Sunday, August 30, 2009

everyone I know goes away in the end


Have you seen Johnny Cash's take on "Hurt" by Nine Inch Nails? The music video is stunning, sobering, saddening. When watching it recently, I was struck by the way the film depicts Johnny in his very own memento mori still life, especially during verse 2 (from 1:45 to 2:30 on the youtube video link above; embedding has been disabled for that video, so you have to go to youtube to see it).

There is a long and varied art tradition of memento mori, which is Latin for "remember you shall die." This music video borrows imagery from one chapter of the m.m. tradition - that of the Dutch still life painters, who crammed their paintings with decadent tables, loaded down with the richest food of the day. The lobster, being one of the fanciest food of the time, made a lot of appearances, as it does in the music video.

On the surface, these paintings seem to simply celebrate the abundance and luxury life has to offer. However, often a skull or an hour glass would appear along with the food to remind the viewer that, even in the midst of such abundance, time marches on. If left on the table for a few days, the food would begin to decay. The moral of these works was this: Though today you feast, remember that decay, that inevitable and inexorable force, will have its effect, not only on food - but on you. On your body, on your mind, on your life... and as the Borg would say, resistance is futile. You will be assimilated.

The video mimics these Dutch paintings perfectly. Johnny sits at a table laden with lobster, caviar, and fish. Even the lighting and coloring of this scene borrows from the feel of the Dutch still life(s). But as one close-up shot of the fish demonstrates, the point is not to emphasize Johnny's wealth and luxurious lifestyle, but to emphasize that death lurks in the midst of wealth and luxury. The fish lies cold on the table, eyes unseeing, dead. The lobster too is stock still, unmoving, dead. The man sitting near them will one day die, and sooner rather than later at his age. Johnny's imminent death is the theme that the video hammers home as the intensity of pounding piano chords grows and then slowly ebbs away, until Johnny closes the piano cover in silence - and doesn't it feel like the closing of a coffin? All of the experiences he had, the fame he enjoyed, the possessions that fame enabled him to buy - they are fleeting. His "empire of dirt" is crumbling, illustrated by a shot of a "Sorry, we're closed" sign on the door of the Cash Museum.

This portrait of the mortal Johnny results in one very somber video. It makes people cry. It has made me cry. I've been thinking about how it could be used in church, and I've concluded that I would show this music video during the Ash Wednesday service as a way of illustrating the refrain of that holy day: "Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return." Even if your name is Johnny Cash.


p.s. The director Mark Romanek says here,
"This [concept] is completely and utterly alien to what videos are supposed to be. Videos are supposed to be eye candy — hip and cool and all about youth and energy. This one is about someone [moving] toward the twilight of his career, this powerful, legendary figure who is dealing with issues and emotions you're not used to encountering in videos."

Saturday, August 29, 2009

change beneath the surface

When it comes to vocation, I'm looking for the thing in life that grips me with an "I was made to do this" and therefore an "I have to do this," followed by a quick prayer of "please please please let this happen." I want to feel like something is at stake if things don't work out, something I want so much that I'd leave behind life as I know it to make it happen. I felt a flash of that towards an opportunity a few weeks ago, only to have it evaporate as quickly as it had entered my field of vision. Tonight looking over a suggestion a friend sent my way, I felt an inkling of "maybe..." followed by growing enthusiasm as I put together the pieces of "well this fits in with this and that and this and that..." I'm learning that not putting my eggs in one basket doesn't mean never getting excited about possibilities. Looking into possibilities still moves us forward, even if they don't "work out" the way we thought they might. When it comes to discerning vocation, moving ahead feels like the most important thing, because as Bob Bland of TMI lore used to say (and probably still says every summer), "God can't steer a parked car." However, I am reminded tonight that things may be moving forward even contrary to appearances. Sometimes feeling "stuck" in and of itself is a form of moving forward. The water may appear to be still and stagnant, but suddenly movement can surface and reveal itself, and you see how things have been changing beyond your... field of vision.

This reminds me of a little book I'd recommend called Focusing by Eugene Gendlin. I was a bit wary when it was assigned as reading in my Pastoral Care class, b/c it emphasizes getting in touch with the wisdom that is located in your body, which sounded strange and possibly New Age-y to me, but having read the book and tried the practice (and worked with a couple of spiritual directors who use it), I've found it extremely helpful. Gendlin emphasizes that if we have a problem, stopping and focusing on it and identifying it - naming it - moves us forward, even if externally the problem remains the same. We have a sense of release, because we recognize it now for what it is; it doesn't lurk beneath the surface controlling us and our reactions. We experience a "body shift" that frees up all the energy that was spent on that subconscious problem. Now we can think creatively about how to deal with the problem, because we aren't trying to avoid facing it head-on out of fear. (Some of this stuff only makes sense after you've read the book.)

Thursday, August 20, 2009

small steps

Blogs have come to occupy a different space in people's lives since the advent of Facebook. Back when I joined Xanga, it was the major way I kept in touch with friends from college and found out about their lives. Now that FB has taken over, blogs seem a bit more specialized. Since we already have a forum for the more mundane happenings of life, a blog needs a bit more of a niche... more of a reason to exist. I'm not sure that I know yet what the purpose of this one is, but I want to find out, and that will require a little testing of the waters.

As the title of this blog suggests, I am on a journey - in more ways than one. The day I took the picture below (the one of the mossy door) was an amazing day that I spent hiking by myself on the shore of Lake Windermere. In its quiet, unassuming way, that day marked a big step in my life and a beginning of sorts... towards finding my way in God's world, amidst all the choices and options that are out there for me, among all the voices telling me what I might or ought to do with my time on earth. Finding one's true vocation in this world can be a difficult and confusing journey. It's not one straight line from Point A to Point B, despite our best efforts to order it just so. I want to share what I find along the way. I believe that Tolkein is right - the little steps we take each day end up propelling us most of the way in life. God grant us the grace we need to order those small steps rightly.