Lost in the Evidence

Tin man in Tin armor,
City-loving farmer,
Eagle Scout and musician,
Questions, queries, unanswered ambition:
Finding Me.

Christian, Oldest child, Romantic, romantic, Ginger, goal-oriented, focused, trumpet player, brass lover, Romantic era, big orchestras, principled, sap, music-lover, deep thinker, broken and bandaged heart, lover of family, big brother, patriot, UT fan, athlete, double-major, possible grad student, heart-breaker, player, exhausted, confused, obnoxious laugh, affectionate friend, flirt, sweet-tooth, afraid of needles, spiral staircase lover, fictional writer, aspiring poet, confidante, goober, goofball, addict, extrovert, touchy-feely, writer of letters, liar, lover of politics, movie collector, nostalgic, smeller of books, natural leader, public speaker, improv, classy, jazz, farmer, Eagle, hard things, Legos, Zelda, Simple Things, Beauty in the small, Words, capital letters, etc., so on, and so forth.

Afraid to commit,

Risk completely spent,

Hide in my shell,

Wish them all well:

Protecting Her.

Who is my Her?  I don't know.  Who am I?  I don't know.  Where am I going?  I don't know (this reminds me of a negative version of the Zoboomafoo theme song...).  But I do know that whoever she is doesn't want the Me I know now.  And so I try and protect all the Hers out there.  But I fail.  I wonder why the terrible things happen.  I wonder why the dragons of my life persist.  But I keep pressing on, still not knowing, still hoping to be a better Him.

"How should we be able to forget those ancient myths that are at the beginning of all peoples, the myths about dragons that at the last moment turn into princesses; perhaps all the dragons of our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us once beautiful and brave.  Perhaps everything terrible is in its deepest being something helpless that wants help from us."  -Rainer Maria Rilke

...one day later...

P.S. (Because sometimes other things need to be said that are too curtailed to say in another post...and besides, who posts two posts within a day of each other, really?)

The English language is crazy.  I made a little note at the end of my International Relations Notes that says the following:

Baloo blew until blue.  Write rite right. The board is aboard the bored board.

What?

Also, have you ever wondered what would happen if you mixed up tenses in English?

I did that tomorrow, you know.  I will go to the store yesterday.

I hear the makings of a Lewisesque story.  My mind has been down the Rabbit Hole of late.  Which would explain away the "good-heavens-I feel-like-I-fell-off-a cliff-after-that-mood-change" post script you just read.

C'est la vie.

Live the Question: Pursuance of Art

"When God created - and in that way made the perception of beauty and the human creation of art possible - he gave art a place in this world in which we live; and that world he called good.  Art is here because God meant it to be here."  - H.R. Rookmaaker

Imagine: as soon as God created, Art came into being.  It was the first thing to truly exist in our Universe, in our Reality.  Sure, He made Light first.  But in the same words he breathed Light into being, Art took shape too.  There was no war, no worries, no struggle.  In God's perfect Universe, alongside everything He created, there was Art.  God called this world Good.  Perfection centered around existence, praise to God, and Art.  After the Fall, that changed.  War and worry were added.  Our focus was violently shifted.  But Art is still out there, just waiting to be pursued.

In our society today, the arts are being mercilessly cut and removed from our education system to make way for the "essentials."  But really, when God created the Universe, were social studies, Language, Math, and Science the focus?  Not at all.  They were all in the working background.  I do not mean to say that these disciplines are unimportant; on the contrary, these disciplines hold the fabric of the Universe together.  But they are not the zenith of God's beautiful creation.  Always, there is Art.

There are some great people throughout history who have not forgotten this truth: Art is made to be pursued.
 Art is the capstone of every civilization.  In every Golden Age, the pinnacle is creativity.  Why do we remember the Golden Age of Athens or of Rome?  Great philosophers, sculptors, orators, painters: artists.  The nearest any civilization has come to perfection is always highlighted by the deepest Creativity.  There is a quote that is floating around on the internet: "When Winston Churchill was asked to cut arts funding in favor of the war effort, he simply replied 'then what are we fighting for?'"  The quote isn't verified to actually be Churchill's, but even if it isn't, the truth of those words has resonated in my head ever since I first read it.  Why on earth are we cutting funding to the Arts?  What then, are we fighting for?  Are we abandoning our Golden Age?  It seems we are no longer pursuing what characterizes the things that give the Lord deep glory.  It seems we are no longer pursuing perfection.

I have been searching for who I am for quite a long time, as most of you are aware if you read any of what I write.  Recently, however, I have decided that I want to be a music professor.  I love music; it is my Art.  I love writing; it is my Art.  Pursuing a graduate degree in music theory or music history (or both) is a place I can write and perform, and I can influence coming generations towards things that truly matter.

Like finding and using their Art for a Purpose that really matters.

And learning when a word needs to be capitalized.

I've been reading a lot of Rainer Maria Rilke's "Letters to a Young Poet" recently (sincerely thankful a dear friend gave me that wonderfully insightful book), and I was led to the following quote that helped solidify in my mind that I'm on the right track.

"You are so young, so before all beginning, and I want to beg you, as much as I can, dear sir, to be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves like locked rooms and like books that are written in a very foreign tongue.  Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them.  And the point is, to live everything.  Live the questions now.  Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer."

I am not claiming to have The Answer.  I assume that will not come until very few breaths remain in me.  If any.  But I do know I feel as if I have been given some new sense of direction, and I am following it.  I feel somewhere deep within me that it is leading me toward the Art that I have, for most of my life, greatly enjoyed but thought I would someday have to give up.  A part of me feels an odd sense of completion that I am being pushed in a direction that will not require me to give them up, but instead to pursue them.  To pursue my Art - my offer of praise to the ultimate Artist.

The past few weeks I have had small glimpses into the true definition and existence of Art with a capital A.  I am immersed in its beauty in ways I never believed possible, and in ways that nothing else can achieve.  I have no witty or strategic way to incorporate the following three poems I wrote under music's influence.  As you read them, try to imagine the most beautiful and all-encompassing thing you've ever experienced.  These are the feelings I have tried to capture.  I feel as if I'm in the middle of a vortex of words of pleasure, and in reaching my hands out I can only grasp a few.  Know that many more wonderful words and feelings still rage about me.

Overwash and flow,
Sing, violin's bow,
Flood my senses,
Beautiful, yearning, pensive:
Intense musical pleasure.

Shiver down the spine,

Whisper in time,

So much pleasure,

Measure after measure:

Musically Aroused.

Back of the mind,

Rolling in time,

On or off the seat,

Plagued by the beat:

Drum fill.

I don't know for certain where I am going.  I don't know the answer, but I am living the question.  

I am pursuing my Art.  

Music and words dance constantly through my head.  Lord, please don't let the dance stop.