The Highest Form of Hope

Diptych

2009-12-05T00:43:00.006-06:00

For the Time Being

2009-11-30T20:35:00.005-06:00

One of the end-of-semester projects I am part of this year is a reading of W.H. Auden's Christmas Oratorio, For the Time Being. It is an extremely challenging work... my professor wisely described it at "intellectually dense". I am finding my particular role challenging too. Acting, like dancing, is one of those rare activities I thoroughly enjoy, though I have enough self-awareness to know I'm absolutely rubbish! I am playing Rachel (a role of about six lines), mourning for her children after the Massacre of the Innocents (which oddly enough is a humorous scene - you just have to read it to understand). I have to transition the audience from the humour of the scene previous to a scene of mourning. It is a difficult task, considering too that this is a reading of the play and not a full performance. I have only my voice and facial expressions to work with - let's hope I don't stutter!

A reoccurring theme in For the Time Being is how the Incarnation transformed everyday life... how all events are made significant in the light of the Event. Quite an important lesson to one who is living in the balance between academic work (which thrives on recognition) and the work of the home (which is most often unrecognized). This section of Simeon's soliloquy particularly spoke to me:

Because of Him the Flesh is united to the Word without magical transformation. Imagination is redeemed from promiscuous fornication with her own images. The tragic conflict of Virtue with Necessity is no longer confined to the Exceptional Hero; for disaster is not the impact of a curse upon a few great families, but issues continually from the hubris of every tainted will. Every invalid is Roland defending the narrow pass against hopeless odds, every stenographer Brunnhilde refusing to renouce love's ring which came into existance through the renunciation of love.

This may seem like a random quote, maybe not profound on the surface, but it speaks to me something very true about the Christian story - something that was pointed out in Rumblings not too long ago. The Christian story takes human history seriously, but not necessarily history as we have traditionally seen it. As all who have studied history know, recorded history is the history of the victors, of the powerful, and the successful. But the incarnation in its incredulous unpredictability redeems the history of all of humanity, from the greatest to the least. It made all births significant, all households holy, and all work holy vocation.

In honor of New Moon opening weekend...

2009-11-22T17:53:00.002-06:00

I think it is high time that Christian publishers start cashing in on this whole "vampire obsession" thing. Every girl in our youth group has read the Twilight series at least twice, even my mom and my sister have read them! I am placing vampire books under the ban until there is a non-offensive, Christianized version published by a company in Grand Rapids or Anne Rice resurrects Lestat (I mean really resurrects him). How happy I was to discover this upcoming novel - to soon make its debut in church libraries everywhere!

The Humanizing Vision: Reflections on John Luc Marion's "The Blind Man of Siloe"

2009-11-19T14:41:00.004-06:00

Five hundred years ago, the ownership and display of images was a luxury reserved for the rich, the powerful and the established. The images seen in the halls of power or in the structures of the church were originals; artwork created in order to serve a specific purpose. With the technology that followed the arrival of the printing press, the image made astonishing advances in its accessibility and its superfluity. Today we are not only able to possess images, we can also crop, superimposed, and exploit them as they have been digitally dismounted from their original contexts. The irony of this ‘culture of the image’ is that though images are more accessible than ever, we are more ready than ever to ignore them. The effects of these technological and social changes cannot be reversed, but there may be a way to recuperate the sight for which the post-modern treatment of images has left dimmed and darkened.

In the our current state of technological advancement, images can exist on their own unhindered by a reliance on prototypes because the prototypes no longer limit reproduction or manipulation. “Briefly stated, the liberation of the image consisted precisely in freeing it from any original. The image is now valued by itself and for itself; it has no original but itself; and it intends only one thing: to be accepted as the unique original”(Marion). The uses of historical works of art in publicity images exemplify this separation. The Mona Lisa has been reproduced, reinterpreted, and manipulated not only by post-modern artists seeking to revisit the past, but more often by companies seeking effective ad campaigns. “Images, like industrial objects, are products; they belong to our ‘society of production’”(John Berger). The Mona Lisa is no longer a portrait painted by Leonardo Da Vinci in the 16^th century, but an image of woman used to sell everything from toothpaste to insurance.

The screen represents the pinnacle of this groundlessness. The screen is a world without matter or time (what Marion refers to as an “Anti–world). The images that appear on the screen are effectively apparitions. It is easy to see how actual events – like an earthquake in Pakistan shown on the evening news– can become non-events to the viewer. The footage of suffering children and displaced families does not exist in actuality (that is, in the material world of time and space). The unfortunate victims of the earthquake exist entirely on the screen and will cease to exist when the channel is changed. We interact only with their image, we cannot fathom their existence in actuality.

Marion argues that in a world where the image has no prototype, the image fits itself to spectator. It exists for the consumer, who in turn both “submits to” and “regulates” the image. This relationship is not one of “seer” who is invested in the image, but one of voyeur who “sees for the pleasure of seeing”. The voyeur has no stake and therefore no right to see what he or she sees. The voyeur sees without the responsibility of “being seen”.

This voyeuristic impulse has encourages us to replace the relational event of “being seen” with the non-event of “appearing”. There are a variety of current examples that could be called upon: blogs, facebook, myspace, YouTube. All fulfill Andy Warhol’s promise that one day everyone would have their fifteen minutes of fame. In each example, real relationship (the real event of ‘being seen’) is replaced by the appearance of an individual’s crafted and edited image. Nowhere is this more apparent than in the cult of celebrity worship where human beings are reduced to their appearance in order that they might become products of consumption for the voyeur. Warhol’s Marilyn Diptych demonstrates this powerfully: the more Marilyn Monroe’s picture is reproduced, the more it disintegrates. She is no longer a human being made in the image of God; she is purely an image.

