on thursday our philosophy class attempted to meditate according to a directive tape, where an English translator spoke over the voice of the original Chinese language. the directions were not simple; in fact, they became so complicated that it tested both my mental focus and my physical ability to maintain the positions required. at the very beginning of the tape, the man said that we each had to take our hands and place one over the other a few inches apart from each other, and then keep them an inch or two away from our bodies. additionally, our hands had to be so that the lower hand was next to the navel and the other was centered with our chest. immediately after, he said that females had to have their right hand on top and males had to have their left hand on top. this was interesting, because at that moment, more than half of the people in the class had to switch their hands. what does this mean? my initial instinct was to put my left hand above my right, rather than the correct way. it was probably at this point that i started to lose focus. after moving past my initial frustration of having to remain in an "uncomfortable" position, i began to refocus my attention on the voice. the English voice was so quiet and calm in comparison to the quick, unfamiliar sounds flowing out of the Chinese man's mouth. he spoke like a friend; like he was right next to me, watching as i fumbled and then immediately gave me new directions. it was as if i was making every mistake he had luckily anticipated. fortunately, after getting into the appropriate, correct starting posture, he changed aim. rather than focusing on our bodies physically from an external standpoint, we were asked to imagine a light beam shooting through our foreheads into our heads, bending so it came out of our nostrils, and then aimed at hitting our bottom hand so that it could enter our bodies again through the navel. i absolutely loved this image. for whatever reason, it totally clicked inside. maybe those directions weren't even right...i honestly couldn't say. but that's what i imagined, and it took me to a deeper state of mind. it was like i could feel the light inside me, cleaning and inspecting every square millimeter of my body, from the inside-out. amazing. in retrospect, i think it makes sense that this was the part i connected to the most, because i have always had a strong attraction to light (mainly sunshine). there were two other parts of the exercise that i remember as well: the pores and the lotus flower. each of these images was also very touching, but for different reasons. i was sick on the day of the meditation, so the pore exercise was meant to relieve myself of the sickness, releasing it through my pores at the end of each breath. my skin was a membrane, granting permission for fresh life and air to enter my body whilst forcing the negative pathogens within me out. the voice indicated that for ill people, during each inhalation you should imagine every pore on your body open and for each exhalation they should also be open until the very last second of your breath, when you transition back into inhaling. this was contrary to healthy people, who simply had to imagine their pores open at they inhaled, and closed as they exhaled. i don't know if this makes me crazy or not, but i was convinced that this process would heal me (or at least, that it could if i allowed it to). (in fact, this was the main reason i was upset that i couldn't maintain my focus and had to stop the meditation process early.) later, Mr. Summers told us that this was indeed a traditional medical practice for healing in China. (in case you're wondering-the coughs and congestion actually did stop for the rest of the day, but started up again during crew practice...) finally, a lotus flower began to pulse within my lower abdomen. its petals swayed to and fro, opening and closing as they twisted. the lotus flower was my heart. it controlled my inner consciousness. it was like an dimly-lit orb portraying the steady beat of life within a living beast, making me wild, but controlled. that it what we are. wild, but controlled. i think the lotus flower was the most powerful image for me, because it was embodied constancy. i loved the exercise all-in-all even though my legs went numb, encouraging me to call it quits for the first time. i'll definitely try this again. can't wait for the uncontrolled swaying and standing to occur. :)
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Thursday, January 19, 2012
What Is Art?
Today in class we began a discussion on the definition of art. The two questions addressed the function and role of art, as well as the role of censorship in the United States. One of the articles in our textbook mentioned an artist whose works are generally considered offensive and obscene. This led to a discussion on Andres Serrano who became notorious for his controversial pieces, his most famous being "Piss Christ" which depicts a crucifix completely submerged in Serrano's urine. My immediate reaction to this photo is similar to most people: it is deliberately crossing a line that should not be tampered with, is nasty and inappropriate, illicits the wrong emotions in the viewer, etc.. The list goes on. However, after my teacher asked us to consider it as art rather than something undeserving of that classification, I realized that it actually provokes a plethora of thoughts, and could be considered art. As well, it might not even be offensive after all. Maybe it depicts the story of Christ's crucifixion more accurately than any other crucifix. Maybe it is giving us the truth.
