Postures of an Artist, Part II

Over a month ago, I wrote what I intended to be part one of a two-part post on the postures of an artist.

Yes, "postures," as in the plural.

Except I waxed (whether eloquently or not, I’ll let you be the judge) on a single posture–contemplation. Then I continued waxing like the karate kid on contemplation. Then I was distracted by various subjects–books, photos, secret-revealing, camping, you name it.

No worries. Today I return to my initial (though belated) intention.

The tough thing about distinguishing the postures of art-making is that in a sense, I’m never not art-making. While I’m doing dishes, I’m thinking about the latest scene that’s been giving me trouble. If I’m watching TV or a movie, I’m considering how the writers handled character, plot, and dialogue. On a camping trip, I’m taking notes for possible stories or bits of dialogue (because I steal blatently, and I’m not afraid to admit it). My prayers are a form of art-making, a dialogue between God and me. Add to this that everything I do, everyone I meet influences my writing and music, how I write, the themes I expound, the characters I meet, the rhythm of my words.

In other words, "postures of art-making" would be a useless theme. You might as well say "postures of life." It’s the same with "postures of an artist," since every posture of life is a posture of an artist. (This is why I can’t sleep at night–my mind still works, creating bits of dialogue, dwelling on the shape of my manuscript.)

But by "postures of an artist," (or art-making) I mean those intentional postures that we choose in order to better our art, or perhaps the postures that define as artists, rather than financial planners or construction workers (although many a financial planner and construction worker has also been an artist).

Without further ado:

  1. Posture of learning: the artist is a constant learner of his craft. How can I better form this sentence? What more can I learn about structure from another artist? Beyond that, the artist pursues learning in many subjects beyond her own, whether a particular subject to address in the art itself or of philosophy and worldview and humanity and aesthetics, because art is caught up in these areas.
    For me, as a writer, specifically, this means constantly reading–reading within and outside of my genre, interspersed with reading on art and the craft of writing. Reading about subjects of interest and sometimes subjects I never thought I’d like. But it also means learning outside of my discipline. As I learn about performance art or sculpture or photography, this influences my writing. Art overlaps with art.
  2. Posture of observation: If art is caught up in beauty and humanity, joys and sufferings, then we must first observe these. We observe them in the small gestures, between grandmother and granddaughter, perhaps, or between lovers, or between bully and victim. We observe grand gestures between countries, people groups, neighborhoods. We observe the wilting of a flower and the expansion of a tea leaf. We observe the creaks and groans of a house, the way a crack travels on a worn-out sidewalk.
    Because of this posture more than others, I believe, I never stop working. I must have made a comment to a friend recently that made him realize that in some sense, I never stop working. "You need a break," he said, "or you’ll wear your creativity out." Nonsense. Creativity begets creativity, and while I need frequent breaks from crouching over my keyboard, because I’m primarily a thief (actually, I prefer the term "pirate"), the more I observe, the more my creative spidey-senses go crazy. Writer’s block forces me to step away from the laptop and into the world full of gestures, conversations, and the rush of life, all of which goes into my Nancy Drew notebook.

I’m sure I’ll think of more postures (at 1:36 tonight, or in the morning, rather, interspersed between the line I want to add about the dead bugs in the corners of my character’s room and the dialogue I want to remember that my character overhears), but for now, this is enough.

What postures do you consider necessary to your art-making?

Read part one of Postures of an Artist.

Postures of an Artist, Part I

"It is an appeal to Christians who aren’t artists to benefit from the contemplative life of the artist, to slow down, lower the volume, and experience what life and faith consist of below the surface. It is not a call to the life of an ascetic, one withdrawn from the life of the senses; the purpose of contemplation and reflection is to strengthen us for a productive life in society and culture."
- from Performing the Sacred: Theology and Theatre in Dialogue by Todd Eric Johnson

Six years ago, I walked across a stage, shook hands with deans and presidents, accepted a piece of paper that claimed I’d earned my Masters of Theology, and slipped my tassel from one side of the mortarboard to another. I said my goodbyes to friends off to save bodies and souls across the world, moved apartments, and began my highly lucrative and influential job as a receptionist in a surgeon’s office.

You’ve heard this story before. I’d given up a position with a church-planting team in Italy to see where this thing was headed with a certain man. (Spoiler alert: Certain Man became Husband, and I have never doubted nor regreted my decision.) I went from all-night exegeticals and all-day school and church work to a boring life. Suddenly, I had evenings free. I didn’t have to study at lunch. I didn’t have to multitask during my sleep.