Marion suggests that it is the icon that stands over and against this ultimately dehumanizing vision. The icon, as an image grounded in the perfect and complete humanity of Christ incarnate, demonstrates a way of seeing in the context of relationship to the creator God. In this relationship, Christ has bridged the gap to the One seen, and therefore we are able to look upon him without shame or judgment. Conversely, the irresponsible gaze of the voyeur is an “idolatrous gaze”. The voyeur seeks only to see himself reflected in the image of the other. The basis the Old Testament ban on images was to keep the Israelites from idolatry, for images made to represent God only served to symbolize a deity made in the image of things created – an image of God contained. God is not made in the image of humanity but humanity is made in the image of God. It is God’s revelation through the incarnation that allowed humanity to gaze upon him without fear; through Christ the disciples encountered the Father.

The meeting between icon and worshipper cannot be understood as simply a dichotomy of viewer and object. There is an interaction with the prototype who is effectively “seeing” the viewer as well. Marion refers to this as a “second glace”; where the gaze of the viewer and the gaze of the prototype meet.

In front of an icon, I do indeed remain an onlooker, but I experience myself also as seen. Thus, the image is no longer a screen, since, through it and in its features, another glance – invisible as all glances – explores my face. The prototype interacts, through the objectifying image, as pure gaze crossing another gaze.

When we encounter an icon, we do not merely encounter an idolatrous mirror as in the gaze of the voyeur, but we encounter the gaze of the Other. “It [the icon] beautifully expresses the genuinely Christian understanding of how the finite and the infinite are related”(D.B. Hart). The icon is therefore a humanizing force, because it sets our sight within the context of our relationship to the Creator. It is the image of the world transformed, not the “anti-world” of the screen. In a culture dominated by dehumanizing voyeurism, the face of Christ as seen in the icon affirms every face by recalling the incarnation of Christ.

Let's say that...

2009-11-12T15:55:00.005-06:00

We've been recovering from the flu this week, and as such time outdoors hasn't been on the agenda. In the bowels of our spacious but dark basement suite, it's hard not to feel a little blue. Sometimes when I need to feel like "life is pretty good" (imagine that!), I go to 1000 Awesome Things. If you haven't checked it out yet you should. It's a great Canadian blog that is dedicated to counting down - you guessed it - 1000 awesome things that most of us have experienced. For its genuine, thoughtful and humorous posts, 1000 Awesome Things won a 'Webby' (the blog version of the Oscars) this year. Today, needing a bit of sunshine myself, I thought I'd share 4 awesome things of my own.

4. Old ladies in a pub

Nothing warms your heart like seeing three or four life-long friends in their eighties enjoying a pint (or likely something harder) together. The sight of three white-haired ladies, with polyester pants, red lipstick, smelling faintly of Chanel No.5 reminds me to never lose my friends, my style (even if that style includes plastic rain caps), or my ability to have fun. Here's to you, ladies of the pub!

3. Seeing people picking berries

This is a particular awesome thing I've only noticed since moving to the West Coast since berries and joggers are plenty here. Have you ever had the good fortune of seeing a jogger, in all their high-end jogging apparel straddling the ditch at the side of the rode in order to pick a handful of black berries? Here is a professional, modern person (likely a doctor or lawyer if it's happening in my part of town) choosing to place themselves in an awkward position for berries. It's as if all the trappings of the modern life no longer matter and we're all just hunters and gatherers again, fending for our survival in the primal rain forests of the Pacific Northwest. We're all the same deep down. We all like berries.

2. Adults in public, in costume (and it's not Halloween)

About four weeks ago I had the happy experience of observing a pirate on the bus. Yes, a pirate. A grown man, wearing a large three-corner hat, long hair in a pony-tail, chops, and a nautical jacket circa 1700 c.e., walked onto the bus, sat down, and opened a book and began to read as if all was normal. All was not normal so I took a discreet picture on my I-phone. The pirate sighting truly made my day, maybe even my week - which was made complete by a sighting of a person dressed as a Blackberry outside the Rogers store. High fives Blackberry man!

1. When kids say, "Let's say that.." while playing pretend

A phrase often uttered in playdates long ago... JP and I were creative little girls. We fought along side the Ninja Turtles, carried secret messages for Robin Hood and his band of merry men, and preformed plastic surgery on Ken to reattach his severed legs (we had a very complex and nuanced 'Barbie narrative' going on back then)... There was no dilemma that could not be solved by the words "let's say that". What's even better is hearing your own kids say these magic words!

Peace in the Land: Searching for the Anabaptist Aesthetic, Part III

2009-11-10T18:16:00.005-06:00

Jeremy Begbie views both creativity and creation from a Christological standpoint. Creation’s end is to be united in Christ. It is out of love that God creates, and this love is seen most fully in true physical form in the person of Christ. Through his sacrificial love, all things are made, and all things are made new. Since God creates, not out of any reason other than his overflowing love, creation is a true gift. I say ‘true’ in order to distinguish between the gift of creation and the gifts that we as humans give to each other. Human given gifts often come with a certain expectation that the gift will be reciprocated in some shape or form, and therefore the language of ‘gift’ may unintentionally denote an expectation of reciprocity in order to fulfill the desires of the giver. The gift of creation is not like this; it is utterly peaceful in that it demands, nor can accept, anything in return as reciprocity. It is given, and though we may or may not turn to our creator in worship, God does not need creation in order to complete something in himself; the gift is completely selfless and completely unnecessary.

