Divine Connection
Give me art from your heart,
that's what you need to bring -
not fashion, but passion,
to make my heart sing.
To my ear, loud and clear,
play the notes; sing or hum.
With your soul take control
of guitar that you strum.
Be astute with your flute -
make me shiver and swoon;
grab charcoal - set a goal -
try to capture the moon.
Lose control, bare your soul
on a canvas in oil;
set a mood - attitude -
with the words you uncoil.
Line by line with divine
gifts of art find a way
to create - generate -
a connection today.
By Sharon Flood Kasenberg, Sept 6, 2019
Sometimes, when my mind seems to be processing everything in an endless loop, I ask friends to suggest poetry topics to me.
"Write a poem on the banalization of art", one suggested recently.
When I asked for a bit of clarification, he talked about how art has become "something secondary - like music in the background", and suggested I could tackle the difference between what is really art and what sells commercially as art.
It seemed like a difficult topic for a poem, and indeed I have yet to write one that covers all of those points. As an exercise in moving my thoughts out of the groove they were relentlessly carving through the granite in my soul, my question was a success. For the past week, I have wandered around wondering why society has become drawn to those things that "sell" versus taking the time to search out originality in all types of art, and why it is that we so often relegate art to the background of our lives.
The first thought that inspired a poem is that what is most often missing - in both artistic creation, and artistic appreciation - is passion.
Technological advances have created a climate where we are all impatient. We want everything immediately, and we will often compromise quality to produce, or to acquire, something now. Art is often just another mass-produced commodity - something we buy at a big box store to cover an empty spot on the wall, and "tie the decor scheme together". Do we feel passionately about the print we bought from the sale rack at Home Sense? Probably not, but if it seems "tasteful enough", looks nice against our wall colour, and makes our new throw cushions "pop", we will probably consider it a good buy.
The thrifty among us may take our frugality a step further and attend a painting class, or merely comb through Pinterest boards to learn how to turn our leftover latex, or newly acquired acrylics, into home grown "art". Sadly, few of us will let any originality, let alone passion, emerge onto our newly purchased pristine white canvasses, and will instead opt to carefully follow instructions to copy a project that a whole lot of other people have already done to death.
I don't mean to sound overly critical. My house boasts its share of mass produced art, and I too once painted a stenciled sign for my front entrance. Social media platforms like Pinterest can teach us "how to", but most of us are afraid to take the instruction we receive in a fresh direction, and instead opt for the safe route. Our decor may not be unique, but keeping things homogeneous will save us from the would be critics who might not like what we would produce if we unleashed our originality and went crazy, right?
Most of us don't take the time to visit a lot of art galleries, museums and exhibits to learn about art. We don't study classic literature or poetry. We don't listen to symphonies, or attend concerts, where we hear a broad range of musical instruments played by musicians who practiced playing for thousands of hours before they ever took to the stage.
I'm a fine one to talk - for years I barely listened to any music at home, and settled for the radio or whatever disc my husband put in when we were in the car. I sometimes listened to music online, but my selections had become pretty predictable.
In April I got an iPad, and suddenly began receiving daily YouTube recommendations. At first, most of them were instructional videos on how to play the guitar. (I later found out that the magical Google type powers in cyberspace thought I was a fledgling guitar player, thanks to the fact that one of our former international students used to watch instructional guitar videos on my computer.) Well, curious soul that I am, I watched some of those videos and discovered a fondness for classical guitar, and thanks to some shares from friends I now get a wide variety of recommendations daily - some classical, some rock, some Bossa Nova, some folk...and I listen to them all. I'm discovering all kinds of music that I never considered before, and it has been a wonderful adventure.
I've discovered that a little soft music in the background is soothing, but that I am happiest when I take some time each day to "just listen" - to immerse myself in whatever genre of music fits the mood I'm in that day. I don't care if the featured artist was ever a commercial success. I don't search online to find out how many albums or discs they sold. I simply listen and enjoy.
As a poet who writes almost exclusively in metered rhyme, I am painfully aware of the fact that my chosen genre isn't wildly popular at the moment. I once had a well meaning friend tell me I should consider writing cards for Hallmark, and while I knew it was intended as a compliment, I felt more unappreciated and misunderstood than ever. It is hard to be a creator when you feel that what you produce isn't "popular", and I understand why a lot of artists - painters, photographers, musicians, writers and poets, give up on creating with passion and settle for giving people what they're willing to buy.
It is easy to understand how artists and art appreciators - or art acquirers - might learn to compromise what they would prefer to create - or what they would like to buy, listen to, or read - in favour of what meets the current standards of popular or trendy. At times, we're all a little afraid to move out of the narrow, fashionable comfort zone and wait for that empty space - on the wall, or in our art-starved souls - to be filled by something that unexpectedly, and inexplicably, makes our hearts sing. It can be a long wait to find music that will strike the perfect chord, or read lines that make us want to shout "Hallelujah, Amen!"
It takes courage to wear your heart on your sleeve, and patience and persistence to keep it there long enough to generate a connection between creator, creation and consumer.
I understand that there will always be a place for background music and art that matches the couch. Still, I think we can't afford to let go of our creative adventurousness altogether. Our souls cry out for a little awe, and occasionally we need to look beyond our old stand-bys and favourites; to listen to an unusual YouTube recommendation or ask our friends what they have been listening to. We need to stroll through a local "Art in the Park" and see some original creations - and maybe support one of those artists by purchasing something "one of a kind". We need to visit a library and search out something that isn't on Oprah's Book Club list or isn't a New York Times bestseller.
We might even need to consider reading a post or two written by a crazy blogger/poet who insists on writing in rhyme.
Only through exploration will we find creative expression that gives us a taste of divine wonder.
