Category Archives: painting

The Plain Truth

by in art, humor, life, painting, philosophy, psychology, religion and tagged , , , , , , | 3 Comments

The Jesus People stopped by the other day.  They wanted to know if I was interested in learning the Plain Truth.  When I didn’t immediately respond I was told that ever since the sins of Adam sentient beings (such as myself, I guess) have found themselves in a downward spiral away from God, and, being lost, attempted to find meaning on their own, their egotistic hubris leading them down dead end paths of misunderstanding and away from the mysteries of life and God’s purpose for all.  They told me all I had to do was appeal to God to reveal himself to me and I would then be in possession of the Plain Truth; just don’t over-think it.

I responded that I was cognizant of an essence outside myself, an ineffable aspect alive within and without nature that I recognized nourished my imaginative being allowing access to infinite possibility.  It provided a truly positive beauty I thought about and nurtured daily through meditation and community with nature.

Well, we found ourselves at a standstill; they clearly saw me as a lost soul heading south and I was pretty sure I didn’t want to travel their road no matter what direction it was going.  They walked off hoping, I suppose, for a more favorable response from my neighbor.

But the thing is there was no animosity present in our exchange maybe because we, on some level, recognized a kindred sense of common pursuit.  We’re all searching for the ineffable, just taking different paths.  Hooray for pluralism.

jesuspeople

Is there truth in beauty?

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I remember, earlier this past summer, admiring the flower garden outside my window.  It was early morning; the sun low in the sky created sparks of light as it reflected off of the drops of dew.  The birds were active, singing brightly as they are wont to do as the weather warms.

I called my friend to the window so she might enjoy the scene as much as I.  Look, I said, isn’t nature beautiful?  My friend took in the scene for some time, then remarked that nearly everything she saw she found unpleasant: pollen made her sneeze, the wetness of the dew was cold, the birds squawking was abrasive and the brightness hurt her eyes.

Well, I just couldn’t believe what I was hearing; natural beauty seems so universally true; so many images by so many people verify it.  It’s hard for me to believe that the truth of beauty isn’t absolute.  Woody Allen famously said: ‘I love nature I just don’t want to get any of it on me.’  Maybe that’s where my friend is at; unable to separate natural beauty from nature’s physical presence.  Perhaps I could get her started watching the Nature Channel, then dinner on the patio, a walk in the park, eventually a climb up Half Dome.  I think she might come around in the end.  with Pearl3

Thoughts on Death

by in art, humor, life, painting, philosophy, psychology, religion, skepticism, spirituality and tagged , , , , | 3 Comments

I’ve been thinking about death lately.  I know, I know, but it’s winter what can I say.  Anyway, I was thinking if one is healthy and death suddenly appears it really has little effect on the suddenly deceased other than the fact he/she is dead, but, minimal pain is involved; healthy life, then extinction.

But, when I think about dying, anticipate it, I face the existential dilemma of no longer being here, in this my familiar environment which may not be perfect but certainly has pleasant aspects that I will surely miss, which is the reason, I guess, that thoughts of death are generally not thought of  in a positive light.

Which then leads me to wonder what’s next; the idea of a descent into nothingness is pretty hard for most of us to bear, which explains the various incredibly complex explanations and anticipations of preternatural existences man has thought up over the millennia.  There’s the heavenly realm, a Zanadu-like ideal city and Valhalla, the home of the gods. And then there are the more new-agie notions of rejoining the Collective Consciousness and the ancient Hindu notion of reincarnation leading eventually, if one is lucky, to re-unity with the Atman.

I guess some would call this fantastic, even delusional, but when I think of the absurdity of maintaining a sense of our individual significance in a world of billions of people and dolls in a limitless universe I guess entertaining thoughts of an after-life isn’t so terrible.

Mysterious Burial

Mysterious Burial

Really Good Art

by in art, humor, life, painting, philosophy, psychology and tagged , , , , , | 3 Comments

Have you ever seen any really good art?  You know, something that ignites your imagination, gives you a glimpse of timeless beauty, lifts your spirits, provides a sense of the common cultural ground you share with your fellow sentient beings and maybe even gives you an idea of how things could be, ideally, in the tomorrows ahead.

