Art and Humanity: Thoughts from Stephen Freeman

You may remember when Stephen, from evenstephenfreeman, invited me to share my thoughts on knowing and seeking Christ in the quiet.

Now, it is my turn to host Stephen.  His writing is insightful and allows the reader to know him.  It is fascinating to read his thoughts on different ideas and encounters.  Early in February, Stephen wrote about a visit to an art museum with his wife.  It prompted me ask him to write about art.  Everyone has a unique perspective on art, and I enjoy hearing people's opinions on the subject.

I hope you enjoy his thoughts and will enjoy his other posts!

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Some people say that art is useless.  My deep love of art brings me to say that I wholeheartedly agree.

Let me explain.  To say that something is “useless” literally means that it is an object which has no use.  But, more often than not, what these people mean when they say that art is useless is that art has no practical use.  It is only for the sake of looking at and provides no practical, realistic, empirically measurable good for anyone’s real life.   An engraving, like the one shown below, cannot be used (at
least not very effectively) as a hammer or as a vehicle, or as fuel, or as anything that pragmatists would consider useful.

So I ask you, what is the "use" of this engraving.  I am an English Major, so I would have a terrific time writing you essays upon essays of what this piece means and the social implications that it holds, but really, what is its use?

Although there may be countless answers to this question, mine is simple.  It makes you think.

It gives you a reason to sit down, stop being so busy, and really thing about the nature of what it means to be human.

I saw this piece, or rather, a reproduction of this piece, while wandering through St. Augustine with my wife Caroline last year.  The artist's name is Frederick Hart, and this particular piece is called "Ex Nihilo" which means "out of nothing."  If you are able to look at this sculpture and not wonder at what it means to be alive and human, I wonder at your capacity to be amazed by beauty at all.

"Ex Nihilo" by Frederick Hart

My favorite part about this piece, and about art in general, is its complete lack of practical use.  Because if it had a practical use, it would always be in danger of being reduced to that ability.  A car, for example, is a masterful piece of genius.  Open the hood of your car while it's running and marvel at the complexity of moving parts, all working in perfect time with one another, exploding and moving with fire and water and smoke and air.  This is a work of art, but it is, more often than not, reduced to its ability to transport you from point A to point B, while playing your favorite music.

So, I am glad that art is only art and has no practical use.  This, combined with its ability to make a person think and genuinely marvel at the world we live in, is its greatest quality.  I am so truly glad that art is useless.

Someone Asked ME to Write?

Photo by: K.L.R.

Good Saturday Morning!

Recently, a friend from college invited me to guest blog for him.  I was excited and honored by his request (and a little overwhelmed, as you'll see when you read the topic).

Stephen is an awesome guy!  He is very funny (when I got lost going to visit, he told me to, "Look for the good looking CIU student."), a good conversationalist (evidenced in his writing), and a lover of truth.  He married Caroline a year and a half ago, and as far as I know, they are enjoying life together : )

Keep your eyes open, as he will be guest posting over here pretty soon!

But, for today, go check out my post on his blog!  Then, I recommend perusing his other posts.  He is a thoughtful and articulate writer.  He takes an intellectual and philosophical approach to life through his writing, but he doesn't miss the humanity.  I respect his frankness and the ways he expounds on thoughts.

Do You Have An Eleven Year Old Guest Posting?

Photo by Wendy Smith

Dear Friends, Bloggers, and Readers,

Today, I present you with the beginning of Miss Noelle S.'s book (that she has since edited; this is an earlier draft).  I edited two things, so minor that they don't change a thing.  Everything else is as it was sent.  I want you to see what a fantastic writer this ELEVEN year old is!  Noelle is an amazing girl.  She is sweet, well-read, funny, and stylish.  Oh, and her mom used to babysit me!  So, please, enjoy this lovely story, and take note of her name so when she is famous you can say, "I remember when..."

The Magical Story of Melissa Jones

By Noelle S.

Prologue - A mother of un-ordinary, Anna Jones... no we must not forget her, she bore a baby named Melissa.  Melissa was a special baby but her older brother was fierce.  He ran away and Melissa's parents died of what everyone thought was heartache.  Melissa forgot what happened and was left with her other relatives, and for what her relatives thought the magic of her parents was gone.

