My Daze with Art!
Within a six-month period, my life had swung from a season of incredible highs, to a stretch of discombobulating lows. But, it was within this swing of the pendulum that God taught me a valuable lesson about "seeing layers in life".
I was in my early 30s and my life and career had definition and purpose. It was the middle of 1985, and I was teaching English to the elite in mainland China. I was called a "foreign expert". Parties and events were given for me and my colleagues. I was invited to attend a banquet hosted by a provincial governor. I was the guest of honor for a day-long "dragon boat" race and festival. I had the means and opportunity to travel throughout the interior of China for several months. Never in my wildest dreams had I ever envisioned wandering by myself through Tibet and central China.
Wherever I went, I stood out. I drew attention, and sometimes crowds, with paparazzi-like interest. I was treated as a celebrity. My movements rarely went unnoticed. As a result, my ego was really built up. I was on top of the world. And, it was a heady experience.
By the time I returned to the United States in mid-fall, I was ready for the next mountain-top experience. Yet, I needed money. I also needed to rest and get healthy. So, I was invited to live with some dear friends. I borrowed one of their cars, and I shared a room with their newborn. Since, it was too late in the fall to get a position teaching somewhere, I tried to piece together temp jobs. I was in a very dependent state. I was lost, and trying to sort out "what's next?" In the process, I drifted into a major valley.
I ended up getting two part-time security guard jobs which were in odd situations. The most "impressionable" experience was at an art museum.
I was specifically hired to be a guard at a temporary showing of "The Rothko Exhibit". As I think about it now, China may have actually prepared me for Mr. Rothko. My "tolerance for ambiguity" while living in China was fairly high. I had learned to "roll with situations" and deal with "unknowns". I had dealt for months with guessing about food, language, culture, and directions. I came to expect "being in the dark". But, as I transitioned back to the United States, I really didn't expect the ambiguity to continue.
Yet, surprise! I was to deal with something else I didn't understand, nor appreciate. It was the artwork of Mark Rothko. And, boy on this one, was I ever in the dark.
Mark Rothko was an American Avant-garde artist in the 1950s and 60s. His art genre was abstract and expressionistic. He was a "color-field painter". He was known for painting two or three horizontal swaths on the canvas which were heavily textured with layers of paint and color.
I spent days somewhat dazed by my predicament. I didn't "get it", but I dutifully told people, "Please don't touch the paintings." And, tried to "keep busy" watching the "dried paint".
After a few weeks, I was really bored. I worked in the afternoons and at times the only people present were the other guards. To make the time pass, I would position myself in front of a painting, and consciously try to appreciate it. I looked for objects within the layers, and tried to identify something. I tried to see patterns, shapes, and inconsistencies. I tried to do anything to help the time pass more quickly.
While I can't say that I ever loved it, I did start to notice the layering can affect texture and color.
My takeaway, besides a paycheck, was in identifying the role that texturing has in art, as well as in life. I had never really thought about something like paint having a texture to it, yet when layers were added, the texturing began to take on a tapestry of its own.
In the process, I had lots of time to think and struggle with understanding the painting on the canvas of my own life. I was dealing with the loss of position and prestige. I was still grieving the loss of my dad three years earlier. I had to face the reality of my qualifications. For the second time in my life, I had a role (teaching) overseas that I didn't have the credentials to do in the United States. There was starting to emerge a pattern of gaining experience, and then needing to go back to get the necessary training, qualifications, or credentials if I wanted to continue. Coming to grips with this was critical. It was also humbling.
As the spring of 1986 rolled around, I felt stuck. What was I going to do next?
I was starting to learn the God works best when I am uncomfortable. Unpredictability and ambiguity create a vulnerability that opens me up to consider a different perspective. It exposes me to new and different layers in the canvas that he is painting in my life. And, dependency and lack of control builds character and intimacy with him, as my Creator.
It is comforting that God sometimes uses mundane experiences in our lives to give us texture. The mix of experiences in our lives creates a blend that is unique only to us. God uses texturing in our lives to shape our journey - and instill messages, purpose, and beauty for others to see him in us.
While I wouldn't want to do it again, I certainly have come to appreciate the perspective that I have gained during "my days with art". It definitely broadened my horizons, which is always a good thing.
I also need to say that my days with Rothko did have one hidden benefit. I was able to make someone's day on at least one occasion. I was running an errand, and was briefly invited in the entryway of a home. As I entered, I saw a painting displayed on the opposite wall. Without a pause, I blurted out, "Oh, is that a Rothko?" The reaction I got was ecstatic! You would have thought I had told them how to find the Holy Grail. The response was, "Oh, you are the first person to ever recognize this. I can't believe it. I just can't believe it. Usually, people say, 'What is that?' Thank you. Thank you. You just made my day.
It just goes to show, you never know when your own seemingly trivial life-experience may brighten up someone else's day - which, I hope "my daze with art" has done for you, as well.
