Cacey's birthday was July 21st which we celebrated. However, in honor of her special day I thought I would post one of her notes more commonly known as her "musings".
I cannot sleep. I am thinking. I am noticing a trend. A common thread through some persons personality and charisma of what defines them as an “artist.” An artist is a selfless person. It sees others and other things that others do not see or notice. They are a detailed person and yet see the entire canvas finished and completed before it is started and begun.
Their well is deep and water plenty. Their cup is never full long. It is emptied and refilled over and again. Layered changes and old ways. Blank untouched spaces and filled palettes. Their water becomes colored and streaked by life, experiences, thoughts and wants so they are constantly purifying and thinning. Stripping and basing. Eliminating and replenishing. The water in their cup is never still. It is constantly quivering from hands that dip and bring the water up to their lips to sate their drained thirst that can only be sustained from these artists defined strength that are never dry.
An artist has a different perspective from those around them. Is this not what defines a Christian? Or should define a Christian? Christ is the Master Artist. He already knows the outcome, the canvas, and yet He is still painting it right now. Painting the deepness and lightness. He is everywhere. His technique is gentle and light. Very few artists actually live among you.
Artists have learned, through life, not to be become conditioned to the circumstances around them. But they are fully aware of their surroundings. They are a sojourner. A pilgrim. Their home is not here. Their land elsewhere.
There are those artists who are always in the clouds above the clouds even. The sky, the stars, the moon, the sunrise, the secret inner chamber of an opening flower. The Holy of Holies. They are close to beauty. Near to God. Their heart is pure. Their vital body is down here with you, caught in time, but their spirit and soul is a clear crystal star up there. They see and love in terms of feelings that questions rationality in whether they are, or not, capable of feeling such volumes and vastness of love and joy in the world around them. They express this in gentle, giving, works of art that beautify the world but does not really change the circumstances in front of them but they cannot see it, even if you do, because they see what you cannot.
These artists are relaxing to be around. Warm and real. They are on the surface. They hide nothing. They give freely. They are never to busy to be kind. Beauty is everywhere for them even in the grotesque. They are consummated. Full and overflowing. They never reach the goals that people set for them. But, in their hearts they are content and they reach the goal many times in one day and to God this is all He ask from these artists. They look forward to the day can really be up there with Him and see beauty as it was meant to be and He looks forward to the day when He can walk more closely with them in His realm as it is meant to be.
There are those artists who soar like an eagle but nest like a falcon. They feel deep, they change, they waver, they wonder, they ask, they despair. They deviate between staying down with the cynical and soaring up to the clouds and drugging themselves into a false idea of reality and beauty that does not exist for them because they see all so very clearly and yet at the same time they see the monstrous right next to it. Where there is good for sure evil is not far away.
In their traumatization they reveal the scarred up protrusions around them and then paint the most exquisite works of humanity that one cannot feel that God touched their painting with His brush to help elevate the pain that they were feeling while trying to express their red coaled alive vision as they see it before it hits the bucket of ice cold reality in need and want. These artists love deep. They are true. They are sincere. They dream. They give sparingly but willingly and never turn anyone away. They know what it means to be a stranger in a strange land.
God loves these artists. They know all to well their failures and inability to achieve what the epitome of beauty is. But, this is all God ask of them. They know and He knows. He knows their trying. They try and because of that when they come to Him He says to them, “Well done, good and faithful servant; thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things: enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.” They have earned their crown of gold and He clothes them in pureness of form that they could never achieve on their own because they would never believe it until He did it.
There are those artists who are on ground level. They see what is wrong. They see what is right. They see how to go about salving and balming the wounds of this world. Even if they do not see it right away they will find out. They have a face that I cannot describe here but only see and know about. They have shoulders wide enough, a back of boned strength, arms bendable and long enough, wrists, ankles, elbows and knees flexible enough, hands large enough, hips immovable enough, thighs and calves strong enough and feet flat and firm enough that one knows these artists can handle more than the average person and they will not fall.
They are Hercules. They are the powerful controlled silverback gorilla in the jungle, the mighty commanding and heavy maned lion of the endless plains, the faithful loving swan of the calm lake, the protective and all seeing free eagle in the sky. Because of their knowledge, their strength and their abilities much is required of them. The standard is higher. The standard is high for everyone. No one gets away from a standard that is universal. But these artists, they have come to the ground from the top they must strive harder, go farther, give more, expect less of those around them and ask more than expected. They belong - pride - but sometimes they wander nomadically.
They know and have experienced much more than average and have moved beyond their pain. Because of this God requires these artists to shepherd and help those who are still descending to ascend again when the time comes. These are the ones that nothing fazes them. They understand what love is. They understand that the line between love and hate is so very small in this world. Their well is always full of vital life giving water and ready, with a dipper, for anyone who needs revivement. They receive their strength not of themselves but of God. They understand that it is not numbers and statistics but calculations, thought and strategy. Action, work and sweat. They see the long term goal. The consequences and impacts. They get results.
These artists mere presence is comforting and assuring. That the world had more men like this. These artists have come from above and stay under to help others. Between them and God is a mutual, close, sharp, loving relationship. They know Him and He knows them. They know what is at the end of this path-light called life and God has more reward for them then they can know. He cannot wait for them to come home and be with Him when the time is ready. But, until then, they have a duty to perform and they know it well.
Artists try very hard, all of them, to varnish and highlight to others the beauty as they see it without marring your perception of things around you whether good or bad. They, most of the time, do not understand they are the stepping stones. The living stones. The stones that support others weaker than them. Just as Christ is the Chief Corner stone that supports them they are the base stones that help the less strong around them. It seems almost that they have difficulty letting go. Letting go of their perceptions and fears and just allowing God's encouragement to open them up so He can direct them as needed that others might get such encouragement from them.
God uses you, an artist, if you allow Him to use you. Sometimes it is a step from oneself to what God requires of you. A step that is hopefully just one step of faith not hundred to the top of the stairs or the other side of the bridge. But life is a series of bridges and stairs, storms and thirst, questions and resolutions. A retake of steps. Backwards and forward. Onward. Narrow and defined. Steps of faith. Faith of things hoped for but not seen. If you cannot see the top that is normal. I do not believe anyone can. Maybe. I don't know sometimes I think I can see the top or the other side. I know I am sounding confusing now. I cannot remember what I was thinking earlier. It was something very specific. Maybe I will remember and add it later.
Today: I never remembered.
What Is An Artist?© Cacey Ariana
No comments:
Post a Comment