If art is to illicit emotion, externalize the internal desires and thoughts, or challenge others to think more deeply of issues foreign to their comfort zone, then this piece should undoubtably be considered art. I think to understand this, it's important to understand that art does not have to be beautiful or aesthetically pleasing. Is a National Geographic photo of a tarantula art? Most would say yes, even though the image of a huge, hairy spider is not particularly comforting. In addition, I believe that art does not have to be complex. Anyone can be an artist. Though this photo of a defiled crucifix is not an innately complicated idea or particularly demanding in terms of skill, the photo itself is intriguing. The light strikes the crucifix at the perfect angle, so its cross and body are lit while the surroundings remain somewhat dark. The flaws of the glass of the container are also reflected into the photograph, drawing attention away from what is within the glass and onto the fact that this image is ultimately enclosed and bound. It is surrounded with flaws in the glass--could this perhaps symbolize more than just its container? To appreciate art fully, we must accept that not all art is going to please us, but may still affect us. While some art is meant to be deliberately offensive (and only offensive), I think there is a difference between Serrano's "Piss Christ" and other forms of anti-religious art, such as Lady Gaga's music video for her hit, "Alejandro", which I find to be completely worthless in its lack of an original, personal attack on religion. Nonetheless, please know that I do sympathize with those who find this offensive, as that was my initial reaction.
In class, I briefly gave a potential defense of the "Piss Christ" by saying that through the urine, Serrano may actually be trying to depict the humanity of Christ in a more complete manner. If Jesus Christ was truly fully man and fully God, then wouldn't it make sense to juxtapose the holiness that Christ could have enjoyed without coming to give salvation to Christians with the raw, disgusting human nature he ultimately accepted for out sake? Urinating, sneezing, coughing, crying, hurting, bleeding--these are the most nasty, human functions of the human body. When Christ accepted humanity, he accepted the raw, terrible, ugly parts of it. Not just the beautiful hair, soft skin, bright eyes. He lived like us. Animal-like. I think one interpretation of this photograph could be this: that by accepting humanity knowing that he would be crucified on a cross 33 years later, Christ was submerging himself in the ugliness of our world, the ugliness of our lives, and of ourselves. This is the fully-developed thought of what I briefly mentioned in class today.
A second interpretation I have of this artwork, is that the defilement of the crucifix by the artist (because he submerged a holy relic in his urine) is actually a representation of the the defilement of Christ by the majority of his own people when he was crucified. At the time, he was even denied by his own disciple, Peter. In the Bible, when Jesus Christ was crucified, each of the four gospels places a particular emphasis on the fact that those around him- friends and foes alike- mocked and ridiculed him. Proof:
Matthew 27: 28-31: "And they stripped him and put a scarlet robe on him, and twisting together a crown of thorns, they put it on his head and took a reed and struck him on the head. And when they had mocked him, they stripped him of the robe...".
Mark 15: 29-30: "And those who passed by derided him, wagging their heads and saying, 'Aha! You who would destroy the temple and rebuild it in three days, save yourself, and come down from the cross!'"
Luke 23: 18-25: "But they all cried out together, 'Away with this man, and release to us Barabbas'--a man who had been thrown into prison for an insurrection started in the city and for murder. Pilate addressed them once more, desiring to release Jesus, but they kept shouting, 'Crucify him! Crucify him!' A third time, he said to them, 'Why, what evil has he done? I have found in him no guilt deserving death. I will therefore punish and release him.' But they were urgent, demanding with loud cries that he should be crucified. And their voices prevailed."
John 19: 6-7: "When the chief priests and the officers saw him, they cried out, 'Crucify him, crucify him!' Pilate said to them, 'Take him yourselves and crucify him, for I find no guilt in him.' The Jews answered him, 'We have a law, and according to that law he ought to die because he has made himself the Son of God.'"
As you can see, it was not only the chief priests and soldiers who wanted him crucified, but the Jews themselves: God's own people. I guess my point is that urinating on a crucifix is nothing compared to ordering that same depicted man, a perfect God, to be crucified. What makes this photograph so shocking and offensive is its truthful portrayal of the people that once denied and murdered Christ...the same people that now claim to have his grace. Of any viewer of "Piss Christ", I'd argue that Christians and Catholics should feel the most guilt, because it was for their sins that Christ sacrificed himself, and because of their misunderstanding that he died.
I do not know why Serrano made this piece of art, but yes, I do think it is art. As you can see, there is not just one layer to this photograph, and certainly cannot be judged based on its title. Without it in fact, I do not even think I would have found the image remotely offensive. It is actually quite beautiful and stunning, because it shows a glowing, golden Christ. Through all the mutilation and pain Christ had to suffer as a human, his glory shines through. Perhaps this initally offensive photograph is actually the closest thing we have to understanding through art, the true beauty of what Christ accomplished.
