Tag Archives: Art

Swimming up the Creative Stream

Poor Amazon just doesn’t know what to make of me.

That was the discussion that I had with a colleague tonight. She was talking about a book that she is reading about working with a specific component of the Autism spectrum.  We work together doing applied theatre with an agency that uses theatre to work with students on the spectrum. It’s one of the several things that I do for a living. I like being diversified. The variety is, as they say, the spice of life.

I don’t actually buy much from Amazon these days, but it was my go-to supplier for grad school textbooks, and music for a while. I’ve talked before about how I continue to receive emails for suggested purchases, ranging from theology texts to counseling texts to fiction to web development guides. I wonder sometimes if people like me don’t threaten to make the algorithms explode. We’re spread about everywhere, exploring and practicing all manner of different disciplines and craft, loving the variety and eschewing routine wherever possible. We defy compartmentalization, which is quite abrasive to a culture that is becoming increasingly boxed in concerning roles, expertise, and skill sets.

I used to have issues dealing with this. Even when I came to embrace the wildly different aspects of myself, I still felt as though I was continuously swimming upstream. It’s been quite refreshing to live in an area where a lot of creatives live very similar lives, simultaneously exploring very different pursuits.

Except that I don’t see this as a “creative” thing, at least not as the word is typically defined in regards to people. Or, maybe more to the point, I see it as a creative thing in the sense that everyone is creative. I’m such a passionate advocate of an interdisciplinary mindset because I believe that “cross-pollination” of different disciplines enhances everyone’s lives. We all grow, and we all benefit.

Of course, it’s difficult when you’re encouraged to become overly specialized and to fit yourself into a box. Many things worth having, though, are not easy.

Spend the rest of the week defying your boxes.

Photo Attribution: lovlihood under Creative Commons

A Review of Shazam! Chapter Eleven

The word “family” can mean something a bit different to each of us depending on our childhoods. It’s always held a positive meaning for me, because I am blessed enough to have a strong and cohesive family unit, even larger now that Karen and I are married. That said, it still gets messy sometimes, because we’re all…remember this word…mortals. Still, family can be a great source of strength to conquer the obstacles, challenges, and even the evils that we face at moments in our lives.

Family has been a sort of through-line to DC Comics’ New 52 re-boot of Captain Marvel, now going under the name Shazam, which has been appearing as an additional story line in the back of Justice League. I’ve written before how DC is winning me over with their story, and how they’re capturing the struggle with the nature of a hero that any human would face, and certainly a child…a struggle that is perfectly portrayed in the character of Shazam.

Chapter eleven of the story (and I’m a bit late in reviewing this, as it’s almost two weeks old now), picks up with young Billy Batson running underground in his attempt to find the wizard, where he intends to plead for the removal of his powers. Billy is convinced that he is no hero and that his powers were granted to him by mistake, and is terrified of transforming himself back into Shazam, because then the evil Black Adam will turn his terror of the city above on his intended target…young Billy.

There is wonderful moment when some of his young brothers and sisters from his adopted family…friends who are standing by him even though he was quite mean to them initially…doubt Billy’s mental well being when he commands an abandoned subway to take them to the wizard. That is, all save one of the youngest members of the family, who believes in magic. Then, when Billy encounters the enchanted Francesca, the mystical face in the mirror, on an iPad screen, a voice that none of his young companions can hear, another member of the group insists that everyone believe that “Billy can see and hear things we don’t.”

“Magic things!” replies the youngest, and wonders aloud why they can’t see and hear these things, as well. Francesca asks Billy to communicate to his young sister that this is because she has not established a connection to magic, a cryptic statement at first. This, though becomes quite important…and emphasizes the theme of family…when Mary, the oldest sister, hears Francesca speak a single word: “Family.” Has a connection to magic through the bond of family began for Mary (long-time comic book readers know where this is going, I think)?

