"Art for Life's Sake", Wall Street Journal, November 2 & 3, 2013, Alain de Botton.

You know, I don't take time to mull things over in my mind much.  I read and move on to the next thing most of the time.  Not all the time, but I am a little ashamed to say that that's what I frequently do.  This article is a great one for those who enjoy this kind of thing...as I do.  Art, why art, what does art do in our lives, or what do we make it do in our lives.  Why do we enjoy what we enjoy in a piece of art that we are drawn to? 

De Botton states that art has lessons in life for us.  Appreciating the those beautiful or "pretty" pieces as hope.  There is beauty to be seen in the mundane.  "Fragile" does not necessarily mean "weak".  The toll of life on our bodies and souls.  The suffering that distills dignity into our souls.

My life experience has so much to teach me, but I, agonizingly too often, run from place to place, task to task, pleasure to pleasure, challenge to challenge without processing in my soul what has happened, why I enjoy this book I'm reading, or what else I might find in it.  And so on.

This isn't to say that one can't just read something for the momentary pleasure of it.  But when I neglect to put more thought into in more than I currently do, I'm missing out on more of what's there.  For example, if I look at Michael Coleman's "Uninvited Guest", I see a bear and cub looking intently on a couple of fish that someone caught who has momentarily left his fish for another task.  The setting is the deep woods.  When I look at it, I think of my grandmother who liked wildlife so much, my grandfather who enjoyed fishing, the woods where I spent so much time with my grandmother, my childhood friend, by myself.  There's the thought of the man and the bears who both enjoy such a naturally provided meal as fish.  The bears are contemplating these fish, and, I imagine, with a few more seconds, will pull them down and eat them.

A simple analysis, I'm sure.  But this is what my thoughts produce as I take more time than I would in a museum going from piece to piece on the walls or trying to read what the placards say about each.

Art.  Love it.  Show it to children.  Put it on your walls.  Buy it--prints, canvases, postcards--whatever your budget allows for a bit of it.  Walk through museum doors.

Ralph & I went kayaking yesterday at Lake Cleveland on Mount Harrison with the hopes of catching some fish.  We succeeded in kayaking, but the fish....  It was the middle of the day by the time we headed out to the mountains, there were playful shrieks, giggling and laughing, swimming of dogs and people all around the lake.  So, we didn't catch anything, but it was a fun time.

As we drove out, and as we drove around in the desert wilderness, I noticed that, amidst the browns of the sand and greens of the sage brush, there were subtle spots of colors beautifully placed around.  I don't remember what they were, except different kinds of paintbrush in some spots, but that didn't account for the blues and purples, which I also saw.  Yarrow, Queen Anne's Lace.  But I can't name them all.  A treat for the eyes.  The landscape of the desert, just like any other landscape, has beauty.  But those other colors...they were like a personal acknowledgement from God.

Books I Love

Generally, I do not buy a book unless I know I'll read it more than once.  Often, that means I've borrowed it from the library first, or I am familiar enough with the story to feel like spending the money, or the topic interests me so much and I've heard trustworthy reviews of it.

Here's a list of some of my favorites over the years:

The Little House Series, Laura Ingalls Wilder (I've read this many times throughout the years.)
Rascal, Sterling North
A Light in the Forest, Conrad Richter
84, Charing Cross Road, Helene Hanff
Most of Charles Dickens's novels
Les Miserables, Victor Hugo
The Greater Journey, David McCullough
John Adams, David McCullough
1776, David McCullough
Brave Companions, David McCullough

Truth

I've been reading The Greater Journey, by David McCullough about Americans who went to Paris in the 19th century to enhance their education and bring back their new knowledge to the United States.  Paris was the cultural and medical center of the world at that time.  For example, medical students, such as Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr., James Jackson, Jr. and others who, during their 20's, most of them, went to learn their profession.  But they not only learned their profession, they remarked how much they valued truth.  Others, such as Samuel Morse, whom most of us know first because of his telegraph, went to study and practice painting, writing.  Charles Sumner, who eventually became an anti-slavery legislator, went simply to learn more.  He put his mind to whatever learning he could. 