Well, I’ve seen art that moves me, maybe not in all these ways at one time, but still lifts me beyond the mundane redundancies of everyday existence.  These experiences happen to me and that’s why I visit museums.  And, from what I’ve read and heard, I’m not alone; others have had similar experiences.

It’s unfortunate that when they’re spoken about-the experiences I mean-they lose their impact and meaning.  They’re reduced, the more they’re spoken about, to nearly meaningless drivel or pseudo-intellectual nonsense, that, for those who have never had a truly aesthetic experience, turns them off completely; even dissuades them from seeking the enlightenment some of us get from seeing really good art.

It’s really too, too bad; I wish I could convince everyone to visit a museum, find one work of art he or she likes and consider what it means to him or her personally.  Reaching enlightenment can never be a bad thing.

at the hermitage 3

Winter Doldrums

by in art, humor, life, painting, philosophy, psychology, religion and tagged , , , , , , | 2 Comments

The winter doldrums have set in.  Nature lies in dormancy and I must admit I’m affected.  My thoughts increasingly become dark.  It’s like I’m living under a black cloud.

It seems like everyone’s rubbing me the wrong way these days.  I’m getting negative vibes from dolls (and people) I usually co-exist with easily.  Why does it seem they’re trying to impose their values-values that make absolutely no sense to me or with which I totally disagree.  I’m perfectly ok with others having opposing views but why can’t they just keep them to themselves.

And the weather’s terrible; cold, cold, cold.  I’m afraid of being taken outside, my plastic body becoming brittle and cracking; then I’d be in a fix.  I’d be destined for the scrap heap no doubt.

If I was religious I might be thinking about the sweet here-after, but given the mood I’m in crossing the River Styx is the more likely consideration.  I wonder which place houses the more interesting residents.

Oh well, I know it will pass. One morning I’ll wake up to a slightly stronger sunshine which will trigger a change.  I’ll once again be my usual upbeat self with an added bit of residual annoyance.

BRIDGE REPAIR3

A Renaissance Woman

by in art, humor, life, painting, philosophy, religion and tagged , , , , , , | 3 Comments

During the renaissance period in Europe, when artists weren’t painting scenes from the Bible commissioned by the church, they were likely painting portraits of the rich and famous.

Among the rich and famous at the time was the Borgia family whose numerous intrigues, rumors of incest, murder and orgiastic engagements made for great story telling in 15th century Valencia.

Often the future Pope Alexander VI’s daughter (and lover) Lucrezia was the center of attention.  She was by all accounts a captivating young woman, betrothed twice before her teen years and otherwise regularly used to further the political ambitions of the family.

But Lucrezia wasn’t simply a pawn in the Borgia’s game of political domination.  She was a true Renaissance woman, well educated, fluent in a number of languages including Latin and Greek.  She was politically astute and well-spoken at court where she cultivated friendships with leading artists, courtiers and poets of the day turning Ferrara into a center for the arts.

When one’s flame burns strong it’s often short-lived and such was the case for Lucrezia.  She wound up submersing herself in religion and dying at the age of 39.

I wonder where someone like Lucrezia would fit into the contemporary social milieu.  Would she contribute a strong and articulate female voice to the world dialogue regarding politics, feminism and the arts only to burnout in the futility of the endeavor, find religion and end up probably not being an asset to the abbey?

Whatever happened she would most certainly become a media favorite adored by the left and abhorred by the right.

ddsquashhat1

The Post-Modern Man

by in art, humor, life, morality, painting, philosophy, psychology, religion and tagged , , , , , | 3 Comments

I-Ron, the post-modern man, was telling me the other day he never misses church on Sundays even though he doesn’t believe in God.  He said he enjoys the company of the faithful while knowing he will probably never and, anyway, had no interest in experiencing the faith himself. Then, he said that, come to think about it, he didn’t really believe in anything particularly other than those immediate impressions that allowed him to go about his daily activities.

So, when he found out one of the members of his congregation had taken his own life recently and how unsatisfactory that action was in the eyes of the congregation and the church, all he could think of was the scene from Dante’s Inferno where the suicides are imprisoned in trees and are constantly pestered by the nasty Harpies landing on them, breaking off limbs and causing much pain and distress.

