyrill of San Francisco. I am so happy to be able to minister to my parish as a Deacon, and to be able to serve others as I have been served by others. Our priest was so helpful in our loss, and I learned how important it is to have the prayers, understanding, and compassion of others. I only hope that I can help give that to others.

My wife and I have been so pleased with the additional Liturgies we had in the forty days after my ordination. To be partaking of the Eucharist more often, to be exposing our son to the music and chanting and the grace in our Liturgy as he is being formed in the womb has been so comforting. We are thankful to all those who prayed for us and continue to pray for us. We are thankful for the intercessions of St. John the Wonderworker, St. Seraphim of Sarov (whose parish I serve)and all the Saints. We are thankful that God has blessed us with this new life, and a new ministry. We are thankful for each other and for the love and support of family and friends.

Friday, July 8, 2011

New Book On Icons



So after months of work, and the last week of constant work, the new edition of my blurb book is done. Please check out the preview and order one (or several if you are so inclined) or forward the information to anyone you think might be interested.

Monday, March 7, 2011

Memory Eternal


Just over three weeks ago, Saturday February 12, the weather in Boise was beautiful. It was unseasonably warm and the sun was shining. My wife and I were one day away from celebrating the two year anniversary of having met in person. But it was the ugliest day of my life. We were losing our baby.

About a month earlier, we had learned that we were going to have a baby. We were excited, anxious, nervous, and terrified, but most of all we were thankful to God for such a wonderful blessing in our lives. We started to prepare ourselves in earnest for the arrival of our child. Unable to keep such great news to ourselves, we called friends and family members. I refrained from yelling it from the rooftops, but only just barely.

In one of the many books about pregnancy, we read that the baby was about the size of a grain of rice. We started to refer to our child as "Uncle Ben." After about a week or two of calling the baby by that nickname, we had decided that we really liked the name Benjamin for a boy (we had settled on Juliana for a girl since that was the saint of the day when we first went to the church after finding out that we were expecting).

We fell in love with our baby. Our life became one of preparation. It became baby-centric. And on that warm February morning, the center of that baby-centric life left us.

There was a time in my life when I thought that a miscarriage was not a big deal. I always assumed that you didn't really fall in love with your baby until you saw your baby or held him in your arms. Without that new-baby smell, the cute little fingers and toes, the adorable little sound they make, what is there to love except fatigue, discomfort or morning sickness? I know now that a child who has not been born yet is one of infinite possibilities. My wife and I lost our son and our daughter. We lost a child who had the best qualities of both of us and none of the bad qualities of either of us. Our baby was beautiful, smart, funny, caring, loving, godly, and yet humble. Our child was all these things because they are a child of potential. As foolish as it may seem, you start living your child's life in your imagination, you anticipate all the wonderful moments. There is a reason why we like to think about our child's wedding day, and not their first car crash or head wound. We want all the best for our children.

I miss my child. I miss talking to Uncle Ben, even though he couldn't hear me yet. I have cried more for the loss of my baby than for any other loss I have suffered in my life. I have learned that the grief associated with miscarriage is profound, but seldom understood by others. Several people have since told me that they lost a child to miscarriage. In most cases, I never knew about their loss. I can't help but think it is because so many people don't want to hear about it. People tell you that it happens all the time and is no big deal. They tell you to try again or move on, and eventually you don't want to tell people because it is easier to suffer in silence. But I don't want to pretend like my baby never existed.

My wife and I named our baby Benjamin. We don't know whether our child was a boy or a girl, but we wanted to name our baby so that we could pray for him and remember him as a person. I painted the icon of the Holy Patriarch Benjamin at the top of this post to keep in our icon corner as a remembrance of our first baby. Though the baby's name started as a bit of a joke, I find it such a fitting name. The Patriarch Jacob had two favorite sons, Joseph and Benjamin, the sons of his beloved wife Rachel. When Joseph was sold into slavery, Benjamin remained. Jacob's love for his son Benjamin was so strong, that he couldn't bear the thought of parting with him even if it was necessary to save his people. And yet he had no choice but to let Benjamin go. In doing so, they were saved. I pray that this loss will be for my salvation and for the salvation of my wife, but I will forever remember my beloved child, and cherish the few memories that we have.