Chapter 1 - The Fairy

Melissa Jones stepped into her warm, big house from the bitter cold outside.  Melissa had just been sent on an errand to fetch a bag of potatoes from the market.  Melissa couldn't wait.  Tonight they were going to have Aunt Martha's famous potato soup for dinner.  Just thinking about it made her mouth water.  

Melissa's parents died when she was a young age.  She was sent to live in the "Big House of Relatives" they so called it.  She lived with her Uncle Watson, Aunt Pat, Uncle Charlie, Aunt Martha, Grandma Mary, Grandma Sherrie, (Melissa always loved how their names rhymed), Grandpa Mike, Grandpa Steve, Nelson, (whose parents were on a very long business trip), and her two cousins, twins Nick & Natalie.

Melissa crept into the kitchen quietly.  She wanted to sneak out of the house to see her best friend.  She quietly tiptoed to the counter and set the potatoes down.  She crept quietly back to the door and was almost out of the house when- "MELISSA JONES!"  Melissa, startled, turned around to meet the round, pinched face of Aunt Martha.  "What are you doing, child?" asked Aunt Martha, more kindly.

"Well, Well y-you see-"  Aunt Martha raised her eyebrows.  "I-I was just- Aunt Martha, don't be mad, I was just going to see Liv-I-I mean Olivia and I didn't want Nelson," Melissa's voice wandered off.  

"Well I suspect you should put on some winter gear.  It is almost Christmas."  Melissa nodded and slipped on her coat, hat, and mittens.

Melissa walked two miserable blocks in the freezing snow.  When she finally reached her friend Olivia's house she felt almost frozen to the bone.  She walked up the steps to the door and rang the doorbell.  "Come in!" said a cheery voice.  Melissa stepped in.  Olivia's house was an ordinary one, unlike hers.  Pictures of Olivia and her family were on the walls.  In Melissa's house paintings of old ancestors were on the walls.  A tiny chandelier hung over the tiny dinner table.  At the "Big House of Relatives" blue candles hung over the huge dinner table.  

"You must be Melissa," said the cheery voice.  Melissa, surprised, turned around to see a straight-figured woman.  She wore thin rimmed glasses and had auburn, curly hair.  She had a white dress with little roses on it that matched the color of her cheeks.  

"Um, yes," said Melissa quietly.

"Well, Olivia has wanted to see you."  The woman hesitated for a moment.  "She's been acting strange ever since last night.  You know where her room is, right?"  Melissa nodded.  Utterly confused, Melissa walked up the stairs.  

Strange acting?  Olivia?  Melissa thought.  Olivia was the most normal, kind, polite, un-strange person she knew.  Melissa politely knocked on the door labeled "Olivia."  Grandma Sherrie made it clear it was impolite not to knock.  The door cracked open and the curly blond head popped out.  "Good, it's you," whispered Olivia as she tugged Melissa by the arm inside her room.  

Olivia's room was colorful, with rainbow painted walls, bright pink bed sheets, green pillows, and light blue carpeting.  Then there was a little, yellow dollhouse that Olivia and Melissa used to play with.  But now they were tall twelve year-olds.  

"I think we need to talk," said Olivia, as they both sat down on her bed.  

"Your mother said you were acting strange ever since last night," questioned Melissa.

"Something weird happened last night," began Olivia.  "I was sleeping and - Lissy, a fairy came."

"Riggghhtttttttttt," said Melissa.  "Do you have a fever or have any medications or-"

"No, it's true, Lissy!"  

"Okay, then show me, um-"

"-Her," interrupted Olivia.  Olivia carefully made her way to the little dollhouse and put her hand out flat.  There was a faint voice which kept saying short sentences like,

"Move your giant hand forward!" or "Your big finger is on my foot!"  

Then Olivia carried in cupped hands a small three inch figure to the bed.

"Wow," was all Melissa could say.  The fairy was quite stunning.  She wore a blue, winter dress that looked like it was made from forget-me-not flowers.  She had brown, delicate braids that were piled neatly on her head and elf-looking shoes with a hint of glitter.  But what attracted Melissa the most was a glowing pouch that hung around her neck.

"You must be Melissa," said a cheery voice.  Melissa turned to the fairy.  Was that an imaginary voice? No, it was real.  It was the fairy!  

"How do you know my name?" asked Melissa.

Before the fairy could open her mouth, Olivia blurted out, "You can understand her!"

"Yeah, " said Melissa, "Can't you?"