Francesca’s encouragement to Billy is inspiring, though it falls initially on ears finding it suspect. It is in overcoming the fears and challenges that we face, she insists, that we become “more than mortals.” There’s an odd bit of philosophical dualism injected into the story here, as Francesca explains to Billy that, his bond to the magic lightning that has made him Shazam being irreversible, he and Black Adam, the only other champion now bound with the lightning, are “forever connected.”  Writer Geoff Johns fleshes this out a bit later though, as Francesca begins to explain…

(Permit me to pause and give you fair warning that everything that follows will contain massive spoilers, in case you want to read this issue and haven’t already)

…Black Adam’s origin, one of tragic isolation and loss of childhood innocence paralleling, and indeed exceeding, Billy’s own. Artist Gary Frank does a masterful job of revealing Billy’s shock and horror at this connection, as he realizes how alike he and his evil rival terrorizing the streets above them are.

This realization changes Billy in a moment, as he embraces the fact that he suddenly views Black Adam as someone who can be saved, and himself as the person who can reason with Black Adam. In this pivotal moment for his character, Billy rushes out of the subway to confront Black Adam, not with the power of Shazam, but with the appeal of one orphan to another…the appeal for Black Adam to choose good as Billy has.

The ending…well, I won’t spoil everything here, but this issue is a great portrayal of the nature of a hero as Billy chooses to overcome his fear and place himself at risk in order to not even necessarily defeat, but to save his adversary. Billy chooses the ultimate good, the good that will make Shazam a centerpiece of the DC universe, and a good to which all of us reading can aspire. In Francesca’s words, this is the good that makes us “more than mortal.” Again, this is why superhero mythology carries such huge philosophical and theological …even spiritual…importance.

I can’t wait for next month’s issue…more to come!

Libraries Before Profit

I remember the first time I received a check in the mail for writing. It was a beautiful thing. I still hold no delusions that its easy in any way to make a living as a writer, but we don’t really do it to make a living in any case, and the payoffs of hearing someone discuss your work or seeing your words in print for the world far outweigh any monetary benefit.

Still, being paid is nice. Particularly nice when you’re being paid to do what you love.

All that to say, I’m a huge fan of artists being compensated for their creation. It’s something that happens far too infrequently, and at far too small a scale.  I needed to say this up front, because its important to preface what I’m about to say with those thoughts.

What is it that I’m going to say? I will always believe that the public should be able to access our culture’s literature for free, and I will always believe that viewing and reading and listening to our cultural heritage is a right, not a privilege. For exactly those reasons, I’m a big supporter of the local library. I believe it to be a very worthy use of tax money, because it contributes to an educated and culturally aware country. These are things from which everyone benefits.

So, when I read opinions about how libraries should essentially be cast aside with technological evolutions, and that only people who want to pay for books should be able to read them, I become very frustrated with what I can only perceive as an elitist attitude. If you have the money to purchase a book that you love, then do so. Support the author. Whatever you do, don’t pirate the book, because that’s a crime and you deserve to be arrested if you do.

However, there are always books…important books…that you want to read and don’t quite have the money to spare, and there are always those who are truly passionate about books and who just cannot afford them in any case. That’s why we all buy these books for the common good, to be read by our local communities. That’s what libraries do.

To insinuate that such a critical public good be done away with in the name of profit for the artist is beyond reprehensible. The artist…if (s)he is truly an artist…isn’t creating for profit, in any case. Their work is there for the sake of everyone, and for everyone. So let everyone read it, or hear it, or see it.

And let’s continue to do everything we can to keep this art available.

The Value of Inspiration

I’ve never claimed to be a visual artist.

I tried, mind you, when I was young, just as all children try their hands at drawing and painting. At the end of the day, though, while my drawing was a bit of an obsession for a while, my true sensitivity turned out to be auditory in nature, not visual. I think that’s why I’m a writer, because I hear the sounds of the words on the page the way they would be spoken. I’m just visual enough to do layout designs, which I’ve done in print and on the web, and I’ve done some scenic design work for the stage. I’ve done some lighting design, as well, but to draw or paint something beautiful on a blank canvas…that’s just not my gift.