Monday, December 27, 2010

From a Name Synonymous With Christian Iconography

What makes an icon holy? Surely it can't be the iconographer. Speaking for myself, I often fail in my spiritual life. At times I really try, and at other times I struggle to make even a small effort to live a life of holiness. From my conversations with other iconographers, I know that this is a common problem, which should not be surprising since most of us live our lives this way.

So if the work of the iconographer doesn't impart holiness to the icon, what then makes it holy? Surely it must be the image itself. The image reflects the prototype, and gives us a glimpse of the holiness of the person depicted. Most of us have many icons that are mounted prints. This is permissible because the image still reflects the prototype. It needs no iconographer to recreate the image because the iconographer imparts no actual holiness to the image anyway. Sure you need a few iconographers to create the images to be reproduced, but a photographic print is just as holy, just as real as a hand-painted icon. And since so many of us can't afford the cost of hand-painted icons, we are very fortunate that the mounted print is just as holy.

But what if you could have a hand-painted icon for the same cost as a mounted print? This morning I got an email from Shiva International based out of India. As you can no doubt guess from their name, they are in the business of selling icons... or at least they hope to be. They sent me several pictures of hand painted icons they have produced and would like to sell in the US, Greece, and a few other countries. They all look similar to icons, but just enough different that they look slightly off. There was no indication what the prices would be, but let's hope that they are cheap! With a little work, I'm sure they can get to the point that they look very much like the real thing. So if the iconographer is not what matters, and the image looks like the prototype, it must be holy, right? Or is there more to it than that?

I think that what is missing is that icons should be the work of the Church. We all know that if the priest doesn't pray or fast as well as he should that the sacraments are still holy. We all know that if the priest gets a few things out of order or misreads a word that the sacraments are still holy. They are the work of the Church with Christ as its head. So too icons must be the work of the Church. Whether hand-painted or mounted prints, icons should come from the Church. Those doing the work should be people striving to live a good life and in good standing within the Church. But we recognize that they too are fallen and in need of constant forgiveness. Our work in making them should be an offering to God and a service to our fellow man, and not a work of pure commercialism. We as members of the Church should support those whose ministry it is to create these icons for our Church. People in India need to make a living too, but where will we be if we support businesses before ministries?

My wife and I have been trying to eat more local foods, ones that have been sustainably raised, in a responsible and ethical manner. What if we were to do something similar with icons, prayer ropes, incense, candles, vestments, and other goods for our Churches and homes. A local producer may not live next door to you, but shouldn't they at least share your faith? Shouldn't they be a part of your Church in some way? Shouldn't the creation of these items be something that is passed on from generation to generation, one that gives back to the Church and its faithful people rather than just taking from them? Shouldn't we support those people who make quality products, who are familiar with the theology they are passing on, and who use their work to minister and not just make money? Of course the answer is yes to all of these questions. But when we look for icons, are we looking at the bottom line of price, or are we choosing to make our Churches healthier and our ministries stronger? I hope so.

Saturday, May 15, 2010

Labor of Love Completed


It's been a very long time since I posted anything substantive here, but I wanted to post this picture of the iconostasis at our Church, finally completed. Our wedding was nearly 8 months ago now, and I just recently added the icons to the Deacon's doors and added a few finishing touches to the Royal doors and St. John. In total, it took me about a year's worth of time, having to space things out with commission work.

I've been reflecting a bit lately on what it means to me to have this project completed. It was so important to me during the time that I was living in PA for Lisa to be able to have something in Church to remind her of me. At the time of the wedding, it was important to me to have them as a statement of how much I love my wife. Now that we are married, and that we are in Church together regularly, it is important to me as a reminder of how God worked to bring us together.

It seems to me that this is precisely why icons are important. One could easily assume that icons are a way of making the invisible visible. But this is not accurate. Icons are allowable, and in fact necessary, precisely because they make the visible visible. In a sense, they operate in much the same way as a microscope or a telescope does. One would be wrong to suggest that a very small cell or a very distant planet was invisible. They are fully visible, they are every bit as real as the things that we see with the naked unassisted eye, but they cannot be perceived without assistance. Icons help us to see what is visible, but not always perceived.