Although he felt a bit guilty about not feeling any remorse and pretending concern, I-Ron could only see the story as colorful and not the least bit disturbing.

Well, even though I do lean toward a moral relativity myself I had to feel a bit sorry for I-Ron; how can one really enjoy life without having strong moral feeling of any sort?  I wondered to what level of Hell Dante might assign I-Ron.

suicideand harpies

Why?

by in art, humor, life, painting, philosophy, psychology, skepticism and tagged , , , , , | 2 Comments

I was listening to my friends the other day discussing which of the big ‘W’s’ (you know, where, when, who, what, why) they thought was the most important.  The Barbies were clearly in the ‘who’ camp: who was the hottest celeb, who would the next bachelorette pick, who would ask them to spring prom.

IMac girl thought space and time to be most significant; when and where the next notable meteorological occurrences and/or ecological disasters would take place. Being of a social nature, she also was concerned with the where and when of the next Philosophical Society Social.

Tiny Tina could be forgiven for seeing the importance of the ‘what’ her parents and teachers would next demand of her.

Poor Pitiful Pearl (who is neither poor nor pitiful) suggested that all that really mattered was ‘why.’  With ‘why’, she offered, one can question the legitimacy of those social values that have led us to believe short-term popularity is important; with ‘why’ we can question the importance of our artificial time structures as well as the legitimacy of our subservience to those who render power over us; with ‘why’ Pearl said, we can eliminate superfluous concerns and find the path to our true natures.

Pearl’s argument pretty much fell on deaf ears.  The Barbies said they knew their true nature which was being the most popular girls in school; IMac girl said one’s true nature hardly mattered in relation to the immanent destruction of civilization as we know it and Tina said she might be able to overlook the demands of her father and teachers but her mother was simply not to be trifled with.

I felt like I had just witnessed a microcosm of the essential dilemma of doll-kind: It’s not simply that were not all reading the same page; some of us are making paper airplanes.

why3

Absolute Certainty

by in art, humor, life, painting, philosophy and tagged , , , , | 3 Comments

I’ve been thinking lately how difficult it is to know something for certain.  How can I be sure that what I know to be true is indeed true?

I have a lot of doubts.  There are many things I’m quite uncertain about; too uncertain to make a judgment as to their truth or falsity.

And there are quite a few things I have opinions about; things I judge to be so with a pretty high degree of certainty but am not absolutely sure to be the case.

Then, there are things I’m sure are true because they behave or exist in a manner consistent with what my mind expects them to do or be.

But can I be sure these things I’m sure are true are absolutely true?  Are they true for everyone all the time for ever and ever?  And if these sure things aren’t true for everyone all the time for ever and ever how can I be sure of their truth?

Well, it’s a true enigma; how can I know that I know what I know, that’s what I’d like to know.

multipledeideis3

The Dollsheviks

by in art, humor, life, painting, philosophy and tagged , , , , , | 2 Comments

I was thinking, the other day about Vladimir Lenin, leader of the Bolsheviks who overthrew the Tsarist monarchy and established the People’s Republic- a social organization in which all people participated and shared equally in the fruits of their labors. What a truly great idea!
Well, I guess that was the way it was supposed to work, but as truly as mankind has an inherent social conscience, a concern for it’s fellows, it also has an inherent selfishness, an inherent primacy of concern for number one.
So, as almost always happens among people of unequal abilities and more or less selfish inclinations the power and control and wealth gravitated into the hands of the few and the promised equality never materialized.
Despite the drawbacks I still think the idea has potential, at least for dollkind. Dolls, at least most of the one’s I know tend to be compliant and generally happy beings. Many maintain a constant smile on their faces. They’re able to keep their egos in check and very seldom complain when left out in the rain or are ignored to gather dust for weeks at a time. Most have no inclination to lord it over their fellows in any way. Establishing a Socialist Dolls’ Republic, it seems to me, would be just the thing to insure we’re all dusted off occasionally, have our minor damages repaired, you know, get fair and equal treatment.
I think I’ll offer the idea at the next meeting of the Dollsheviks; I think we could make it happen without the need for a revolution.
near vilnius 3