Art is Honest & Palm Has a Face

Wednesday, 25 April 2012

At age twelve, when I answered to my art and drawing teacher why drawing a picture of children with no face and a plant with human's face, he claimed on me:

"You're always good at the concept, but not at the execution."

Well I didn't mean to execute, I just meant to draw.


While today is sad but yet so fun, at least I could laugh all day long just to remember what me and my friend did during the series of presentation. I didn't know where exactly did the joke came from but it seemed amusing to pay attention on human's ambiguity.

It was just really nice to play at our own world as well as to imagine something silly among the room's atmosphere of seriousness. I hope nothing serious next week. *finger crossed*

- M


Chronos and Kairos

Tuesday, 10 April 2012

Walking on Water

by Madeleine L'Engle

Kairos. Real time. God’s time. That time which breaks through chronos with a shock of joy, that time we do not recognize while we are experiencing it, but only afterwards, because kairos has nothing to do with chronological time. In kairos we are completely unselfconscious, and yet paradoxically far more real than we can ever be when we’re constantly checking our watches for chronological time.

The saint in contemplation, lost to self in the mind of God is in kairos. The artist at work is in kairos. The child at play, totally thrown outside herself in the game, be it building a sand castle or making a daisy chain, is in kairos. In kairos we become what we are called to be as human beings, co-creators with God, touching on the wonder of creation.

This calling should not be limited to artists, or saints, but it is a fearful calling. It is both Mana and taboo. It can destroy as well as bring into being.

In Our Town, after Emily has died in childbirth, Thornton Wilder has her ask the Stage Manager if she can return home to relive just one day. Reluctantly he allows her to do so. And she is torn by the beauty of the ordinary, and by our lack of awareness of it. She cries out to her mother, “Mama, just look at me one minute as though you really saw me… it goes so fast we don’t have time to look at one another.”

And she goes back to the graveyard and the quiet company of the others lying there, and she asks the Stage Manager “Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it?” And he sighs and says, “No. The saints and poets, maybe. They do some.”


  © Mayang Rizky The Remedy by Mayang Rizky

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