LOVING OUR NEIGHBOR: PEACE AND RECONCILIATION

For generations, families of Christians, Jews and Muslims in the Middle East have suffered and mourned the destruction of homes and loss of loved ones—their histories shaped by war and violence. Amid checkpoints, rockets and grief, ordinary people still hope for something different.

The Rev. George Dorado Blanco’s collection of works illustrate the stark reality of long-standing division in this war-torn region.This exhibit invites us to share in civil discourse to reflect on the sacredness of life and loving our neighbor—in the hope of peaceful reconciliation and coexistence.

August 7, 6-8 pm • First Friday ArtWalk Opening Reception

6 pm: Refreshments and hospitality with music by Lillie Gordon and Friends

7pm: Featured speaker: Artist/Activist,The Rev. George Dorado Blanco

Sept 4, 6-8 pm • First Friday ArtWalk Final Reception

6 pm: Refreshments and hospitality with music by Ponderosa Raga Collective and Friends

7pm: Featured speaker: Fayez Dalia and NAU Associate Professor Emily Schneider

Bio: George Dorado Blanco, a native of Guantanamo, Cuba, studied painting at the renowned San Alejandro Academy of Fine Arts in Havana. He graduated in 1977, and taught Design and Composition for Painting and Sculpture at the School of Fine Art Jose Joaquin Tejado in Santiago, Cuba, where he developed his own curriculum. His methodology incorporated avant-garde concepts from the Bauhaus School of Design and the drawings and designs of Frank Lloyd Wright. In 1980, Dorado Blanco resigned his teaching position to come to the United States. In 1988 he graduated from Garrett-Evangelical Theological Seminary with a Masters of Divinity and introduced the concept of Art and Healing to many churches and communities in the Chicago area.

Artist Statement: My paintings are not the product of a prolific imagination, or alternative realities, but factual, real contemporaneous events brought to our living rooms by television, newspapers, radio or the Internet. Real innocent civilians, families and children are, as we speak, being obliterated from God’s created world. I painted these paintings to remind us of the horror of war, to speak up for peace, justice, healing and reconciliation. They may reflect a reality that makes you feel uncomfortable or disturbed. After all, who wants to see pictures of children suffering and dying? But if you feel moved, or touched by these images to advocate for Peace, then God is moving within you. The worst reaction would be a cold indifference, which is a total dehumanizing detachment toward the suffering of others.

May this poem serve as a quiet reflection and examination. Presented to the

congregation, in humble gratitude, at The Episcopal Church of the Epiphany.

Under the Rubble

(To paint or not to paint?)

There are still thousands of bodies waiting to be found. The sins of a nation are

hidden, ignored, allowed. Precariously covered by dust and metal, empty suitcases,

abandoned toys, the unfinished dinner, or should I say: the last meal?

Beneath the rubble, Justice is dying, crushed by the weight of inaction,

paralyzed by force of Metals and Walls that, in another time, sustained the inhabited

structures of squares and rectangular compartments, that once sheltered the lives of

many from intrusion and displacement. Guarding a dignified privacy from the

violation of those other lawless people who were taught to believe, that in their

righteousness and by Divine provisions, they were the only ones to inherit the

richness of Mother Earth. The chosen ones with privilege and immunity to conquer

and destroy a land that is not their own.

Meanwhile, The people of the nations stood by in silence, as inactive blind

bystanders, enablers avoiding persecution, evading retaliation by not getting

involved, and resisting to know the truth, a delicate curiosity, by God, given only to

children.

Now, after so many months of sadness and tears, I am afraid nobody is here left

alive, to sing and dance to a new song. Who will then witness my paintings, Is Hope

too far gone? My body is getting tired of waiting for a voice to come down from

Heaven and rejoice. Between my age, and the heavy weight lying on the rubble that I

am striving to sustain, I am lifting it up enough off the ground so Justice may not

completely be gone, crushed, survive, untouched.

Hopeless and in despair, I found that the heavy load, was too much for me to bear

alone, that I needed you, my love and companion, to sustain once more my arms up,

so I could instead of war make love, write a happy song, or paint another day,

another place on my canvas, a land of Peace and Love; another world.

© 2026 George Dorado Blanco 8/5/2026

Permission granted for free, non-commercial use, printing, and digital display by The Episcopal Church of The Epiphany of Flagstaff, AZ.