March 6th, 2010 by Marlene

Cole Porter (great musical composer of the 20th century) was left crippled by a horseback riding accident, endured many surgeries, and finally lost one of his legs. But it is said that on one occasion when he was told that his Broadway show was a hit, he leaped out of his wheelchair and ran up a flight of stairs to share the good news.

My father told me of a barbor whose shop caught on fire. In a moment of panic, he jerked the massive barbors chair out of the floor with his bare hands and ran from the shop carring it.

I have heard of at least one saint who sang hymns in a state of spiritual ecstasy while being burned at the stake. Then there is Saint Theresa of Avila who was reported to have risen from the floor in spiritual ecstasy on several occasions. There is a statue of her doing so in the Vatican.

All the above sounds fantastic, but does it happen in daily life, even now, to ordinary people in varying degrees? I think it does. We see it in the power of suggestion. I have heard of hypnotists telling their patients they will hate liquor or cigarettes, etc. from the moment they come out of their hypnotic trance (and there are evidently cases in which it was so). I have heard of intense, totally focused brain waves of someone moving a little electric train ever so slightly.

Biofeedback is a common term in modern life. However, the Bible, thousands of years ago, sometimes refers to belief as necessary for healing. First, let me explain, however, that I do not question the will and purposes of a sovereign God. Some are healed and some are not according to His will and purposes (regardless of what they, themselves, do).  Nor is this some “health and wealth doctrine” or some trendy New Age thing.

Still, Proverbs tells us that “As a  man thinketh, so is he“, and that “A merry heart doeth good like a medicine“, and that “The spirit of a man upholds his infirmities“, and that “We can do all things through Christ who strengthens us.” That’s a lot of good stuff to gnaw on. The Bible also tells us that God “makes streams in the desert“.

However, I believe that we must jerk our personal power cords out of those tiny, sputtering, stinking, gaseous generators we keep in the garrage and (metaphorically speaking) plug directly into Con Edison. 

In the Bible, Abigail prophesied to David (later King David) that he was “caught up in the bundle of life” with God. This was while he was still running from King Saul (who was trying to kill him), flying by the seat of his pants in the wilderness with a wild and crazy crowd of followers, and playing both ends against the middle with a pagan king.

David would soon marry Abigail (good choice!) and the rest is history. David would have a vision (which would come to pass) of Jerusalem as the capital of Israel (which he would help make a great nation) and of God’s temple there.  In his mind was victory and in his line would be the Lord Jesus Christ.

David had been anointed by Samuel as king (under God’s direction) many years before he actually became king. It seems to me that, by God’s grace, David knew who he was where he was(even while still in the wilderness). I think this is the key to wilderness victory. Kingship was greater in his spirit than the wilderness and Saul’s threats that immediately surounded him.

Cole Porter evidently forgot for a moment that he was disabled and ran up the stairs. The barbor forgot for a moment that nobody can lift a barbor chair bolted into the floor. Adrenaline, doubtlessly, played a part. But I don’t think it can take all the credit.

I think that sometimes God shows us what is actually possible rather than what only appears possible. God created physics, chemistry, mathematics and all the other sciences we put so much store in. But He can override them at will (and sometimes enable us to do the same). - Think about it and laugh even in this present darkness!

February 27th, 2010 by Marlene

A few months ago I found my self screaming and cursing like the kid in “The Exorcist.” If  my sister had not calmed me, I suspect I would have gone on to levitate, projectile vomit green slime, and spin my head around. – Why? – The computer!

I had done a portrait of this lady’s dog to help raise money for an animal welfare group and was trying e-mail her a picture of it for approval before I sent her the real painting. I tried repeatedly to do the Attachment and failed. I called my sister who tried to instruct me and that failed. It was harder doing this e-mail than doing the portrait itself. I broke.

I am an artist. Ever since people saw the film, ”Lust For Life“, in which great Impressionist artist, Vincent Van Gough, cuts off his ear in a moment of pain and madness, I’m afraid that all artists are suspect of such aberrant behavior. After my screaming episode, I wonder if my sister enters my home with trepidation, cautiously watching where she steps.

I know of artists who have adapted to technology and have used it mightily. But I suspect this is rare in persons of that more emotional, reflective, and introspective bent, such as myself. In school, I was good in art, literature, philosophy, etc. I was relatively poor in higher mathematics and science. Is this somehow connected to the technological difficulties I have? I know others who have noticed a similar relationship in themselves, so it’s possible.

I am obsessed with redeeming the time to the best advantage. I get up early and (after breakfast) I get all the housework, grooming, hygiene, exercise, etc. out of the way as fast as I can so I can get into the studio to do my art work or to the computer to write my novels and blogs. If I have some computer glitch, I actually feel threatened as though some evil force is trying whittle me down to a quivering mass of nerves and break my spirit. – WELL I WON’T PERMIT IT !

About 20 years ago, I paid somebody to re-type all my novels (a massive undertaking) into my first computer (an XT) so I could edit them on myown (rather than ever again paying a typist). I consider myself a good writer and a lousy typist so this made sense. I figured that it was worth this one last expense like that “war to end all wars”.

I finished the exhaustive editorial work with a sigh of relief and was ready to submit my materpieces to agents and publishers. - Then the catastrophe happened! – I was not able to access a single one of them for print out.

It appears that I had made the files of each of them too large for the meager memory of the (now ancient) XT. I paid already agreed to pay $300 to an (ostensible ) expert to  remedy this, not realizing that he would fail also. Now my money was gone so I could not yet afford a new computer. – Fortunately, I had save the novels on floppies, so all was not lost.