As a gift to my wife, these icons made lots of things visible. My love for my wife, the fact that I missed her when I was away, and the fact that God helped to bring us together across great distances. But my hope is that as a gift to the Church, they show us that God loves us all, that He loves us so much that He took on human flesh for our salvation, that He took that human flesh and ascended to sit at the right hand of God the Father, and that He sent the Holy Spirit to dwell in us and sanctify us just as He has sanctified the Saints and the faithful before us. Our God and His work among us is visible, and is there to be seen with eyes of faith. I pray that these icons will help those looking with naked eyes to get a glimpse into the eternal that they may grow in faith and develop spiritual sight.Here are closer looks at each of the icons in the iconostasis.

Christ the Light-Giver:



Pimen Mother of God



Royal Doors


Transfiguration of the Lord (Patron of the Temple)


St. John the Forerunner


Archangel Gabriel


Archangel Michael



Friday, January 29, 2010

New Website = Happy Dance

Hello all!

Thanks to the hard work of my sister, I have a new website to share with everybody. The URL has not changed, just the design and some of the content. So please check out http://www.holy-icons.com and let me know what you think, share it with friends and family that you think might be interested, leave comments if you like, and please enjoy! I also want to thank my wonderful wife who helped me over the last several weeks to get all the content moved over to the new site. I am so thrilled with the new site, and I look forward to the greater amount of participation from visitors that this site allows.

Friday, January 22, 2010

The Painting and Praying of an Icon

The following is taken from a talk given to an Episcopal Clergy Retreat in Jerome, ID recently:

In his manual for icon painters, Dionysius of Fourna, an 18th century monk on Mount Athos speaks to the Mother of God about his desire to be an iconographer like the Apostle Luke whom tradition credits with painting the first icon of the Virgin. He writes:

“I wished to become his unworthy imitator, and started the art of painting icons, thinking that the desire to fulfill my duty to your most high and laudable magnificence was the same as the ability. However, in my arrogance I failed greatly, as nature did not assist me sufficiently or accompany my intentions and wishes.”

Our natural artistic abilities are inadequate to the task of depicting the incarnate God, His mother, and the saints. What is needed above all else is humility, prayer and God's guidance. If an Athonite monk was unworthy and incapable of such a task, how much less equipped am I?

The rules for an iconographer, as handed down to me by my teacher read:

“Before starting work, make the sign of the Cross; pray in silence, and pardon your enemies”

and

“During work, pray in order to strengthen yourself physically and spiritually; avoid above all useless words, and keep silence.”

And so, I have structured this essay around the Prayer Before Beginning an Icon, taken from Dionysius' Painter's Manual:

“O Divine Lord of all that exists, Thou hast illumined the Apostle and Evangelist Luke with Thy Holy Spirit, thereby enabling him to represent thy most holy mother, the one who held Thee in her arms and said: “the grace of Him who was born of me is spread throughout the world.”

Enlighten and direct my soul, my heart and my spirit. Guide the hands of Thine unworthy servant so that I may worthily and perfectly portray Thine icon, that of Thy mother and all the Saints, for the glory, joy and adornment of Thy holy Church.

Forgive my sins and the sins of those who will venerate these icons and who, kneeling devoutly before them give homage to those they represent. Protect them from evil and instruct them with good counsel.

This I ask, through the intercessions of Thy most holy mother, the Apostle Luke and all the Saints. Amen.”


“O Divine Lord of all that exists”

An icon is meant to be primarily the work of God rather than the work of man. Before picking up a brush, the iconographer asks God to guide the process, calling on Him as “Lord of all that exists.” All that we have has been given to us by God and rightly belongs to Him. The wood, cloth, pigments, and gold are meant for God's glory. So too, any artistic skill or talent, time or energy, all find their source in him and ought to be invested, as in the Parable of the Talents, to be given back to Him with increase.

The icon begins with these raw materials, to be put together for God's glory, but long before the painting begins, the board must be prepared using a healthy portion of time and effort to produce a smooth, stable, long-lasting surface on which to produce this heavenly image.