Next Time: Three Families & a Rock Band
Photo Credit: Williamette Week, November 8, 2016
I was in my early 30s and my life and career had definition and purpose. It was the middle of 1985, and I was teaching English to the elite in mainland China. I was called a "foreign expert". Parties and events were given for me and my colleagues. I was invited to attend a banquet hosted by a provincial governor. I was the guest of honor for a day-long "dragon boat" race and festival. I had the means and opportunity to travel throughout the interior of China for several months. Never in my wildest dreams had I ever envisioned wandering by myself through Tibet and central China.
Wherever I went, I stood out. I drew attention, and sometimes crowds, with paparazzi-like interest. I was treated as a celebrity. My movements rarely went unnoticed. As a result, my ego was really built up. I was on top of the world. And, it was a heady experience.
By the time I returned to the United States in mid-fall, I was ready for the next mountain-top experience. Yet, I needed money. I also needed to rest and get healthy. So, I was invited to live with some dear friends. I borrowed one of their cars, and I shared a room with their newborn. Since, it was too late in the fall to get a position teaching somewhere, I tried to piece together temp jobs. I was in a very dependent state. I was lost, and trying to sort out "what's next?" In the process, I drifted into a major valley.
I ended up getting two part-time security guard jobs which were in odd situations. The most "impressionable" experience was at an art museum.
I was specifically hired to be a guard at a temporary showing of "The Rothko Exhibit". As I think about it now, China may have actually prepared me for Mr. Rothko. My "tolerance for ambiguity" while living in China was fairly high. I had learned to "roll with situations" and deal with "unknowns". I had dealt for months with guessing about food, language, culture, and directions. I came to expect "being in the dark". But, as I transitioned back to the United States, I really didn't expect the ambiguity to continue.
Yet, surprise! I was to deal with something else I didn't understand, nor appreciate. It was the artwork of Mark Rothko. And, boy on this one, was I ever in the dark.
Mark Rothko was an American Avant-garde artist in the 1950s and 60s. His art genre was abstract and expressionistic. He was a "color-field painter". He was known for painting two or three horizontal swaths on the canvas which were heavily textured with layers of paint and color. I spent days somewhat dazed by my predicament. I didn't "get it", but I dutifully told people, "Please don't touch the paintings." And, tried to "keep busy" watching the "dried paint".
After a few weeks, I was really bored. I worked in the afternoons and at times the only people present were the other guards. To make the time pass, I would position myself in front of a painting, and consciously try to appreciate it. I looked for objects within the layers, and tried to identify something. I tried to see patterns, shapes, and inconsistencies. I tried to do anything to help the time pass more quickly.
While I can't say that I ever loved it, I did start to notice the layering can affect texture and color.
My takeaway, besides a paycheck, was in identifying the role that texturing has in art, as well as in life. I had never really thought about something like paint having a texture to it, yet when layers were added, the texturing began to take on a tapestry of its own.
In the process, I had lots of time to think and struggle with understanding the painting on the canvas of my own life. I was dealing with the loss of position and prestige. I was still grieving the loss of my dad three years earlier. I had to face the reality of my qualifications. For the second time in my life, I had a role (teaching) overseas that I didn't have the credentials to do in the United States. There was starting to emerge a pattern of gaining experience, and then needing to go back to get the necessary training, qualifications, or credentials if I wanted to continue. Coming to grips with this was critical. It was also humbling.
As the spring of 1986 rolled around, I felt stuck. What was I going to do next?
I was starting to learn the God works best when I am uncomfortable. Unpredictability and ambiguity create a vulnerability that opens me up to consider a different perspective. It exposes me to new and different layers in the canvas that he is painting in my life. And, dependency and lack of control builds character and intimacy with him, as my Creator.
It is comforting that God sometimes uses mundane experiences in our lives to give us texture. The mix of experiences in our lives creates a blend that is unique only to us. God uses texturing in our lives to shape our journey - and instill messages, purpose, and beauty for others to see him in us.
While I wouldn't want to do it again, I certainly have come to appreciate the perspective that I have gained during "my days with art". It definitely broadened my horizons, which is always a good thing.
I also need to say that my days with Rothko did have one hidden benefit. I was able to make someone's day on at least one occasion. I was running an errand, and was briefly invited in the entryway of a home. As I entered, I saw a painting displayed on the opposite wall. Without a pause, I blurted out, "Oh, is that a Rothko?" The reaction I got was ecstatic! You would have thought I had told them how to find the Holy Grail. The response was, "Oh, you are the first person to ever recognize this. I can't believe it. I just can't believe it. Usually, people say, 'What is that?' Thank you. Thank you. You just made my day.
It just goes to show, you never know when your own seemingly trivial life-experience may brighten up someone else's day - which, I hope "my daze with art" has done for you, as well.
Next Time: Three Families & a Rock Band
Photo Credit: Williamette Week, November 8, 2016
Why in California is there a place called Death Valley? Are some valley's that deep.
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