This is only one interpretation, just one opinion. I'm not asking you to embrace it. Maybe just think about it?
If art is to illicit emotion, externalize the internal desires and thoughts, or challenge others to think more deeply of issues foreign to their comfort zone, then this piece should undoubtably be considered art. I think to understand this, it's important to understand that art does not have to be beautiful or aesthetically pleasing. Is a National Geographic photo of a tarantula art? Most would say yes, even though the image of a huge, hairy spider is not particularly comforting. In addition, I believe that art does not have to be complex. Anyone can be an artist. Though this photo of a defiled crucifix is not an innately complicated idea or particularly demanding in terms of skill, the photo itself is intriguing. The light strikes the crucifix at the perfect angle, so its cross and body are lit while the surroundings remain somewhat dark. The flaws of the glass of the container are also reflected into the photograph, drawing attention away from what is within the glass and onto the fact that this image is ultimately enclosed and bound. It is surrounded with flaws in the glass--could this perhaps symbolize more than just its container? To appreciate art fully, we must accept that not all art is going to please us, but may still affect us. While some art is meant to be deliberately offensive (and only offensive), I think there is a difference between Serrano's "Piss Christ" and other forms of anti-religious art, such as Lady Gaga's music video for her hit, "Alejandro", which I find to be completely worthless in its lack of an original, personal attack on religion. Nonetheless, please know that I do sympathize with those who find this offensive, as that was my initial reaction.
In class, I briefly gave a potential defense of the "Piss Christ" by saying that through the urine, Serrano may actually be trying to depict the humanity of Christ in a more complete manner. If Jesus Christ was truly fully man and fully God, then wouldn't it make sense to juxtapose the holiness that Christ could have enjoyed without coming to give salvation to Christians with the raw, disgusting human nature he ultimately accepted for out sake? Urinating, sneezing, coughing, crying, hurting, bleeding--these are the most nasty, human functions of the human body. When Christ accepted humanity, he accepted the raw, terrible, ugly parts of it. Not just the beautiful hair, soft skin, bright eyes. He lived like us. Animal-like. I think one interpretation of this photograph could be this: that by accepting humanity knowing that he would be crucified on a cross 33 years later, Christ was submerging himself in the ugliness of our world, the ugliness of our lives, and of ourselves. This is the fully-developed thought of what I briefly mentioned in class today.
A second interpretation I have of this artwork, is that the defilement of the crucifix by the artist (because he submerged a holy relic in his urine) is actually a representation of the the defilement of Christ by the majority of his own people when he was crucified. At the time, he was even denied by his own disciple, Peter. In the Bible, when Jesus Christ was crucified, each of the four gospels places a particular emphasis on the fact that those around him- friends and foes alike- mocked and ridiculed him. Proof:
Matthew 27: 28-31: "And they stripped him and put a scarlet robe on him, and twisting together a crown of thorns, they put it on his head and took a reed and struck him on the head. And when they had mocked him, they stripped him of the robe...".
Mark 15: 29-30: "And those who passed by derided him, wagging their heads and saying, 'Aha! You who would destroy the temple and rebuild it in three days, save yourself, and come down from the cross!'"
Luke 23: 18-25: "But they all cried out together, 'Away with this man, and release to us Barabbas'--a man who had been thrown into prison for an insurrection started in the city and for murder. Pilate addressed them once more, desiring to release Jesus, but they kept shouting, 'Crucify him! Crucify him!' A third time, he said to them, 'Why, what evil has he done? I have found in him no guilt deserving death. I will therefore punish and release him.' But they were urgent, demanding with loud cries that he should be crucified. And their voices prevailed."
John 19: 6-7: "When the chief priests and the officers saw him, they cried out, 'Crucify him, crucify him!' Pilate said to them, 'Take him yourselves and crucify him, for I find no guilt in him.' The Jews answered him, 'We have a law, and according to that law he ought to die because he has made himself the Son of God.'"
As you can see, it was not only the chief priests and soldiers who wanted him crucified, but the Jews themselves: God's own people. I guess my point is that urinating on a crucifix is nothing compared to ordering that same depicted man, a perfect God, to be crucified. What makes this photograph so shocking and offensive is its truthful portrayal of the people that once denied and murdered Christ...the same people that now claim to have his grace. Of any viewer of "Piss Christ", I'd argue that Christians and Catholics should feel the most guilt, because it was for their sins that Christ sacrificed himself, and because of their misunderstanding that he died.
