Saturday, December 15, 2007
PAINTINGS
The painting that hung over the couch in my parent's living room now hangs in my bedroom. Though the location isn't quite as prominent, its place in my gallery of early impressions is as important as ever. In the picture, three Conestoga wagons are being pulled by teams of oxen across a barren western landscape. The ruin of an earlier wagon and the carcass of a less fortunate ox are in the foreground, but can't diminish the spirit of hope and determination that spills from the frame.
That image helped to shape and reinforce my understanding of another time, but it didn't have to do it alone. Growing up, I galloped through Saturday mornings on the back of shows like Roy Rogers, The Lone Ranger and Hopalong Cassidy. During the week, there was Wagon Train and Rawhide. Together, those visual experiences became brush strokes on a larger canvas that defined a mythical west. Eventually, around my junior year of high school, I made a trip through South Dakota and Montana to Yellowstone National Park that forever changed my western fantasies.
Imagery, illusion, fantasy and myth are like stained glass windows to the world. When that world doesn’t make sense, they help to fit the discordant pieces into a mosaic that we can live with. In real life, it’s our institutions, religions and the body politic that help to shape the impressions that sustain us over time. Without their input, we are more likely to wind up like the wreck of the prairie schooner in my painting.
The pioneers, who survived their westward trek, found a new life. But the thing that they were seeking was freedom. They wanted freedom from hopelessness and economic stagnation. They also must have had a healthy appetite for adventure. In the Bible, John states that…
“Ye shall know the truth and the truth shall make you free.”
Isn’t it ironic that, while they were seeking freedom, the pioneers found the truth? How could they not? After months of unending hardship and deprivation, their lives were anything but fantasy or illusion. Not so today.
Today, we seem to thrive on myth. Fictional images abound and range from those found in our video games and movies to the ones that fill up the evening news. It’s almost as though we’ve painted ourselves into a corner with the illusions that surround us. But, like the pioneers, we can still hope, if only because the act of recognizing the paintings in our lives moves us an inch closer to the truth.
Here’s hoping that all of your brush strokes this Holiday Season, whether real or imaginary, bring you scenes of joy and peace.
With Good Tidings . . . from 2007
PBOB
The painting that hung over the couch in my parent's living room now hangs in my bedroom. Though the location isn't quite as prominent, its place in my gallery of early impressions is as important as ever. In the picture, three Conestoga wagons are being pulled by teams of oxen across a barren western landscape. The ruin of an earlier wagon and the carcass of a less fortunate ox are in the foreground, but can't diminish the spirit of hope and determination that spills from the frame.
That image helped to shape and reinforce my understanding of another time, but it didn't have to do it alone. Growing up, I galloped through Saturday mornings on the back of shows like Roy Rogers, The Lone Ranger and Hopalong Cassidy. During the week, there was Wagon Train and Rawhide. Together, those visual experiences became brush strokes on a larger canvas that defined a mythical west. Eventually, around my junior year of high school, I made a trip through South Dakota and Montana to Yellowstone National Park that forever changed my western fantasies.
Imagery, illusion, fantasy and myth are like stained glass windows to the world. When that world doesn’t make sense, they help to fit the discordant pieces into a mosaic that we can live with. In real life, it’s our institutions, religions and the body politic that help to shape the impressions that sustain us over time. Without their input, we are more likely to wind up like the wreck of the prairie schooner in my painting.
The pioneers, who survived their westward trek, found a new life. But the thing that they were seeking was freedom. They wanted freedom from hopelessness and economic stagnation. They also must have had a healthy appetite for adventure. In the Bible, John states that…
“Ye shall know the truth and the truth shall make you free.”
Isn’t it ironic that, while they were seeking freedom, the pioneers found the truth? How could they not? After months of unending hardship and deprivation, their lives were anything but fantasy or illusion. Not so today.
Today, we seem to thrive on myth. Fictional images abound and range from those found in our video games and movies to the ones that fill up the evening news. It’s almost as though we’ve painted ourselves into a corner with the illusions that surround us. But, like the pioneers, we can still hope, if only because the act of recognizing the paintings in our lives moves us an inch closer to the truth.
Here’s hoping that all of your brush strokes this Holiday Season, whether real or imaginary, bring you scenes of joy and peace.
With Good Tidings . . . from 2007
PBOB