The language of “gift” can recall Wolterstorff’s critique of the Kantian concept of art as essentially unnecessary or non-functional (and therefore ‘gift’), citing that art is always created for some kind of purpose. Works of art exist within history and culture and therefore do have a function within a specific context. We can become confused at the meaning of art when we take a work that is created for a specific purpose and treat it as if it were an object of “detached contemplation”, which is closely tied to the assumption that art as essentially useless. From what Jeremy Begbie writes, one could conclude that the concept of uselessness or non-necessity is best understood in the gift of creation, not in art itself. For God did not created out of necessity or in order to somehow complete himself, but he created out of the overflowing of his own joy and abundance coming from within his triune being. The idea that creation is not necessary to God does not take away from its significance but rather adds to it. Creation becomes a true gift – a gift given with no selfish expectation of return because it is a gift that is given in love.

But the gift of creation is not the end of the story. The fallenness of creation, and the consequent “disorder” that arises from humanity’s freedom has made creation a place that exhibits both beauty and terror in its alienation from God. Annie Dillard describes this in her contemplative book, Teaching a Stone to Talk. She writes about a neighbor who has taken up the task of teaching a small pebble to talk. Dillard remarks that this is “noble work, and beats from any angle, selling shoes”. The reason why it is noble work is not fully explained, but what Dillard does explain is that nature is as silent as the rock. She emphasizes that this is our doing; that God at one time may have spoken in or through nature, but it terrified us so he stopped. Because of our fallenness nature is silent. It can only speak the cycle of life and death in all its beauty and dread.

The created world is no longer a place of shalom but a place of where death propels it forward; which is as Begbie describes “anti-creation”. How are we to take up our vocation of gardener when we are the ones at fault for the silence and disorder in the created world? How can both creation and our role in creation be restored? The gift of God in the self-giving of Christ unites both God’s victory over the powers of disorder and violence, and humanity’s victory as found in the incarnation of Christ. Through Christ’s ascension as “the God-Man, he embodies and constitutes the telos of created reality”. Christ fulfills the human vocation as founded in the creation narrative to its fullest and takes on his role as ruler and gardener of the earth. “In Christ our broken and distorted humanity has been re-established in its proper orientation toward the creator.”

So what does this vocation of “gardening” look like? What is the tangible outworking of our restored vocation? Annie Dillard describes the dilemma of creation’s silence, she also touches on the solution, though not in the actual content of her essay but in the way she interacts with the created realm in her writings. Dillard finds meaning and inspiration in considering trees, an eclipse, or the evolutionary process; through her prose she ‘decodes’ nature. This is not to be merely understood as a ‘platonic pointing’ to something greater, but it is an exercise in peacemaking. Through Dillard’s crafting of words and careful observation, she is essentially becoming a voice for the created world. Once it was silent and alienated but through Dillard’s words creation become engendered with meaning and it is at peace with us again.

God’s redemption of our vocation through the person of Christ allows us to participate in creation’s development and continuous unfolding. We share in the work of the Spirit as we continue to walk in love in congruence with God’s created order as he draws all things to himself. We enact Christ’s judgment when we “unmask” that which is disorder or disfigurative. We affirm the goodness and grace of the gift of creation when we take joy in its beauty, or marvel at its unfathomable diversity. But this is not a passive activity; we are indeed workers in the garden and our vocation is to bring about “new forms of order”. This conjugates all facets of human creativity: science, medicine, technology, music, the visual arts, craft, and architecture. And certainly it becomes obvious that all such activities can be destructive and can transform us into vessels of anti-creation rather than agents of God’s unfolding. We can only be agents of transformation and re-creation in relationship: first, to the triune God, second in the community of the church, and third in communion with creation. Human creativity is foundationally communal; it affirms the intrinsic “relatedness” of human existence. Christ has given us back true vocation, and we are now set about the task of bringing shalom to all things. In the work of restoring creation’s peaceful relationship to the Triune God, perhaps teaching a stone to talk is not as outrageous as it at first seems.

The reality of my background is that though peace was central to my understanding of the church’s role in the world, this peace was too often seen through a telescopic lens. Though I value the ideals of the peace community, the reality is that many communities are not at peace but fraught with division and animosity. The supreme irony of the Mennonite heritage is though we may claim to value community, humility, and simplicity; we are plagued with detachment from our friends and family, false humility, and covert trust in material wealth under the guise of “stewardship”. Joy can be frivolous and generosity can be foolish. But despite these shortcomings, the aesthetic of my heritage is one that can demonstrate aesthetic and creative obedience. Mennonite simplicity, ingenuity, and creativity are examples of the peacemaking vocation of humanity taken up in faithfulness. Anabaptist communities should therefore be cautious not to thoughtlessly give up these creative traditions in order to gain ‘cultural relevance’. The Mennonite aesthetic tradition of my heritage is one worth saving because it is a tradition in which peace finds form. In order to grasp a rich and active peace, shalom must be couched in Christology because it is in Christ that we are given back our true task; to bring glory to God in the peace of restored relationship. In this we find our true human vocation while at peace with the land.