In the United States, and in the evangelical camp of the United States, that meant I was wasting my life.

During this time, I learned the beauty of the contemplative life. I rediscovered my journal. On Saturday mornings, I filled my mug at the coffee house underneath my apartment, walked to the park across the DART tracks, and doodled. Or wrote meaningless sentences. Or prayed. Or sometimes just watched.

I have to work these days to maintain this pace of life, and I’m blessed to have a husband who supports this, even though it means I don’t make as much money as I might otherwise. Even though it means my house may not be spotless (I’ve made friends with the spiders). Even though it means sometimes I don’t have dinner ready until 8:30 or 9:00 at night.

Lately I’ve been considering the postures of an artist. People call me a free spirit, by which they mean corporate life makes me red (and I don’t mean Bolshevik). But this term doesn’t mean much to me because I depend on daily routine, daily gestures or postures. To many, my life is mundane. But it is only in this mundanity that I can create.

Mundanity requires discipline. It’s easier to fill my schedule with all these other good things. It feels selfish to say no. But trust me, you get used to it. Addicted to it. Because in that no is the time to contemplate. And contemplation is a necessary posture of an artistic life. Nay, contemplation, I’d venture to say, is a necessary posture of the Christian life.

Different stages in life demand different responses. There are times when we have to forego the time to contemplate for one reason or another. But too often, we succumb to filled calendars because this seems better to us. A full calendar means a productive life, importance, meaning. I’ve discovered, though, that a full calendar means lack of creativity.

Over half of the year in the liturgical calendar is devoted to ordinary days. We have times and stages for the celebrations and fullness of Advent, Christmas, Lent, Easter. But most of our days are meant to be spent between these times in the mundanity of life.

In that mundanity I find contemplation. And only through that contemplation can I be the artist I want to be.

Correct Me If I'm Wrong

This is my last blog post in the trilogy (because trilogies are a nice round series) of politically charged (shocking? electrifying? electrocuted?) blog posts (introduction–On Politics: Taking Christ to a Bull Fight–to my questions about the possibilities of a just war–Only War.)

Politically and historically speaking, liberalism means "leave me alone." It carries the idea that I can make better choices for myself than you can make for me. This implies that Republicans are liberal when it comes to money and business (we can make the best choices for ourselves for both our individual finances and our nation’s businesses in a free market capitalist system with as little governance as possible) and conservative (to use what has come to be the antonym of liberal) when it comes to moral issues (such as abortion and marriage), meaning we prefer government to step in to help guide people in morals, and when it comes to military.

Democrats are conservative, then, in the issues of finance and business (businesses need regulations to keep them in check, and this has implications for personal finances) and liberal in moral issues (individuals have the right to choose whether they live in heterosexual or homosexual relationships, for example).

Of course, the lines are not cut and dry. For example, where does an individual’s right to bear arms fall? If we say it is a moral right, meaning we prefer the government to step in to help guide people for their own safety and for the safety of others, then we can see how the Republicans and Democrats flip on this issue compared to how they would normally fall in regards to moral issues.

And several issues arise when Republicans and Democrats see the underlying problem as different. Democrats argue that in the case of business regulations (e.g. in the insurance policies lately put into place) it stems from a moral problem, namely that the businesses are doing moral harm to people. This, of course, has financial implications for the individual. Republicans, while agreeing that the medical insurance business needs fixing, would argue that government has overstepped its bounds when it comes to their role, which should be a minimal one in finances and business. Government should take on a more liberal approach here, according to Republicans.

And then there’s the issue of immigration. In general, both parties agree that the system is broken. The Republicans I’ve spoken to don’t begrudge immigrants; in fact, they want to welcome them with open arms, provided they come legally. These Republicans (1) want to be fair to the immigrants who have come over legally and (2) recognize that something in our system should change to help more immigrants be able to be here legally. They are conservative in this issue, interestingly enough, for both safety issues (to help protect the citizens and legal residents of the U.S.) and financial issues (immigrants should be paying taxes to help run the country whose services they use). So they ask the government to step in for these reasons.

Democrats want a more hands-off approach for moral reasons (we are all immigrants and we should welcome those who need better opportunities to provide for their families), but there may be a bit of moral liberalism in here as well (don’t tell people what to do or how to live).

