stories don’t lie when left to themselves, says O’Connor

Gregory Wolfe on Flannery O’Connor (below) gives me language to describe my criteria & love for good art.

In one sense, O’Connor’s writing gave her the opportunity to learn and relearn the virtues of self-knowledge and humility: by seeing her own sinfulness in some of her characters she recognized her own need for mercy. But O’Connor did not believe that art is merely self-expression – another problematic legacy of the Romantic era. Rather, she saw herself as a “Christian realist,” and believed that art had to do justice to the world beyond the self. In one of her letters O’Connor writes: “Maritain says that to produce a work of art requires the ‘constant attention of the purified mind,’ and the business of purified mind in this case is to see that those elements of the personality that don’t bear on the subject at hand are excluded. Stories don’t lie when left to themselves. Everything has to be subordinated to a whole which is not you. Any story I reveal myself completely in will be a bad story.”

imagination & creativity

I’m teaching a session on God’s design — as it relates to imagination & creativity — this week.  My preparatory study has been exhilerating.  (More in a future post?)

I’ve stumbled upon a new on-line acquaintance (I hope to make friend): Gregory Wolfe.  (Have you met him already?)  Mr. Wolfe is saying some things I think Jesus’ followers need desperately to hear.

I was indicted by his article Art, Faith, & Stewardship of Culture with [his] reference to “unwitting disciples of Karl Marx” and delighted by his article In God’s Image: Do Good People Make Good Art and the correlative concept that creativity is a constant invitation to virtue.  (Of course, both of these bits need badly the thoughtful and nuanced context provided with their respective articles in full-length.)

It’s so encouraging that some fellow sojourners are using their creative gifts to engage with our wide-world … in many of its dimensions.

dwelling in possibility

Had a great conversation with one of my roommates this evening.  We were discussing the need to embrace limitations and our own finitude, in order to walk in the way of wisdom.  My roommate made the observation that, Emily Dickinson (that poetic genius who “dwelt in possibility“) spent most of her fifty-six years living and breathing in one (same) home.

My roommate went on to tell of an exhortation she heard several years ago during a high school commencement speech: Live Poetically.  Poems, she reminded, best showcase their themes through the distillation of thoughts, ideas, feelings …

What might it mean for us to embrace limitations (in commitments, in relationships … in our daily activities), in order to live poetically?

I’m committing anew to the question …

eponine’s my (les-mis) fav …

Though–’tis true–I find so many of the characters & themes altogether compelling.  Had the chance to fall in love all over again with this production (though the Starlight-staging was not my fav).  A snip-it for those who missed its recent visit to KC …

another reason to love kansas

 

 

 

 

 

 

Driving through the Flint Hills today, I was reminded of how beautiful the plains can be.  I’ve spent about 15 hours on the road in the last two days; it’s been awesome to watch the wheat harvest underway.  (And such road time has allowed for a ton of thinking and praying.)  Happy today for my home-State …

i laughed my fool-head off

A friend of mine invited me to Starlight’s The Drowsy Chaperone tonite. I don’t remember the last time I manufactured so many rounds of legitimate, gut-busting, giggles. (I could not stop myself!) I knew nothing of this Tony-award-winning-show going in; I positively loved it. If you can spring even $10 for the cheap seats (that’s where we sat), it’ll be worth every penny!

Here’s a teaser:

i’m the worst at swallowing pills

I’ve had one stuck in the back of my throat for a good hour or so.  Why?  (Is this guy really onto something?!)  I dunno.

about all i can do

I’ve so missed rambling on-line in recent days.  It’s been about all I can do to hold down a saltine cracker, so thinking–or even simply typing–has seemed out of the question. 

I’ll try to leave it at that.  (But must ask: why is it that the goriest moments of illness spark such an inclination to impose detail on the masses?!  Is it the glory of having survived such extremes?!)

I came down sick last Sunday morning (at 3:13 a.m., to be exact).  I was flat on my back (or hunched over the toilet) for the next 3 days.  And, though I made it into the office on Wed & Thurs, my “system” has yet to find full recovery.  (Tomorrow must be the day!)  For the last couple of days, I’ve been working toward that delicate balance of caloric intake/stomache discomfort.  A ratio nobody likes to figure out … especially those of us who like to eat.

But even as I have been about my own art & science, one ms. annie lennox has–herself–been working on proper ratios: artistry & soul.  Tonite, I caught up on her class performance after my date for the evening (little Ethan) was snuggled cozy in his bed.  The entire evening (precious, compassionate Ethan Cole and classy, soul-singin’ Annie Lennox) made me feel almost truly well again.

In celebration of them …

 

how cool is this place?

Browsing through some old trip pics; loving Venice all over again …

another reason to love it …

American Idol, that is.  And the reason?  Contestant, Jason Castro, inviting us to listen once again …