Peace in the Land: Searching for the Anabaptist Aesthetic, Part II

2009-11-09T14:12:00.001-06:00

This relational foundation of shalom places a strong emphasis on the outward orientation of creativity. Wolterstorff is therefore highly critical of views that hold to more platonic and inwardly orientated focus on creativity, such as the writing of Dorothy Sayers. For Sayers, art is important because it points to the image bearing quality of humanity: God is a creating God and he has given us the ability to also create. Because the act of artistic creation points toward God, the ultimate reality, artistic creation in and of itself is connected to the divine. Therefore the emphasis for Sayers is on the internal processes of artistic creation; how the artist draws out from him or herself (the Idea, Power, and Energy) in order to create whereas Wolterstorff focuses on the exterior dialogue between artist and material, artist and community, and artist and God.

Sayers does offer valuable insights, specifically to how artists can understand their own internal processes, but also as to how the creative process can reflect the nature and character of God. Art making for myself has been a way of synthesizing what I have learned or experienced internally. In this way the arts do portray a picture of incarnation. Christ himself was made visible to us so that God could be revealed. One is immediately reminded of the icon as a way of the invisible made visible. The church has a long tradition in presenting pictures and allegories of who God is through the sacraments; the Eucharist is a picture of Christ’s body and the body of the church, Christian marriage is a metaphor for God’s love for the church, and baptism is a symbol of conversion and acceptance into the community of the resurrected. Not only are these sacraments allegories, they are also real, tangible ways the community can interact with the truth. It is in this way I can understand Sayers and David Jones when they speak of art as ‘sacramental’. The sacraments point beyond themselves symbolizing a larger truth that cannot be fully grasped in its entirety without the allegory to help mediate.

What may be overlooked in a sacramentalist view of art is that sacraments are the activities of the body of Christ. They are communal in nature. Robert Farrar Capon writes that with such a view we are “just members of a crowd of individuals following our own noses and achieving, at best, our own amusement. If, however, we are all together in the oblation, than it becomes something more than an amusement – it becomes culture”. Capon gives an answer as to how our experience in the created world can be formed into communal expression, which can ‘speak into being’ cultural incarnations that point to Christ.

Though Sayers probably overemphasizes “self-expression” through her metaphor of artist as creator, self-expression in our current cultural context can never be fully removed from art-making. Wolterstorff tends to overlook the power of art to effectively and peacefully communicate the thoughts and ideas of the artist. The type of dialogue that happens through art making and art viewing is a mode of communication that is more congruent to peaceful dialogue than pure dialectic. This is not to say that art, in its nature, is immune to being violent. But there is something to be said about the peacefulness of contemplative art. Contemplation of the arts can persuade the viewer to slow down and to open him or herself to what another has to say.

What can be said of both Sayers and Wolterstorff is that creation is of utmost importance when contemplating the meaning and the practical outworking of the arts. For Sayers creation is important because of what it says about the artist as one made in the image of God. For Wolterstorff creation is important because it is the context in which one takes up the vocation of the artist as well as the very media with which the artist works. In order to synthesize these two poles, one must look at what Jeremy Begbie presents as a theologically expanded view of the relationship between creation and creativity. It is one that can serve as both a synthesis and critique of Sayers and Wolterstorff.

More thoughts on space...

2009-11-07T16:05:00.006-06:00

As touched on in the previous post, space actually matters. Space shapes our behaviour; it encourages or discourages certain actions or attitudes. How we interact with space and environment reveals what we value, and, in turn, is also an agent of value formation.... so why we are so ignorant to the power of space?

I suppose these fun little videos could be taken as a supplement to these ideas. I came across them on Kristen's blog. You could think of them as "experiments in space" or "how space can change our behaviour" or "making space fun". The whole idea behind the experiment is that creative use of space can encourage healthy and ethical living. I wonder what a school, a home, a church or hospital would look like if we paid more attention to how human interact in space instead of how cars interact in space; which, from how our cities are planned, seems to be the most important factor for consideration these days - seriously have you seen how houses are designed these days??? Two huge pet peeves of mine are giant attached garages and stucco. Guess I should plan on NEVER moving to Calgary!

Peace in the Land: Searching for the Anabaptist Aesthetic

2009-11-06T15:21:00.004-06:00

I've been asked to share a little bit of what I've been learning over the last couple months, and though I wish I had time to write something that is not directly connected to classwork, it has become apparent that that will not happen!! The following is a couple excerpts from a paper I've been working on for The Christian Imagination with Loren Wilkenson which focuses on the work of Nicholas Wolterstorff, Dorothy Sayers, Annie Dillard, and Jeremy Begbie (I would highly recommend reading Jeremy Begbie - I plan to take a class from him this summer!) seen through my own personal and cultural background. So that is the context for the next few posts... For more interesting material you should go over to Paul's blog where he's posted a video of Noah singing along with Karsten!

* * * * *

The church my Russlander great grandfather built is located forty kilometers northwest of Saskatoon. It is a simple whitewashed wooden structure with a green tin roof, sitting double-steepled atop a hill surrounded by rolling fields of canola. The interior is painted a muted light green and well-worn pews stained rich sepia by the long years line each side of the sanctuary. The floors are scuffed and rich as the pews while the gothic shaped windows draw the eye upwards to the unadorned vaulted ceiling. This was the center of communal life for this small Russlander community. It was here that milestones, both in life and death, were marked and seen as a testament of God’s grace at work in the world. This year the church that my great grandfather built is closing in order to move the congregation to the community center of the town nearby. The hope is that, by moving their place of worship nearer to town, the church can better serve the community and fulfill its missional role.