Each board begins with 3/4” plywood. Older icons were, of course, painted on solid wood. Slats of wood were placed in the back of the icon panel across the grain to prevent the panel from warping. With the plies in plywood alternating directions, ideally warping should be kept to a minimum.

The board is sealed with two layers of acrylic gesso. After sealing the board, a piece of cloth is embedded between two wet layers of gesso. The cloth is not meant to give texture, but stabilizes the paint. Even the best prepared panel will expand with heat and humidity, shrink in the cold and in dry conditions, and will warp a little from time to time. As it does, the paint will have a tendency to crack, and so the cloth gives the paint something to adhere to that has greater flexibility than bare wood. Several more layers are applied on top until the cloth is no longer visible. This surface is then sanded smooth so that the icon board has no texture.

“Thou hast illumined the Apostle and Evangelist Luke with thy Holy Spirit, thereby enabling him to represent thy most holy Mother.”

St. Luke is said to have painted the original Hodegetria icon (She Who Shows the Way). But before this, tradition says that Christ Himself created an icon by pressing his face to a cloth. An artist was sent by King Abgar of Edessa to paint a portrait of Christ. The king suffered from leprosy and sought the portrait as a means of healing. The artist was unable to capture a good likeness of the Lord, so Jesus created one miraculously. This image was returned to the king who was healed. But even before this God created the first icon by making man in His own image. As such, man is himself a creator, and the drive to make images, far from being sinful, is in fact inherently good and to be given back to God.

But the ideal is for each icon to emulate that icon “Not Made by Hands.” My mark as an artist should be secondary to the work of God, of the Holy Spirit, as we believe was the case with that first icon by St. Luke.

This is why we adhere to ancient prototypes, setting aside our own desire to innovate. This is why we pray during the process, and this is why we don't sign our work, but rather acknowledge the Holy Spirit as the source of an icon. Primarily this adherence to an ancient prototype begins with the drawing.

Though there are many instructions on how to properly proportion a figure in an icon, iconography is on of the few forms of art where copying is encouraged. In most cases drawings are made by tracing or carefully copying an older icon. Adjustments can be made when necessary, but as the point is not to innovate, often adjustments are not necessary.

“The one who held thee in her arms and said: 'The grace of Him who was born of me is spread throughout the world.”

This prayer clearly references the Incarnation of Christ, the justification and source for this holy art. The creation of icons is a means of proclaiming visually the incarnation and making God present to the eyes. These words are given as the words the Mother of God spoke upon seeing the icon that St. Luke had painted.

Through the creation of icons, the gospel is spread, and the grace of God is communicated throughout the world to all who would look upon them and recognize the incarnate God who makes these images possible.

The rules for the icon painter demonstrate the continuing role of icons in the spreading of this grace throughout the world:

“Never forget:

The joy of spreading icons in the world.

The joy of the work of icon painting.

The joy of giving the Saint the possibility to shine through his/her icon.

The joy of being in union with the saint whose face you are painting.”

We make Christ and His Saints present to the world, not incarnate – but visible. They are often referred to as windows to Heaven. They are not themselves incarnations of those depicted, but a means of gazing into the Kingdom of God.

“Enlighten and direct my soul, my heart and my spirit.”

The icon begins , not in the mind of an iconographer, not in the imagination, but in the heart, the soul and the spirit. If our hearts are not pure, if we are unrepentant or unforgiving, if we are greedy or prideful, our work will suffer for it. When choosing a prototype, deciding on compositions and colors, we seek direction and guidance from God. If our hearts are hardened like Pharaoh, we will always choose what we want, that which is aesthetically pleasing to us, or will bring us honor and esteem from others, rather than what will give honor and esteem and glory to God and His Saints.

Like our souls, the icon is a process of enlightening or illumination. The painting of the icon begins with the application of the base colors for each of the robes and the flesh. These are the darkest colors in the icon. Unlike many other forms of art, there are no cast shadows in icons, as the light source for an icon is the light of Christ shining through the figure. The way that this is accomplished is by beginning the painting with the darkest colors and gradually illuminating the figure with successive layers of highlight. This process mirrors the gradual transformation of salvation from darkness into the light that is a life in Christ.

