From an art blog I'been reedin'
[That's me in the yellow shorts filmin' away]
http://viaaffirmativa.com/2007/07/09/the-value-of-the-work-of-our-hands…/
"theber Says: September 7th, 2007 at 1:43 pm
It looks like this conversation has largely run its course, but I’m going to comment anyway because I came here today with this very question in mind. I well remember the “souvenier video” from my first week as a camp counselor many years ago. All week I had fought real bugs and imagined bears, herded unruly campers, answered unending questions, looked for lost shoes, and helped scared kids go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. I couldn’t wait for them to go home so I could have a weekend off. Then I saw the video: our week, artfully set to music by a young, underpaid videographer. I was there for all that stuff, but I’d never seen it like that: friendships around the campfire glowed with tenderness, zip-lining over the icy lake was high drama, and winning at capture the flag became a soaring triumph. I still needed a meal and a good night’s sleep, but suddenly I wanted to come back next week and do it all again. I think good art is like that. It shows me more truth about my daily life than I can see while I’m living it. It shows me the glory of the eternal things I take for granted, and the weight of my daily decisions. The life of a saint in a fallen world, not to mention the redemption story itself, is ultimately a grueling perseverence to an exhiliarating come-from-behind win. A finished product that exactly fulfills its purpose - be it Handel’s Messiah or that “well-made pair of jeans” - is an object lesson my heart can read that tells me the story isn’t over, and the end will be grand. Art helps me persevere in faith."
It looks like this conversation has largely run its course, but I’m going to comment anyway because I came here today with this very question in mind. I well remember the “souvenier video” from my first week as a camp counselor many years ago. All week I had fought real bugs and imagined bears, herded unruly campers, answered unending questions, looked for lost shoes, and helped scared kids go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. I couldn’t wait for them to go home so I could have a weekend off. Then I saw the video: our week, artfully set to music by a young, underpaid videographer. I was there for all that stuff, but I’d never seen it like that: friendships around the campfire glowed with tenderness, zip-lining over the icy lake was high drama, and winning at capture the flag became a soaring triumph. I still needed a meal and a good night’s sleep, but suddenly I wanted to come back next week and do it all again. I think good art is like that. It shows me more truth about my daily life than I can see while I’m living it. It shows me the glory of the eternal things I take for granted, and the weight of my daily decisions. The life of a saint in a fallen world, not to mention the redemption story itself, is ultimately a grueling perseverence to an exhiliarating come-from-behind win. A finished product that exactly fulfills its purpose - be it Handel’s Messiah or that “well-made pair of jeans” - is an object lesson my heart can read that tells me the story isn’t over, and the end will be grand. Art helps me persevere in faith."
Nice to be a part (as camp videographer this past summer and likely the next ) of something that affects lives both inside and outside the camp.
I'm seriously contemplating heading back out there this summer. With the possibility of resigning my position at the school to make more time for creative work.
This Christmas season has been so far exceptional for pottery sales. The new line is in it's second year and has really come into it's own.
I'm so tired and two more days until the holiday.
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