I do not know why Serrano made this piece of art, but yes, I do think it is art. As you can see, there is not just one layer to this photograph, and certainly cannot be judged based on its title. Without it in fact, I do not even think I would have found the image remotely offensive. It is actually quite beautiful and stunning, because it shows a glowing, golden Christ. Through all the mutilation and pain Christ had to suffer as a human, his glory shines through. Perhaps this initally offensive photograph is actually the closest thing we have to understanding through art, the true beauty of what Christ accomplished.
This is only one interpretation, just one opinion. I'm not asking you to embrace it. Maybe just think about it?
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
flowerssunshinehappiness
"Home" by Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros. Things I have learned through this song: (BTW this was also one of my examples of a piece of art that gave me an epiphany...the other was a line from Stardust by Neil Gaiman where the star, Yvaine, tells Tristan how it was the love she witnessed in the world that convinced her that we humans were worth lighting and watching... how war and violence do not and never will define life...it's very beautiful.)
I should have been 17 in the 1960s. I want to sing in trees. I want to fall in love. There really is no place like home. Home can be in a lot of places. Home is when I am with my family. Home is when I'm on the school turf at 1 in the morning with the Fieldfolk. Home is when the sun is shining. Home is when an orchid smells. Home is when someone surprise hugs me from behind. Home is when I listen to this song. Home is when I push through a brutal race. Home is when the weather is in the high 60s or 70s with a light breeze and the smell of fresh. Home is when both my family and friends unite at my dinner table to laugh. Home is when Bichou wakes me up by sitting on my head. Home is bright, warm and fleathery.
I should have been 17 in the 1960s. I want to sing in trees. I want to fall in love. There really is no place like home. Home can be in a lot of places. Home is when I am with my family. Home is when I'm on the school turf at 1 in the morning with the Fieldfolk. Home is when the sun is shining. Home is when an orchid smells. Home is when someone surprise hugs me from behind. Home is when I listen to this song. Home is when I push through a brutal race. Home is when the weather is in the high 60s or 70s with a light breeze and the smell of fresh. Home is when both my family and friends unite at my dinner table to laugh. Home is when Bichou wakes me up by sitting on my head. Home is bright, warm and fleathery.
About Time
Below is a composition of excerpts from one of my college essays that I later elongated both to better describe my relationship with a tree and also to practice writing. Probably still very rough around the edges. But today has been critical for me; I am in the process of regaining an understanding of who I used to be and discovering who I am. The first thing I thought to read was this essay. Sometimes things happen that you can't control and are forced to permit and accept, even if they are sickening and feel wrong. Before I can address those things however, I need to deal with the blow they've taken to my identity as seen by those that I care about and value the most. I think it's about time I self-evaluate.
White and golden roots grip the sloping mud of a dark, forbidden soil. Its contrasting hue and magnitude tempt me to disregard my hesitation and succumb to the pleasure of exploring the only unknown part of the familiar creek and woods it belonged to. Rays of light slicing the air magnify its bulky, hunky branches that both praise the sky and reach out to me. But this tree is native to a foreign loam, on land that is not my family’s, and grows barely past my grasp. Oddly enough, no life is visible near the site; no bugs are going about their daily chores innocent of the terrifying and wondrous anomaly shading them. Even the raccoons and foxes stay away, sensing their intrusion upon the tree’s hallowed ground. The tree stands barren and supreme.
For years, I too, never dared to touch the tree. Every time I have taken a moment to leave the warmth of my grandparent’s house for the intriguing company of this tree, the image of it has been the same—flaky golden bark enveloping the most magnificent tree. Yet something threatening about its unknowns hovered in my mind, reinforced by the rule not to cross the creek. During brave moments, I would leave my gazing spot, a safe distance away, and cautiously approach it, gradually closing the gap between us until my conscience got the better of me. I would go so far as to feel the trickle of the creek’s water peek up and tickle my toes. However, for a reason beyond my comprehension, the last time I went, something changed. Not the image of the tree, but me.
Perhaps it was the dawning realization that I have a limited number of times with the tree, for, as I grow older and leave to pursue my life as a young woman, my grandparents become weaker and I am unsure of what will become of their home. Maybe I was finally giving into my curiosity after years of feeling restrained. Whatever the reason, the day of my grandmother’s birthday celebration this past October, I broke The Rule. I waited until my brother was out of sight before rushing over. Stepping across the cold mud onto the hallowed ground with an outstretched arm, I stared up into the hollows of the tree and felt the entity for the first time.
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