“Guide the hands of thine unworthy servant”

Once our spirit is set right, we seek guidance for our hands. Once again, the focus is not on imagination, creativity, or artistic tastes, as these will only lead us astray from the truth. Our hands are given to God for His purposes.

One of the most profound moments in my time as an iconographer was when a priest who has dedicated his life to serving the least among us in his ministry to homeless and runaways kissed my hand after blessing an icon I had painted for his Church. For him, it was a recognition of God's work through my hand, and yet for me it was so humbling because I feel so unworthy to be seen as the means for God's work.

Iconographers use other icons for models rather than working from real life models. Compositions are based on older prototypes rather than being drawn from imagination.

Much is made of the symbolic meaning of the colors used in icons. The colors in the icon of the Theotokos show her to be a human being showered with the grace of God, while the colors in the icons of her son show Him as the eternal God who took on flesh for our salvation. Black can signify death, hades, and the abyss; white can signify life, resurrection and purity; red can signify martyrdom and sacrifice; purple can signify wealth or royalty; gold too can signify royalty, even divinity. And yet, color does not always carry deep meaning, and it is important not to try to read into icons meanings and symbolism that are not there. An iconographer has more freedom than is sometimes assumed. And yet this freedom can be a place for the Holy Spirit to work in and through the iconographer.

In the rules for an icon painter, the fifth rule reads:

“When you have to choose a color, stretch out your hands interiorly to the Lord and ask His counsel.”

When I first took notice of this particular rule, I had been an iconographer for many years, and I was taken aback by these words. One of the most frequent compliments I received is that people like my colors. My teacher would often ask about my color combinations because he was so impressed. And yet I knew that I could not take credit for the colors used since I am red-green colorblind, and often can't even see some of what I have done.

I used to think it was my knowledge of color theory, but I couldn't tell why I tried some combinations except that God works through us, and knowing that God shows His strength in our weakness. I find it so fitting that God would guide my hand in choosing colors rather than me simply using my eyes.

“So that I may worthily and perfectly portray thine icon, that of Thy mother and all the Saints”

Perfection is seen as faithfully continuing tradition. It is in tradition that we find the truth. Perfection is also in the proper communication of the gospel message. There is a strong tie between the hymnography of the Church and the iconography of the Church. Icons teach theology visually in the same way that our hymns teach theology verbally. As such, it is important for an iconographer to know the hymns and theology of the Church.

In deciding on a prototype for an icon of a feast of the Church, the hymns for that feast will help an iconographer to determine which prototype best presents the eternal truths of the celebration.

There is remarkable continuity in how the Saints are depicted, solely because iconographers for centuries have set aside their egos, studied icons of the past, lived the liturgical life of the Church, where they are steeped in its theology, and allowed the Holy Spirit to guide them to create icons that are both relevant and contemporary, but still deeply rooted in ancient truth.

With the painting of the face, our Lord, His mother, and His Saints become even more present to our senses. The highlighting of the face is accomplished with thousands of small brush strokes. It is an intensely repetitive activity, giving great opportunity for prayer and meditation on the divine. It is especially moving as the face slowly emerges from darkness. To see the Lord and His Saints beginning to look out from the board is a great privilege and an inducement to repentance.

For this reason, many iconographers begin with the face rather than the robes. This way, the Lord and His Saints are present while the robes are being painted. I most often wait until after the robes are done to paint the faces because I would never want to accidentally mar the face through a moment of carelesness.

The rules for an icon painter tell us of the reverence we ought to have for this process:

“Work with care on every detail of your icon as if you were working in front of the Lord Himself”

and

“Pray in particular to the Saint whose face you are painting. Keep your mind from distractions, and the Saint will be close to you.”

“For the glory, joy and adornment of Thy holy Church.”

It is important that the work is done for the glory of God and His Church. Dionysius of Fourna writes:

“Furthermore, those who do this work with devotion and diligence receive grace and blessing from God; but whoever from rapaciousness and love of money undertakes this work without respect and diligence, may they reflect well and repent before their end, fearing the punishment of Judas, whom they resemble in their love of money.”