For the Anabaptist ‘peace’ is central to the understanding of the church’s role in the world. But there is a tenuous relationship between living as a peaceful presence in the world and the responsibility to speak into a world where violence reigns. My own denomination has been strongly influenced by the evangelical impulse. It was this impulse that led the leaders of my great grandfather’s church to transition from German to English services and eventually encouraged many congregants to move into urban centers and take up secular careers like my grandfather who became a public school principle. Anabaptist communities, like the Mennonites of central Saskatchewan, are no longer tied to the land as they once were, and as such the community commitment to traditions of craft, music, and community life have begun to wane. And though these demographic and cultural shifts are reflections of greater trends in Canadian society, I wonder if the Anabaptist commitment to peace will be unable to find physical form as these traditionally counter cultural communities become like everyone else. There is no denying that balancing relevant cultural and social engagement with the Anabaptist commitment to live as a ‘city on a hill’ is a difficult tension to maintain. And perhaps this tension between “against culture” and “in agreement with culture” needs to be laid aside for a more embodied and incarnational encounter. The question I want to ask is what does a peaceful aesthetic look like?

It seems appropriate, when trying to develop my own understanding of the arts founded in Anabaptist practice and culture, to begin with Wolterstorff. The very little that has been written on the arts from an Anabaptist perspective has focused primarily on the work of Wolterstorff for his strong affirmation of the materiality of art-making and responsibility of the artist as one who actively building shalom. This philosophy of arts finds its foundation in the creation narrative. The earth is humanity’s home and Adam (literally “earthling” in Hebrew) is charged with responsibility over Creation. His duty as a creature is to be creation’s “gardener”, to shape and order nature, for the purpose of supporting human flourishing. This vocation is understood as threefold: first to God, then to humanity, and finally to creation itself. Shalom can be understood as the harmonious condition of all three relationships. Material art objects are active expressions of this ‘shalom building’, and are not primarily a means of personal expression or what Wolterstorff labels as “objects of disinterested contemplation”.

No culture has existed without the arts, and certainly Anabaptist and Mennonite communities are no exception. There are several very positive affirmations one can make of this distinct cultural aesthetic. The aesthetic of the Mennonite tradition is one that is grounded in the created world. It shows an appreciation for functionality and the everyday, specifically of the traditional work of the household and the community. This creative work of the household is most often observed in the form of ‘craft’. From Wolterstorff’s perspective craft is worthy and admirable as a way in which humanity has answered the call to steward creation because it is so strongly tied to purpose and action and usually functions as a vehicle for enriching human life. Seerveld, another author from the Dutch Reformed tradition, takes the value of craft and the creative work of the household farther. He writes that living an aesthetically obedient life includes choosing hand made and home made objects mass produced objects of consumption. The simplicity of Mennonite furniture, the practices of gardening and canning, harmony in hymn singing, quilting and stitch work all are facets of a rich aesthetic tradition grounded in a respect for creation that does not often get the credit it deserves. Unfortunately, in the last fifty years true and thoughtful functionality have been consistently laid aside for convenience and productivity. Seerveld strongly labels this value of productivity and convenience over an aesthetic that values creation “Baal Worship”. One only needs to consider the bland anesthetic cityscape of midwestern suburbia, which is more suitable to a lifestyle of consumption than to wholistic human living, to understand what Seerveld is describing.

From what Seerveld and Wolterstorff write, interaction with ‘space’ and ‘land’ are good indicators as to whether or not we are fully embodying our human vocation. A box store or strip mall is an example of space shaped by consumerism, whereas space which demonstrates a “dynamic wholeness” is at peace with human life and the created world. “Dynamic wholeness” does not necessarily mean opulence or extravagance. Though my great grandfather’s church is primarily an example of restraint and minimalism, this does not make it less obedient in an aesthetic sense. The aesthetics of restraint, subtlety, and symmetry are all appropriate in their own context, especially when considering how minimalism is in aesthetic agreement with the prairie landscape. A simple well-built church may be a more aesthetically obedient choice than an ornate Cathedral, dependant of course on the environmental and cultural circumstances. This being said, minimalism and simplicity should not be confused with aesthetic poverty exemplified in the box store inspired mega churches of suburbia.

Not only have our spaces for living working and worshipping become aesthetically malnourished, our society has become increasingly withdrawn from the creative process as a whole. We no longer live as creative and aesthetic people, rather we choose to consume product of mass-production and seldom engage in the creative making ourselves. Something profound is lost in such a radical transformation. We are no longer at peace with creation, our neighbor, our Creator, but live as detached people without a homeland. Our living spaces reflect this alienation. The suburbs (created to allow people of means to escape the violence of the city), where people are relegated to their own plots of land detached from the places they work and do business, ironically create an environment where violence can occur unchecked because there is no sense of relationship or community in the suburb. The absence of relationship cultivates violence.

By/For Project

2009-10-29T21:54:00.002-06:00

Just thought I'd give a little plug for my friend Shannon's show coming up on November 4, 4:30-7:30. She'll be exhibiting her work along with the other participants from the By/For residency. The By/For Project is a really cool idea to help churches become patrons of the arts. Several churches pool together funds to sponsor the project, the proceeds of which will be split between the artists and the churches. The project then tours among the sponsoring churches (and Regent College). So come on out to see some great art and to visit with the artists (Also, check out Shannon's blog which includes a video)!

Check!

2009-10-29T12:26:00.004-06:00

A certain category near the top of my "things to do before I turn thirty" list was successfully checked off last night.

This morning I limped into Languages 500 with puffy eyes, a cotton-ball feeling in my ears, a pounding headache, and the realization that I had forgotten to complete my homework.

