I’m thinking of a word.
Actually I’m usually thinking of some word. It’s part of being a Jew. Jews are awed by and extremely careful about using the power of words. One of my favorite Jewish proverbs (proverb with a small “p”), not terribly pc but provoking: A translated poem is like a beautiful woman. The more beautiful it is, the less faithful. The more faithful, the less beautiful.
Choosing the right words to reflect the meaning of other carefully chosen words.
Choosing the right words to express a reaction to art is probably much, much easier (sorry, paid critics). All it takes is time, honesty, and lack of intent. Those three rules are the rules for finding decriptors to what is seen. Just describing; no rush, no alterier influences, no alterior motives. Then you can know what you see, and how you are really reacting to it. Now that it’s (what you see) inside of you, you can decide how you react to it. Not how to react, just how you react. When this happens, something happens. When you realize how you react, a connection is made.
That is understanding the dance of the Shiva and the vaccuum of the Rothko, and the mystery of the Rouault and the proud danger of the Kline (see earlier posts). But be very careful of that word, understanding. Don’t think you are understanding Franz or Georges or Mark or the 500 year-old Indian sculptor. What you have an understanding of is the work of art. You have a connection with it. And to “get it” you must lose some alterior motives and influences. You must lose the constant feeling that YOU NEED TO GET IT. You lose some of ego, some of yourself. You give something of yourself up to the process of pulling something else in close.
Robbie’s (my son, the Bar Mitzvah) sermon for his service is about the role of sacrifice for the ancients in bringing God closer. He mentions that the Hebrew word for scarifice actually translates as, “to draw close”. He mentions that God doesn’t really need us to draw close. It is we who feel the need to draw close. And to do so we need to give something of ourselves up. Then do we feel connection, closeness.
And that, maybe, is why so many people find it challenging or even frightening to look at art. Especially ambiguous art. We are not used to the idea of attaining something through letting something go. There are probably a thousand other problems this can be applied to: marriage, career, foreign policy…
Sacrifice to us means giving something up. Nah, it just means realxing our grip on a thing enough that it can come or go as is necessary, to make room for something else.
So that’s the word for the day. Sacrifice.
When I look to my goals, my job, my future, it means letting go, relaxing a little bit of the daily bits of discomfort.
I totaled my truck yesterday. I was spending too much on gas anyway.
peace, love,
d