In addition each Orthodox Church is meant to be an icon of the Kingdom of Heaven, and so the arrangement of icons and their compositions also help to teach. The adornment of an Orthodox Church is an integral part of the way that Orthodox Christians give glory to God.

The use of gold leaf is a means of expressing the glory and splendor of God. It represents the uncreated light of Heaven itself. This is why the halos are created using gold leaf (23K). Gold was traditionally used both for its value, and because it can be burnished to a highly reflective surface. This then reflects light as though it was coming from within the figure itself.

The gold is adhered using a gold size which is a glue that is painted anywhere the gold will go. As with the acrylic paints I use, this gold size is a slight departure into modern materials. The materials have changed over the years from encaustic painting which uses melted wax to bind the pigments, to egg tempera which uses egg yolk instead of wax. Apart from these, icons are often made with mosaic or fresco for more monumental work. Now most iconographers in this country are using acrylic paints which bind the pigments with an acrylic polymer. Even iconographers who work in egg tempera often use acrylics for some of their work for the ease of use and quick drying and preparation times. The materials really are in service to the theology and the technique.

“Forgive my sins and the sins of those who will venerate these icons and who, kneeling devoutly before them, give homage to those they represent.”

We ask God for forgiveness of our sins that we might be in communion with God without hindrance in the creation of an icon. So too we ask God to forgive the sins of those who will venerate the icons. Icons are made to make present Christ and His Saints, and in that sense they are made to be venerated. In order to approach holiness, we must be purified of our sins. So in order for us to properly venerate and contemplate icons, we must seek forgiveness.

The veneration given to an icon passes through to the person depicted. An icon ought to resemble the person insofar as that is possible. That requires the use of prototypes. In some cases when Saints are more recent, photographs can serve as a prototype. Icons are not meant to be realistic, but rather depictions of both the physical and spiritual. So even when a photograph is used as a prototype, it will end up being stylized. The noses are made long and thin to show that the person has moved beyond this world. They smell only the incense that accompanies our prayers rather than the scents of this world. The mouth is made smaller, and is closed. The Saints refrain from idle talk and are made to sing praises to God. The eyes are usually slightly enlarged as they behold the glory and splendor of God. The ears listen only to the prayers and hymns rather than the cacophony that surrounds us. Signs of infirmity or disease are removed from the depiction of their glorified bodies. Clothing and hand gestures are all symbolic of position, role in this world, and the life they lived.

In cases when no prototype can be found for an icon of an obscure saint, these methods of stylization allow us to depict the Saint based solely on whatever information is available.

“Protect them from all evil and instruct them with good counsel.”

Icons, in that they connect us with the Kingdom of Heaven, protect us from evil. As St. Paul says in his letter to the Hebrews,

“Therefore since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which does so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us.”

Icons serve as a reminder of those who have already run the race, but serve as a point of contact with them.

The lettering in the icon is an important step in the painting process. It has been said that an icon is not completed until the name has been inscribed on the icon, thus definitively linking the icon with the person it represents. The style of lettering I use borrows heavily from the Slavic tradition. Letters are made with long, thin verticals, and even thinner horizontal lines. The letters are often stacked and nested together. The lettering is as much a part of beautifying the icon as an other part of the icon.

“This I ask through the intercessions of Thy most holy mother, the Apostle Luke and all the Saints. Amen.”

Asking for the intercessions of the Mother of God, St. Luke and all the other Saints, especially those we are about to paint, it is then possible to begin God's work.

When the painting is completed, the icon is varnished to seal and protect the icon from any damage. It also enlivens the icon. As the paint dries, it becomes more of a matte finish. Varnishing it makes it look like it did when it was still wet. This is one of my favorite moments in the whole process. Having completed all this work and allowed the varnish to dry, the icon is nearly ready for use. And icons are meant to be used. The rules for an iconographer specify what is to follow:

“When your icon is finished, thank God that His mercy granted you the grace to paint the holy images.”

then:

“Have your icon blessed by putting it on the altar. Be the first to pray before it, before giving it to others.”