Still, I’ve been friends with a great many visual artists over the course of my life, and I know how to appreciate the visual mediums. I’ve developed a taste for “what I like,” and Karen and I have occasional fun matching our disparate tastes in visual  aesthetics into a cohesive interior design. I find visual art inspiring for my writing. I’ve found some visual work on Tumblr that had a great impact on the character development of a major character in my work-in-progress.

I was thinking about this along the lines of when I see steampunk art or cosplays. I’ve never read anything in the genre, but seeing the art makes me want to read the genre. In fact, seeing the art makes me want to try my hand at writing it, as well, at some point in the future.

All that to say, it’s wonderful to see how one medium informs another. Our inspiration has to come not only from within our own medium or even our own genre, but from wildly different ones, as well.

Go looking. Stay inspired.

So-Called “Faithless” Literature, and a Gospel According to Martha Jones

There’s been some debate lately about whether or not faith still thrives in fiction. That is, there is some speculation that the existential questions traditionally allocated to the realm of faith, such as those of purpose and ethics, and which drove literature in both veiled and not-so-veiled ways for some time, is now addressed or ignored in a purely secular art form.

Paul Elie recently considered in the New York Times whether or not fiction has lost its faith. Gregory Wolfe, editor of Image Journal, responded in the Wall Street Journal, insisting that it has not. Me? I’m strongly in Wolfe’s camp, and not only in literature, but in the arts in general.

I was struck by how strongly different genres of different mediums explore concepts of religious faith when I was around for a random re-watch of an old episode of Dr. Who. The episodes in question, which earned a full re-viewing by me later (what did we do before Netflix?), were the final two episodes of season 3 of the new series, in which the Doctor (then partnered with Martha Jones), finds himself in a desperate struggle to defeat the only other surviving Time Lord, the Master, as he has taken over the Earth and reduced the Doctor to a helpless invalid.

During a year of the Master’s reign of terror (which passes between the two episodes), Martha Jones escapes and wanders the entire planet earth. There, she essentially preaches to the population (nearly all of whom have been enslaved by the Master, and frequently tortured and killed), telling them of the heroic Doctor who is their only hope against the Master…the Doctor who has saved their lives over and again without their even knowing it, and who is the one person capable of defeating the Master’s evil.

The Master fears Martha enough to go after her personally…he arrives on the street outside where she is taking refuge, as one of the helpless slaves states words to the effect of “he never walks among us.” The Master belittles Martha’s faith and hope as being unable to stand against his weapons. He mocks Martha’s efforts just before he is to publicly execute her, as he learns that her plan was to have everyone on the earth, at the same critical moment, think of this mythical figure whom they had never met known as the Doctor.

Because, in his year of captivity, the Doctor has been able to telepathically connect himself with the same mental network that the Master used to persuade the people of earth to place him in his dictatorship. Thus, the Doctor receives massive power from this psionic energy being funneled into him. Essentially, the Doctor’s power comes through the prayer of the believers from Martha’s “gospel,” and he uses his power unexpectedly to, in the moment at which he has the Master defeated, utter the words which he has tried to say yet which the Master has avoided throughout the episodes: “I forgive you.” The Doctor, displaying the nature of a hero, sees the Master has someone worth saving, despite his evil deeds.

And, in the end, the Master’s refusal to be with the forgiving Doctor results in his final demise.

Season 3 of Doctor Who ended with the Doctor written overtly as a Christological metaphor. Difficult for me swallow, then, that art has lost its faith. Every medium and genre is scattered with artists who explore questions of faith and belief from various perspectives, and these two episodes of a science-fiction program are but one example to stand alongside many others.

Perhaps the issue is any delineation at all between “sacred” and “secular,” our insistence on placing artistic expression in one camp or another. I don’t believe that there is any such separation, and I am immediately suspect of any genre distinction that attempts to enforce it.

Faith is not gone from the arts. It is as powerfully stated as ever, if, as Wolfe points out, stated in a different manner, a manner consistent with our cultural evolution. That’s because the existential questions that haunted humanity a hundred years ago haunt us still, and require our attention no less than they did then. That is an integral part of the human condition, and it is the questions of that condition that the arts continue to explore.

Photo Attribution: ewen and donabel under Creative Commons