It was SO worth it.

Slick Boot

2009-10-22T15:20:00.004-06:00

Standing in the warm rain in the greylight

of early autumns morning

Slick boot, stuck leaves, and frizzy haired humidity

I watch the cars pass disturbing the star speckled pavement

If I look only at the cars I move though standing slick boot still

The world moves and moves

In the busy greylight of early autumn's morning

Walking up the alley path in stepping time to stolen music

that sets the trees to dance

They drop their leaves as gifts to the muddy earth

Gifts that cling to my slick boot treads and clog the steal grate drains

The trees move and move

In the warm rotting grey of early autumns morning

And in this grey light I am at once content

I can wait for the bus on Emmaus road

Slick booted and frizzy haired carrying all the baggage

of a child home from the last days of school

Because we so long to give the expensive gifts back

I move and am moved

In the haunted greylight of early autumns morning

Seeds for Planting

2009-10-18T09:05:00.002-06:00

Kathe Kollwitz, Seeds For Planting Shall Not Be Ground Up 1942 Lithograph

Pie Possession

2009-10-12T16:36:00.005-06:00

I'm not sure what compels me to make pie. It's likely one of the messiest, most time consuming, most annoying desserts to make. Pastry is finicky; it misbehaves if the weather is too dry or humid, or if it's too hot... And then there's the cutting of the fruit. One year I sliced so many apples that my hands were dyed brown for a week! And I'm not even a huge pie fan (save pumpkin and banana cream) - this phenomena would be more explainable if I had some kind of selfish motivation for it! I'm not huge on baking period, since I have problems following instructions to the letter (my latest Greek assignment can attest to that!). So why in the world do I get into these moods where I just HAVE to make pie from scratch?? Like a lunar eclipse, it happens only once in a while, and this year it happened in two square foot of counter space.

Answering a Question

2009-10-10T08:36:00.008-06:00

A reoccurring theme in Frederick Buechner's The Alphabet of Grace is his contemplation over a chalk drawing he encounters in the Sunday school room he's claimed for his writing (through the day he has been struggling to describe a character, an old man in a novel). The drawing is of two furious looking trees bowed towards each other with some figure standing underneath, and in letters the title of the picture: "Jesus answers a question".

Through this story I am trying to write in this room about an old man's journey, I also want to answer a question. Perhaps it is the same question although I cannot be certain of this. My trouble is not only that I am not sure of what the answer to my question is but that like Gertrude Stein on her deathbed, I am not even sure what the question is. I believe, however, that it has something to do with the price of a human being.

I deeply appreciate how this book is that gives a window into the process of art making (in Buechner's case writing), with all its distractions and self doubt. He doesn't elevate writing to a place above where it should be; but at the same time he explains how writing opens the writer up to wrestle with the questions we've forgotten. And its true that we do, either intentionally or unintentionally, go about living as though we were answering a question. And I think he is right about the question having to do with the price of a human being; we all live as if we were worth something - most of us live as if our value is tied up with something more than our monetary or social clout, even if we do become confused about such things. We ask a lot of questions about our origins, and how the origins of our existence effect our worth, our meaning. But maybe the question of price presupposes the question of origin. "How much is a human being worth?" might be the most important question of all.

Claiming my Space

2009-10-03T10:45:00.007-06:00

I have had quite a bit of difficulty studying and doing my homework at home; generally distracted and unfocused... Things have been a little better since I've started doing school work at 5 am (sounds harsh, but I'm actually a morning person so I don't mind). I attended a study seminar yesterday, and it was suggested that I needed to "claim" a space for myself, used only for school work. So today Noah and I made a shopping trip to IKEA and I think I've successfully made a study area I can be proud of! Maybe not Design*Sponge quality before and after, but I'm excited to use my new space... and since the bulk of today was spent putting together Billy Bookcases, I have a little bit of reading to catch up on!

Naming

2009-09-28T16:33:00.008-06:00

Some "hobbit forrest" photography (Sasha and I reading through The Hobbit these days)

Wow, it has been a long time since I've blogged - or even thought of blogging for that matter! My 600 pages of reading a week keeps me pretty busy these days. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately) everything I'm reading for class is SO interesting that I can't bring myself to skim - I must digest and think it all through. And that takes more time than I have.

Though it is hard to pick favourites, I think the class I look forward to the most is The Christian Imagination with Loren Wilkenson (CTC tutorial comes in a close second). So far I've found the reading especially thought provoking, as it seems to be synthesizing several ideas I find close to my heart. The first set of readings, a collection of essays by Walker Percy, G.K. Chesterton and Owen Barfield, sets out to investigate the nature of language; particularly how the nature of language points to how we understand that which is outside of ourselves.

A common thread these essays shared was the an investigation of the process by which we take marks (words and letter) and patterns of sound (spoken words) and transform them into meaning. The point being that language at its very foundation is metaphorical. The meaning of words is not derived from the marks on the page; it is a mysterious inward working of metaphorical connection. I see a ball, I say the word "ball". But how do I connect the word "ball" with the object? It may seem obvious at first glance, but it's not. One needs only to think of Helen Keller and how, though taught that she needed to make symbols with her hands in order to obtain something she wanted, did not make the connection between words and meaning until the famous incident at the water pump.