Or so the environment issue: Republicans call for a hands-off, or liberal, approach to give businesses more free reign to develop (believing that people will in general weed out that which is corrupt and choose that which is moral; or perhaps believing that that which is corrupt must ultimately fail; or perhaps believing that we shouldn’t impose our morals here) while Democrats call for moral regulations (believing also, perhaps, that as we guide them morally it will bring about the best for our country financially, which also results in better financial opportunities for individuals).

Keep in mind that at this point, I’m not arguing if the policies being put into place are the best way to accomplish these goals. I only want to sort out what the goals are and which goals I should approve or work toward in light of my religious sensibilities.

If I have a somewhat proper understanding of this, I’d like to get to my question: Keeping in mind that how I vote will not bring God’s kingdom to earth because God’s kingdom does not come via America, how can I vote in line with God’s kingdom? If my Christian values and morals come from an understanding of what God says is best for humans, humanity, and all creation on the one hand, but I also believe that these morals and values are empty and to some extent unachievable without the Holy Spirit (though I would also argue that the Imago Dei, corrupt though it may be, allows humans to act in good ways, too), how much should I impose my Christian values and morals on people who aren’t Christians (whether for what I believe is their own good, for the good of those around them, or for the good of creation)? 

If I believe that my Christian value calls for hospitality toward the stranger and alien, shouldn’t I err on the side that risks protection of country?

If I believe God calls humans to take care of creation, shouldn’t I vote for government regulations on polution, what kind of cars we make, how we build our houses, even if it makes things more difficult for businesses?

If I believe that abortion is fundamentally killing another human being because life begins at conception, shouldn’t I ask government to step in and limit rights here, much like I ask it to limit the rights of thieves and murderers? Shouldn’t I ask them to also stem stem-cell research because of how it harms individuals? Shouldn’t I ask them to outlaw certain infertility practices that harm individuals?

How extreme do we take this: Should we outlaw adultery? Divorce? After all, both of these moral issues affect families, individuals, children, and communities. Should government limit rights here to protect our nation’s morals?

When do we correct people and businesses when they’re wrong, and when do we step back and allow them to make their own choices?

Discuss.




On Politics: Taking Christ to a Bull Fight

Disclaimer, part one: I don’t talk about politics here, partly because I don’t like to talk politics, partly because I’m not some talk-show-radio-listening, political-blog-reading expert who has brilliant thoughts to contribute about the subject, but mostly because the topic is vicious. It brings out the worst in people. The conflict (especially between Christians) scares me.

That being said, today, I’m tip-toeing onto the frozen lake of politics. Most likely, the ice will crack, and I’ll plunge into icy water and end up fighting hypothermia at the hospital. I do this because political questions have been plaguing me, and since I believe that part of the role of social media is the opportunity to hash things out and learn in community, here we go.

Let me state my issue up front:

As a Christian, how do I best love the Lord my God and love my neighbor as myself through politics? How can I best contribute to the spiritual formation of others (or, putting it another way, how can I best help others be more human), as well as my own spiritual formation, in this arena?

Disclaimer, part two: Obviously, I believe that spiritual formation (or, as I now prefer to call it, human formation, as spiritual formation is the process of making us more human, meaning more like who God intended us to be) begins in the Church. My desire is not to take this responsibility away from the Church and give it to the government. 

In truth, I’d prefer to ignore the whole thing, abstain from voting, and claim "Disclaimer, part two" as my way out. I don’t believe that is what God calls us, too, though. As I incarnate Christ, I do so in every aspect of my life. If I believe that Christ can transform culture, than I’m responsible to participate in his kingdom work through the power of the Holy Spirit in every aspect of culture.

Disclaimer, part three: I do not believe this means that any human government will be the government of Christ’s kingdom. I don’t believe we can rightfully call a nation or government "Christian," nor do I believe any nation or government (except for the Israelites) to be chosen by God. Again, I’d like to use this as my reasoning from withdrawing from the world of politics. But I say this more to assert that I’m not seeking a theocracy or a return to a Constantinian rule, nor am I looking to figure out which political party is more Christian than the other. 

I pledge allegiance to God’s kingdom. In other words, I’m not concerned with how I can best serve America but how I can best serve God’s kingdom, specifically in the realm of politics. This means my allegiance to God’s kingdom, not my allegiance to America, affects my thoughts on issues such as healthcare reform, the war in the Middle East, and abortion. It affects my ideas of justice and how, as a Christian, I am to go about working toward justice (or, I suppose, am I to go about working toward justice?).