When I finally did get a computer with more memory, I copied the novels into it from the floppies. Still, it had been a while since I edited them, so I decided to give them one last polish. However, now the files were so tiny that each novel required up to 20 or more files.

It was confusing, tedious, and a tad frightening connecting them all in the correct sequence so that I could more easily access them for edit and print-out.  But was I connecting them correctly? If not, I’d have a worse problem.

My mind began getting fatigued and my concentration blurry. Running out of the 26 letter alphabet for my long list of files for each novel, I had gone to numbers following the abbreviations for each file title. For example, there was “Biological Time Clock” (BTC) plus the letter or number.

But did “BTC d” come before “BTC 4″ or (the other way around)? About half-way through, I forgot where I was in the lists (like a kind of black-out).  Under the prolonged tension, I could hardly recall my own stories, so reading the end of one file and the start of the next did not always help.

In such a state, it is easy to press the wrong key and delete something. That had happened before on several occasions while I was editing them, erasing entire chapters I had labored over. That fear gripped me. Finally it was done with each novel completed in one file. Still, I kept the original files just to be sure. I think I still have them somewhere.

By the time we learn all there is to know about the current technology (if ever) there will, of course, be newer technologies to learn. Remember all those large Floppies that became smaller Floppies, then CD’s, then Flash Drives, etc. ? Will that mean it is all for nothing? Maybe, but I don’t think so.

Hard as all this is for some of us, it probably is giving our brains a good workout. In years to come, we may come to realize that such adaptations are helping to hold-off Alzheimer’s and other dementia the way aerobics do cardiovascular problems.

I recall my Dad telling me about difficulties people encountered with the radio chrystal sets of the early 1920’s when he was a kid. But they didn’t give up and look where that led.

February 20th, 2010 by Marlene

Decades ago I saw the film, “Sweet November”, in which Sandy Dennis refers to her boyfriend, Anthony Newley, as “Hurry-up Ding,  Ding” . He has amassed a fortune in business while starving his emotional and creative life. He is a human automaton in a great rush to get nowhere of real value.

She is detemined to “re-humanize” him. Unknown to him, she has only a short time to live, but  has profoundly grasped the richness of life and wants to share it with him. Under her influence, he begins dressing casually and creatively (1960’s style) and has returned to writing poetry. Also, he has learned to love her in a way he was incapable of loving before. – Only now does he realize she is dying while he has become totally alive.

The message is profound and timeless, but requires balance to work in real life. Both characters were partially right. He needed hard work and self-discipline to get ahead in his career (which, in the real world, is not such a bad thing). He just went too far by eliminating everything else.

She was right in finding rich fulfillment in every facet of life and caring deeply about his wellbeing. But we never see her out in the real world making a living. Being perceptive, reflective, and intense enough to be a fine poet is a treasure. However, those qualities (as a constant) are okay in real life only if one does not require a day job for survival of have other responsibilities.

As usual in movie scripts, we see the CLOSE UP on romantic ecstasy before the FADE TO BLACK at the end . I have wondered how many people went out and quit their jobs and other obligations  in a swirl of passion after seeing that film, only to become disillusioned and destitute. I did not do so, but it was a temptation. It was a sixties thing being that way. I will always look back on it fondly, but I am also still here (as some are not who gave in to the magic moment).

Where is the fine balance line between saying YES to duty and YES to life? It’s taken me years to separate the two at some points and amalgamate them at others. This balance is especially important for the artist and writer (both of which I am).  I want to paint, sculpt, and write with power and depth. But I do not want to discount the obligation of self-preservation, even for arts sake.

The most heart-felt scenes in film seem to “just happen” before us (as though we looked through a key hole). However, they require the scrupulous preparation of cold logic, hard work, grace under fire. The same is so with good painting. I have a  vision of the general look and emotion a painting is to convey. However, I must detach myself enough from the dream state aspect of that vision to construct it in infinite detail in a particular space with particular objects using a particular medium. How is each area lighted? What is the focus and how do I guide the eye through the rest to get to it in the best way?

Objects must be gathered to go in it (or pictures thereof). I also rely on memory and creativity in drawing them, but accuracy is important.  If I am raring to go on the painting, itself, this requires self-control! 

An fine and established painter I once studied advises having several paintings going at one time. On a day when one is in a mood to do detail, he might work on the details of one of them, then switch to a looser and more swashbuckling approach on another one. This requires, of course, an amagamation of creativity and a rational plan.

For example, one may work on a painting with an impasto technique. Mixing sand or other debris with the paint (or the underpainting medium) takes time and is more like cooking than art. Getting this done before getting into the painting, itself, frees one to just slather on the paint in ecstasy (eliminating all that tedious start stop).

If one is more detached on a particular day, it may be best to concentrate on structure of the painting such as perspective, areas requiring mechanical drafting, etc. One may be mixing  several types of mediums or stretching  canvas if less emotionally charged. - ”Scorn not the day of small beginnings.”

It is all a balance of self-control, self-denial, self-expression, self-appraisal, and occasionally self-applause (within reason). I get the basic hygiene, grooming, eating, food preparation, tidying the house, etc. out of the way before allowing myself into the studio so that my creative work will not be interrupted. In my freezer are delicious and nutricious foods in individual portions.

I am both the sensitized “poet” and the “Hurry-up Ding, Ding” guy. It all works best with God’s help, of course. He is the ultimate artist, engineer, scientist, mathematician. We are created in His image. Think about it.