The only connection that can be made between object, word, and meaning is by metaphor - it is a connection that is "free" from that which is physically observable. Any higher functioning animal can connect the word (either the visual symbol of a written word, a sign, or a sound) with an object. But no animal, except for the human being, can understand that "ball" is the object in question. We are the only creatures who understand "is" (are, am, etc.), the verb "to be". Darwin himself identified this trait as the one observable difference that sets us apart from the animals. Perhaps "is" "am" and "are" are keys to the mystery of what it means to be human.

This inward process has left linguists and psychologists alike baffled. Noam Chomsky refers to this process as a "black box" - his mysterious language acquisition device - a metaphor which points to just how much we can definitively say about this process. Though we may not be able to say much about the process of language acquisition, it certainly says something about the way in which we process information, indeed the very nature of knowledge. We are consistently giving meaning to things through our language. This would seem in opposition to the idea that we can observe, and furthermore communicate, what we observe in nature in any autonomously objective fashion. My Greek teacher remarked to today how interesting it is that so many of the fundamental questions of human existence are wrapped up in our own grammar. Though not a grammarian by any stretch of the imagination, I think am inclined to agree.

It all reminds me of the creation story, when Adam is charged with the task of naming the animals. It is the first thing he is asked to do. And it is what we continue to do. We name.

Welcome to Bizarro World

2009-09-08T21:00:00.005-06:00

There's a story line in an old Superman comic where the universe has been turned upside down, where good guys are bad and bad guys are good... the basic idea is that everything is opposite of what normally is. I believe it also featured in a Seinfeld episode, though I can't completely remember what that episode was like, but it may jog a memory of the term for those of you who didn't read comic books growing up!

The reason for bringing up an old Superman story line is that I experienced a little piece of my own "Bizarro World" today.

Today the whole family went to the Regent College orientation because we thought it important that all of us become aquatinted with the college, Paul is thinking about taking some courses in the future, and the staff graciously supplied free childcare during the morning sessions. At the first coffee break Paul went downstairs to check on the kids leaving me to mingle and chat with other students. That felt strangely backward. I have been the one who goes downstairs to the nursery. I have been the one worrying about if the kids have had their snack or if they need to go home or go to the bathroom or whatever. As the morning sessions concluded, Paul turned to me and said, "I think I'll take the kids home."

I spent the rest of the day meeting new people, getting to know the UBC campus, asking questions and other new student stuff. I took my first bus ride back to our house and walked into the kitchen. Paul had supper cooking on the stove so I sat and read to the kids. In due time we were called to the table for a Ukrainian inspired meal. After eating, the boys and I cleared the table and did the dishes, which had been Paul's contribution to the supper routine as of late.

That was my day and it will be my days in the weeks and months to come.

Bizarre? Perhaps, but I think we may get used to it - I know I enjoyed today and I think my kids did too (and of course Paul did great). What an interesting new season in our lives... maybe interesting enough be a comic book story line!

Here Now

2009-08-24T21:26:00.006-06:00

We have officially landed in Vancouver after a smooth move to our modest and cozy basement suite in likely the most desirable neighborhood I will ever live in in my life (Dunbar Point Grey Vancouver - CRAZY). The kids are doing very well... they have already made a few friends and soon our street will be crawling with kids once everyone returns home from vacation. Street hockey and water fights are apparently everyday occurrences here so we look forward to sharing a backyard with 6 or 7 other kids once again! Our suite is pretty spacious (an interesting layout, but spacious) and is definitely a good deal... and it's painted yellow - not much need for adjustment there! Our landlords and neighbors are warm and generous and we're across the street from a huge park - it's a very "Hepburn" feeling neighborhood (other then the fact that houses are worth 20 times what they are in H-Burn). We've done a little sightseeing - gone downtown to see the cruise ship Grandma and Grandpa left on, we went to Granville Island today, to Superstore (not nearly as clean and organized as Saskatoon's Superstore - if you can imagine that!) and tomorrow we'll hit IKEA to help with our storage problems!

But at the end of the day we are really wondering what to do with ourselves (I mean, other than unpack) without friends to call up or volunteer events to go to or youth to hang out with. It is a little sad and kind of disorientating... I mean, who are we now? A question I'm sure we'll continue to explore on our little adventure. But overall everything has gone smoothly and we are excited to see what this year holds for us. Please keep in touch and visit us if you can - we have a kickbutt air mattress!

Treasure in the Field

2009-08-17T09:14:00.006-06:00

Treasure in the Field, Acrylic 2009 5x2

This painting was done for a fellow exile of Saskatchewan. It may or may not be finished, but I plan to revisit this landscape over the next couple of years in other work to come. It's one of my favorite places in Hepburn.

Lifting a Veil

2009-08-12T23:31:00.003-06:00

What better way to cure insomnia than to blog, right?

I don't know if its all the stress or if I truly excited or if I'm just out of my regular schedule, but this week I have suffered the worst insomnia! I guess it didn't help matters that Paul and I watched a thought provoking movie tonight. Images and ideas are running through my head... I suppose the most appropriate thing to do would be to expel them onto my dashboard so I can get some sleep (well, maybe I'll try to make these thoughts a little more coherent than that!).

Tonight we watched a film entitled Waltz with Bashir. This film, which is a documentary on the Israel's 1982 war with Lebanon, is almost entirely animated (an animated documentary - no joke). The premise of the film is the director's (Ari Folman) search for his lost memories of serving in the war, and his confrontation of his own participation in the Sabra and Shatilla massacre. The film touches on the psychological trauma of war, the nature of memory, and offers a stinging but even-handed criticism of Israel's complicit involvement in the massacre of Palestinian civilians. Folman even walks the dangerous line of drawing parallels between the holocaust (his parents were holocaust survivors) and Sabra and Shatilla.