To be fair, I believe Christians who vote as Republicans and Christians who vote as Democrats consider this in their decision-making. I also suspect that Christians who vote as Republicans and Christians who vote as Democrats don’t consider this in their decision-making. 

This is enough for now. On another day, I’ll work up the courage to ask specific questions on specific issues. I’ll perhaps even confess my struggles in the political arena (an appropriate term, conjuring up bull-fighting or rugby). Today, let’s leave things here.

Art and Christianity: Interview with Josh Havens, Part 3

Josh Havens (of The Afters) and I continue our conversation. In this episode, we talk his favorite and least favorite parts of being a musician and his challenge to Christian artists.

This audio podcast is under 7 minutes. You can download it by right-clicking on the link.

(P.S. The dog makes rare appearances in this episode.)



Art and Christianity: Interview with Josh Havens, Part I

A few days ago (meaning sometime in January, February, or perhaps March), I sat down with Josh Havens, lead singer of the Dove Award-winning band, The Afters (as well as guitar and keyboards) and apparently Coffee Master, and talked about music.

This podcast is Part One of that interview, where we discuss how Starbucks is working toward Total World Domination in good ways.

Please ignore the incessant dog barking. Also the fact that we decided to have the interview outside with no outside lighting at night. I promise that is, indeed, Josh Havens.

Also, you can subscribe to these podcasts (and more!) through Blip.TV or through iTunes. Rumor has it the audio-only (mp3) version is floating around in cyberworld (on iTunes, I believe), but I have no idea how to get it on this post.

Psst–If you find this post interesting and think others might as well, would you mind taking a minute to stumble it? It would mean a lot to me.

Art and Christianity: Interview with Sandra Glahn, Part 3

This is the third and final installment of my talk with Sandra Glahn.

Sandra Glahn is the author of fiction (including a Christy-nominated
book), nonfiction, and Bible studies. She’s editor of the award-winning
magazine, Kindred Spirit, and adjunct professor at Dallas Theological Seminary. You can learn more about Sandi and her writing at her website and at her blog.

In
this podcast, we talk about subjective and objective standards of art,
how Christians should interact with art both in responding and creating. (Hint: it requires sophistication.)

(If you missed parts one and two, I highly recommend catching up: good thoughts on the power of story.)

For more on this subject, I recommend Daniel Siedell’s book God in the Gallery: A Christian Embrace of Modern Art (Cultural Exegesis) (you can read my review here), Franky Schaeffer’s Addicted to Mediocrity: Contemporary Christians and the Arts and Image Journal.

Psst–If you find this post interesting and think others might as well, would you mind taking a minute to stumble it? It would mean a lot to me.

Art and Christianity: Interview with Sandra Glahn, Part Two

Sandra Glahn is the author of fiction (including a Christy-nominated
book), nonfiction, and Bible studies. She’s editor of the award-winning
magazine, Kindred Spirit, and adjunct professor at Dallas Theological Seminary. She’s mentored and encouraged me and my writing, and is a fascinating person who would probably be the in-demand teammate for Trivial Pursuit (the woman’s brilliant).

You can learn more about Sandi and her writing at her website and at her blog.

In this podcast, we talk about how art intersects with social justice, environmental issues, and missions.

This podcast is approximately 3 minutes.

You can read Part One of our interview here.

(Note: for any writer’s out there, Sandi has some great writing tips and links on her website.)

Psst–If you find this post interesting and think others might so as well, would you mind taking a minute to stumble it? It would mean a lot to me.

Art and Christianity: Interview with Sandra Glahn, Part I

Sandra Glahn is the author of fiction (including a Christy-nominated
book), nonfiction, and Bible studies. She’s editor of the award-winning
magazine, Kindred Spirit, and adjunct professor at Dallas Theological Seminary.

In this podcast, we talk about how her writing affects her theology.

The podcast is approximately 4:45 minutes.

 



Reading the Bible Good for the Mind

I came across this article today in Publishers Weekly about a man who read the Bible cover-to-cover for the first time. The result: Good Book: The Bizarre, Hilarious, Disturbing, Marvelous, and
Inspiring Things I Learned When I Read Every Single Word of the Bible.

Two things stuck out: his grasp of the richness and humor of the Bible (my favorite line from the interview: "To appreciate the richness, vitality and comedy that is in the Bible is to make it feel alive, joyful and exuberant.") and his advocacy that the Bible should be read in schools to understand how the Bible has affected our culture.