Sacred Refuge— Now at West End Gallery
People are so very secretive. Sometimes it is said, “Those characters and that novel are purely fantastic — nobody in real life is like that.” But people in real life are very, very odd, as soon as one gets to know them at all well, and they conceal this fact because they are frightened of appearing eccentric or shocking… What are other people really like? What goes on inside their minds? What goes on inside their houses?
— Iris Murdoch, Existentialists and Mystics: Writings on Philosophy and Literature (1999)
How well can you really know anyone? We live in a world where we know one another by brief brushes in time, single points of contact in the way two cars sometimes graze each other in a parking lot, each leaving a bit of paint on the other. But that tiny slash of paint only reveals a tiny portion of who and what either of us truly is.
Oh, there are people who we know somewhat better, family and close friends. Maybe we even believe we know them completely. Our car is covered with dents and paint from the innumerable times we have interacted.
But even then, do we know all there is to anyone?
Does everyone possess a secret spot inside themselves that seldom, if ever, reveals itself to others, even those who claim to know us completely?
I tend to think so. Even if we don’t recognize them in ourselves, I believe we all have private spaces– maybe even sacred refuges like the one portrayed in the painting at the top– where we exist in our totality. We obscure much of ourselves in order to create an acceptable surface appearance in order to fit in and get along with others. It’s something we learn as children, not wanting to be singled out for any reason, especially the ridicule that comes for being different or odd.
Is our willingness to take on this surface appearance right or wrong? Healthy or unhealthy? Neither?
Maybe it is the glue that holds society together? Then again, maybe it is the thing that pulls us apart?
So many questions and so many I don’t knows.
I do know that I learned to blend in and get along at an early age. I didn’t know if I was odd or different in any way from my schoolmates, but I didn’t want to take the risk of exposing it if I was. So you become who people come to think you are. It is sometimes almost like an alien existence, watching what was going on in this world as if I were a disguised spy sent from my sacred refuge.
Most everything became a detached observation. That’s a desirable quality for any wannabe artist or writer. You store these files of observations and commentary in your mind– your sacred refuge– until one day you decide to reveal how you see things, how your world looks from your distant point. It’s a risk since it entails a certain degree of transparency, an uneasy uncovering of some of your secret self that has been hidden away for much of your life.
It all becomes fodder for your art.
But even then, do you show everything– every secret thought or wish, every shameful instance, every triumph or loss, every embarrassment or humiliation suffered at the hands of others or administered to others by your hand?
Probably not.
That would literally be a bridge too far in that it would be too much like erecting a bridge to your sacred refuge which everyone could cross at any time. The sacred aspect would be forever lost.
With my art and words, I have allowed a few boats to land for a brief moment on my sacred refuge. Probably more than most others would feel comfortable in allowing on their own refuges. That might be a mistake on my part, but I don’t think I could function as an artist without allowing others to visit my private world. But even then, there are things — secrets both good and bad and unfulfilled desires– that will most likely remain forever hidden.
I say most likely because who knows what will happen in the future, even on a small sacred refuge such as mine?
I want you to realize that this is off the cuff this morning. For better or worse, it is not at all what I thought it was going to be when I started writing. I am not going to reread it because if I do, I might not be willing to hit the publish button. So, take it for what it is, please.
Here’s a song from Nickel Creek that I haven’t heard in a long time. Not sure if it fits but who cares? This is When You Come Back Down.
FYI- Sacred Refuge is a small painting – 6″ by 12″ on panel– that is part of The Jubilee Dance, my solo show now hanging at the West End Gallery. The show ends Thursday, November 12.
Also, I will be giving a GALLERY TALK at the West End Gallery in TWO WEEKS from today on Saturday, November 7. The talk begins at 11 AM but we are advising that you get there early to make sure you get a seat. Doors open at 10:30 AM. There will be a free drawing at the end of the talk for one of my paintings (which I will be revealing in the next week or so) as well as some other things.
The Gallery Talk is free and open to all.
I think it’s going to be a good one. If you know me, you know I do not say that lightly.