One of the documentary interviews is of Israeli psychologist Zahava Solomon. She recounts a story of a filmmaker who went to the war zones to film images and found that he was able to withstand the trauma he witnessed by viewing the war through the lens. In doing so, he was able to detach himself from what he was witnessing. He saw destruction as action sequences and people as victims. But then his camera broke, and he was forced to actually see the events he was bearing witness to. In many ways Ari Folman takes the viewer on a similar journey. We view the war and the violence through comicbook-like animation, though we know that we are watching events that actually happened - interviews of actual eye-witnesses and participants. And finally at the end of the film, the camera figuratively "breaks"and Folman allows us to see the real images (the actual footage) of the massacre. It is a segment of film that can be no more than two minutes long.

I wonder how differently I would have seen these images had they been shown at the beginning of the film instead of the end. It really breaks down the idea of "documentary" doesn't it? I've seen documentaries about war and trauma before, but this film has challenged me on how I actually perceive images and events. Did I see them through the lens - as comic book characters action sequences? Or did I see these events and these people as real... flesh and blood real? Somehow the juxtaposition between animation and actual footage lifted a veil and we were able to see the action as destruction and the victims as people.

Paul and I sat in silence through the credits, turned off the TV and quietly went upstairs. What is the appropriate response to such things - to seeing trauma, to having a veil lifted to suffering and injustice? Especially when that trauma has happened twenty years in the past?

I think the director had the right response - after all, it is his story he is telling. He made an aesthetically dazzling film about war and then deconstructed it before our eyes. His imagined scenes are breathtaking, and somehow his imagined war makes the real suffering war brings more real, more significant, more worthy of a quiet moment to be sad and to mourn and to be angry (because really, what else can we do in response to wrongs already committed half way around the world? I suppose that may be another post entirely). Artistically there is not much more one can hope for than to invite (invite, not elicit) an authentic response from the viewer. Folman certainly achieved this and more. Needless to say, I highly recommend this film - go out and rent it, and maybe it will keep you up at night too.

Beauty and Disability

2009-08-10T22:07:00.003-06:00

Temma on Earth

Though I could probably be doing something more productive this late in the packing process, I really couldn't help but share this article featuring artist Tim Lowly. In the interview he explains his notions of beauty and how his aesthetic shifted after the birth of his daughter Temma. My favorite of his paintings is the one above in which he alludes to Temma's (and our) physical bodies - our earthly lives - and also to the resurrection of our bodies. There is a slideshow of portraits of Temma included as well (just click on the image)... very beautiful and unsettling work, well worth a moment of quiet contemplation.

Happy Birthday Sasha!

2009-08-07T22:40:00.008-06:00

So Sasha had his birthday party this morning, and it was a very momentous occasion! We decided on a Kung-Fu themed birthday, complete with kung-fu headbands and fortune cookie cupcakes (which I had to look all over the city for). We even got every single kid eating with chopsticks! There were FOURTEEN party guests, so it was loosely controlled chaos in our backyard - thankfully we were not rained out. Sasha has some pretty special friends. It was so sweet to see them give hugs and say goodbyes... we're all going to miss them. I'm going to miss them - several of these children have been in our lives since Sasha was a newborn! Watching all these unique kids play and laugh and share together (and karate kick each other - but we won't dwell on that), it seems rather appropriate that I should read this on Gil's blog before the party started.

I think I am inclined to agree as well!

Noah's Three! (Almost)

2009-08-01T23:18:00.005-06:00

The Birthday Boy!

Yesterday we celebrated Noah's third Birthday a little earlier than usual so he could party with his Hepburn buddies. I'm not posting the traditional picture of the birthday cake this year because they were quite possibly the ugliest cupcakes ever created (Noah liked them, that's what matters)! A fun time was had by all... We openned the presents - both of which were toys from the movie "Cars" and so of course Noah loved them. Then we had cake and played with the toys... Now if only party planning for my soon to be six-year-old were so easy!

On another note, our house finally sold... nothing like waiting until the very last minute (we were supposed to be taking it off the market today)! Everything is starting to sink in, for us and our kids. I think Noah will have a very hard time saying goodbye to his friends. They're a great little gang, especially when fighting over the precious "McQueen" car!

Beautiful Music

2009-07-31T16:06:00.002-06:00

Sam Bean and his fabulous beard.

Here are some songs that you may or may not have heard before... I happen to love them, so if you're looking for some beautiful music to listen to you should give these songs a try.

1. Fireweed Patrick Watson "Wooden Arms"

I really can't say enough about this album, it's just beautiful. My favorite of 2009.

2. Beach Baby Miracle Fortress "Five Roses"

Not everyone's cup of tea but the lyrics intrigue me as do the whirling sounds in the background... Reminds me of my kids playing with toy helicopters bought at the dollar store.

3. Pretty Good Year Tori Amos "Under the Pink"

Heather introduced me to Tori Amos way back in grade ten - a great fit for a melancholy 15-year-old ("nobody understands me...") - Good memories! I am still vowing to one day learn this song on piano.

4. To Build a Home The Cinematic Orchestra featuring Patrick Watson "Ma Fleur"

Yes, the same Patrick Watson. Right now this song makes me very weepy so I'm currently not listening to it as much as I have in the past!

5. Resurrection Fern Iron and Wine "The Shepherd's Dog"

My favorite Iron and Wine album, Sam Bean's usually too mellow for my tastes but this album is great and as always the lyrics are fabulous.