embodied: its what's on the inside that counts

art
I had an experience last night that gave me such great joy and a childlike fascination as I reflected over it today. I can honestly say that today was made sufficiently more enjoyable by last night's adventures.

Yesterday, after I spent a good portion of the day on the couch reading for class and sampling all our teas, I decided that I would have a little adventure. I heard that there was an exhibit at the OMSI (Oregon Museum of Science and Industry) that was not to be missed. I phoned one of my new Portland friends and we made a midnight visit to see Bodyworlds 3. The exhibit contains actual deceased people's bodies that have been preserved using a process called Plastination. It was obvious that a group of people with significant artistic vision designed the exhibit. Each body was placed in such wonderously beautiful poses, depicting the wonderous strength and originality of the human system. The exhibit was open 24-hrs/day this weekend, so people can come see an exhibit featuring dead people into the wee hours of the night! ...creepy! The intricacy with which the human body has been designed and constructed was stunning. Viewing these muscular forms, I realized how seldom I think about what goes on under the skin. These people were not textbook photos, they were actual living beings at one time, now posing in front of me so artfully, some doing actions that I do, their muscles and tissues in full view. I cannot believe how well we are made. It all fits together so tightly in this compact package of our bodies. The bones provide structure, the tissue cushiones the bones, the muscles provide strength for movement, the nervous system gives the commands...It works so well.

I drove to worship this morning with visions of these bodies in my head. And it hit me all of a sudden - this joy and beauty - that the Creator of the earth and the stars, the heavens and the skies, He took on this form. I thought about all the muscles and the organs. God. God who fashioned humans from his very Words saw our need and took on the form of a human to redeem us. God who created our bodies to feel pain and pleasure, He left the comfort of the heavens to embody himself in the person of Jesus. I thought about the embryos in the exhibit, and it stuns me that this wonderful God took the form of a peanut-sized embryo in the belly of a virgin. He put on flesh and dwelt on the earth in bodily form. I cannot fathom it. The human body seems to me infinitely more beautiful in light of this reality.

This morning's sermon was about Genesis 1. God took seven days to create the earth. He took 9 months to come out of the womb. He went through infancy, childhood, adolescence, and adulthood. God was present in the process. God was a part of the process.

I feel both soothed and stoked to think of God undergoing the human processes of birth and life. He took his time. He felt it all. He identifies. He sees us. He loves us. He has redeemed us through the body he created and embodied and raised from the dead. Amazing.

We truly are fearfully and wonderfully made.

the image and the visionary

Yesterday I had one of the most intellectually stimulating days I have had in a long time. It was a rich blessing!

I spent the afternoon with my friend, Alina, visiting the Trammell & Margaret Crow Asian Art Collection. To my delight, admission was free and the collection was beautiful. The true reason for our visit, however, was to see their current exhibit. A friend of mine who is a "starving artist" here in Dallas told me that it was "mind blowing!" and that I should make a point to view the exhibit.

He was right. It was unlike anything I had ever seen. The exhibit was by a Korean artist, U-Ram Choe, and it was called "New Media from Seoul." The exhibit was a robotic sculpture collection that depicted fictional creatures that the artist claimed dwell in today's urban cities. His vision was very unique and I found it a little futuristic for my taste, but I really admired his originality and the incredible expertise with which he utilized art, engineering, anthropology, biology, philosophy, and communication. The creatures had a curious and serene nature to them and it was soothing to be in their presence.

We happened upon a lecture led by the museum's director and I was given a quote to think about in the context of the exhibit:
"Art is a technique of communication. The image is the most complete technique of all communication." - Claes Oldenburg

Being in the midst of this artistic fantasy, I began to chew on the role the image plays in communication, especially in art. A lot of art is non-verbal (sculpture, painting...) and a lot of art is strictly verbal (poetry, prose...). Oftentimes I have a vision of something I want to communicate to someone else. I will need them to "get on board" with what I'm invisioning. It usually happens that my wordy explanations of my vision only get us so far. It is when they see it with their own eyes, when they can see, touch, taste, smell, and hear the sounds of the vision that they truly have that "aha!" moment and can say "This is great. Now I know what you were trying to show me!" The director explained that U-Ram Choe's exhibit would have been confusing were the verbal explanations not there. I was thinking of the artist, having a vision, writing about these creatures, and feeling alone in his vision until the image was materially created. Then, once others had the image with its movement and harmony, they would then begin to dip their toe into the pond of his fantasy. The image is the completion of the communication. On its own, it may be lacking. But I have realized lately that a communicator without an image to help the audience can be a lonely visionary.

St. Augustine said, "I can point the finger, but I cannot supply the vision." I often feel like I am pointing my finger for an audience, but I am unable to supply the vision. The audience must catch the vision on their own. And often the person pointing the finger can feel very estranged from the audience because she cannot supply the vision. She can only do so much.