Truth to me is usually beauty.  The above photo is from the paths of the Joseph Smith Memorial in Sharon, VT during the spring of 2011.  This scene's only human contrivance is the path that leads through it.  The new green of the leaves, the tall, dark tree trunk, the underbrush, the brown, dead leaves that have returned to the forest floor to nourish it.  It's all beautiful! 

Truth to me is learning how the body works and how perfectly it was designed to maintain our lives, repair itself, work and improve the mind, exert physical labor and take in nutrition to keep it healthy.  It knows how to extract what doesn't belong in it or it has ways of letting us know to help it.  Truth is seeing the desert with the sagebrush scattered all over the earth floor, wildflowers here and there to add beauty to is and nutrition to whatever life is there that can use it.

Truth means knowledge and use of knowledge to improve one's mind to assist, to create, to think, to solve problems, to help, to beautify, to appreciate, to improve.  I love truth.  It's vast and overwhelming and exhilarating.  Truth is looking at the sky at night and down a mountain during the day.  Truth is feeling healthy, building--building people up, building necessary structures, learning about our world.  Truth is learning history, sorting things out properly. 

This is a feeble attempt to describe my feelings about truth and what it is.  I understand so very little about the things that interest me most--astronomy, anatomy, history, geology, writing, geography, nature in all of its manifestations, languages, and the list goes on. 

My goal is to pursue it.  My challenge is that I'm very imperfect.  I make lots of mistakes along the way, but I'm trying.

Gifts

Tonight, I've been thinking about gifts.  The kind that make you and others happy.  The kind you can't package.  Talents.  Wouldn't it be great for those of us who cannot play an instrument to be able to sit down and play the piano for solace or for fun or a rousing jam session?!  Alas!  Playing a musical instrument is not a talent I have mastered. 

However, just because it is not currently a talent, can I say that it is not a gift?  Maybe I have it in me, but I simply haven't worked it out.  I started learning the electric keyboard (a very simple and cheap one at that) on my own with an instruction book and hymns.  With practice, I was really getting the hang of it and could see myself being able to hold my own in a small sort of way eventually.  However, a family tragedy struck and I spent my time driving and worrying and sleeping and working.  That's not to say I can't pick it up again. 

What other talents are there out there?  Painting, singing, drawing, listening to others, being peaceful, gardening, birding, planning, designing, enjoying the world, learning and teaching the outdoors, survivalism, leadership, parenting.  Not everyone is good at all of these, some have mastered a few.  I think all of us have mastered something.  But then, for different stages in our lives, maybe our interests and needs change or the needs of those around us, and we leave the further development of one talent to tackle another and serve others as well as ourselves with a new one. 

I used to think I needed to master it all to be worth something.  But I don't.  David McCullough's writing is a comfortable livingroom where I can sit and enjoy what happened years ago in American history and feel uplifted and motivated when I finish.  I haven't yet developed that talent, but I can sure appreciate his, and it has enhanced my life. 

This is a huge topic to discuss!  And it's fun, motivating!  Imagine the possibilities out there for all of us!  Enjoy the search and the learning!  I plan to!

Hi.  My name is Linda.  It's not Linda the Great nor Linda the Mediocre.  It's Linda with Lots of Potential and She Keeps Trying.  I'm, first, a New Englander, but I say "Harvard Yard" and not "Hahvahd Yahd".  I have a strong attachment to the Boston Red Sox.  I love the greenery and hills and mountains, the meandering brooks along meandering roads.  John Adams is one of my heros.  My parents are both from Vermont originally.  They worked long and hard all their lives, Mom as a nurse, and Dad as a milkman.  Yes, the one who used to deliver to your home and business, then only to your business. 

Paris, Montreal, Boston, New York City, Salt Lake City are all part of my experience as are Hatfield, Dexter, Windsor Locks, Paul, Ammon, Newbury.  I've seen the Grand Canyon, but not yet Acadia National Park.  I've kayaked with my husband Ralph on the Snake River, but I haven't been able to spend much time with my youngest niece Maggie who lives on the other side of the country from me.  I in Idaho and she in Connecticut.

Here goes my attempt at blogging!  Join me anytime!