"No, all I can hear is bells!" said Olivia, bluntly.

Melissa thought for a minute.  "I can translate what the fairy says and say it to you."  

"Okay," Olivia said.

"I have a name, you know, "said the fairy.

"Oh, sorry.  What is your name?"

"Zoey," said the fairy, "But you can call me Zoe.  Mawaka named me," continued Zoe.  "He found me when I was a very young fairy."

"What's she saying?" asked Olivia impatiently.

"Just a minute!" said Melissa.  "Who is Mawaka?"

"Well," began Zoe, "He is African and isn't magic-"

"Wait!" interrupted Melissa, "You're saying magic is real?"

Zoe sighed.  "My dear, what do you think I am?"  She has a point, thought Melissa.  "Shall I continue?" prodded Zoe.  Melissa nodded.  "He also lives on Gymth Road and-"

"Gymth Road!"

"Yes, my dear, Gymth Road."

"That place is h-haunted," Melissa stuttered.  At this, Zoe did what was quite unexpected.  She did what was perhaps a fairy laugh.  At first it was a little jingle of bells but then it got louder and louder until she got so pale that she had to stop.  Melissa cleared her throat awkwardly.  "Um, may I ask what is so funny about Gymth Road being haunted?"

The fairy smiled.  "That's because Gymth Road isn't haunted.  Haunted is really not the word."

Melissa looked puzzled.  "I don't understand."

"Well, you see 'haunted' is a word you humans use-"

"-No, about Gymth Road not being haunted," Melissa interrupted.

"Can you tell me what she's saying?"  Melissa looked up, startled.  She almost had forgotten about Olivia.  

Melissa looked at Olivia pleadingly.  "I'm sorry, just one more minute, Olivia?"  She nodded, disappointed.  

Zoe piped up to answer her question.  "Tell me dear," she started, "Who told you that Gymth Road was haunted?"

Melissa paused for a moment.  "Um, some kids in my school, I guess.  But-"

"-And have they ever been to Gymth Road?"

"No, because-"

"So how do they know that Gymth Road is haunted?"

"Because they heard stories about-"

"-Stories, you say," interrupted Zoe.  "Tales.  Lies.  do you really think this is true?"

Melissa pondered this.  Zoe did have a point.  "No, I guess I don't."

"You should know you don't."  Melissa's anger rose.  Zoe didn't have the authority to order her around.  But she kept her lips shut.  Zoe's expression turned to concern and then anxiety.  "You must go to Mawaka for even as I am talking we're in extreme danger," she said, looking cautiously around.  "Mawaka will tell you the rest."  

Melissa looked over at Olivia who was waiting impatiently.  Melissa told Olivia briefly what Zoe had said.  Olivia thought for a moment.  "I think you should go visit Mawaka.  These magic things might be in danger."

"Do you mean fairies?" asked Melissa.  

"Maybe," replied Olivia.

Melissa sighed.  This magic thing was so new to her.  "What do I bring, Zoe?"

Zoe's face brightened.  "Nothing.  Mawaka will have everything."

"When do I go?"

Zoe thought for a moment.  "To be safe, how about one o'clock in the morning?"

Melissa looked puzzled.  "Surely I don't need that much time to pick you up and call a taxi to drive us to Gymth Road?" she asked.

Zoe looked horrified.  "A taxi!  Do you know how dangerous that would be?!?"

Melisa looked even more horrified.  "W-w-walk to G-Gymth Road?"

Zoe sighed.  "If you think it's hard to walk to Gymth Road you are not the girl for the mission." 

Melissa shook her head.  "I will pick you up tomorrow at one and we will - walk."  And that's how Melissa Jones' adventure began.

Chapter 2 - The Entrance

Melissa walked briskly to Olivia's house.  It was twelve-thirty sharp and she was not aware of a figure in the distance, following her.  For no little girl would think that a soul would want to be up at this time, and especially not following her.  It was a very cold Saturday morning indeed.  But it was the feeling like hen you get up early in the morning and it's cold, but not as bitter as it could be.  Excitement is in the air and the birds are singing carols as you get ready for a new day.  That feeling.  But only little girls can understand.  Olivia was up too.  She was packing Zoe's stuff up which was kind of hard because Olivia had clumsy, big fingers, very unlike Zoe's.  By the time she was done there was a soft knock on the door.....

To be continued!!