I CAN RELATE

A few weeks ago The Jealous Curator whom I follow on Instagram posted this meme:

Danielle Krysa who runs the account said she shared the image because for herself and many of us who are creating art around our own experiences (and hoping to sell that art), our work feels “trivial” right now. We aren’t exploring racism, police violence, or the treatment of women and this can lead to feelings of “less than.”

Danielle says: “I feel like that all the time because my current work isn’t shining a light on any big topics, it’s just about my personal issues. BUT I’m gonna keep making and I hope you do too! The world needs artists!”

Oh, Danielle, how I can relate! It is so easy to get sucked into the vortex of thinking that what I make doesn’t matter when I start to play the comparison game or begin to believe the particular artistic voices the world is paying more attention to at this moment are are the only ones that will ever matter.

I am so glad there are artists out there who are moved to address challenging societal issues in their work. It’s amazing to see how what they create speaks in ways words cannot. Images are powerful. What they bring to the discussion of big topics is so valuable.

Several years ago I discovered the work of Titus Kaphar through his TED talk. Kaphar is one artist challenging me to change the way I see and understand.

“Kaphar’s art addresses salient social and political concerns, but it also springs from his own life story. For example, his encounter with his estranged father, Jerome, has led to an ongoing multimedia exploration of the criminal justice system called The Jerome Project (2014–). This series of portraits began with Kaphar’s online discovery of the mug shots of ninety-seven African American men who shared his father’s first and last names. He paints gilded portraits of each man in the style of Byzantine devotional icons, and then dips them in tar. Initially, the depth to which each painting was immersed in tar corresponded to the time that each subject had spent behind bars; in later paintings, this has increased to represent the longer-term implications of social silencing that results from their incarceration.“ — Gagosian.com

No subject or exploration is invalid. The voice of every artist IS needed in our world no matter how big or small. And though it is tempting to want to find a way into the spotlight on current issues, I find it is wiser to support, listen to and applaud those who are there now — this is their moment.

I can then go back to paying careful attention to what the Spirit is whispering specifically to me. I can remember how someone somewhere is helped by what I am about to create.

THE GIFT OF ZED

I took this photo just a few days before the kitten my girls named Zed died. He looks as though he is meowing, but he is real just trying to breath. Little Zed had developed a congestive condition by which he was breathing mostly through his mouth.

Zed spent a lot of time sitting on the sidelines. While his brother and sisters romped around, Zed focused on getting air into his lungs. I would often comment to Madeline and Claire as we watched the kittens, “Poor guy, he’s missing out on his childhood.”

As Zed’s condition continued without getting better or worse, I decided we would take him to the vet (something that isn’t usually done for the farm cats as this can be expensive). He came home having gotten both antibiotic and decongestant shots. That day was particularly hot outside. Zed stayed under a shrub in the front yard most of the day because of his heat absorbing black fur and we all waited for when he might start feeling better. The vet had thought his congestion should improve in just a few hours.

Not much changed as night came and I thought maybe tomorrow will go better now that he had gotten some medication. I was wrong. Instead, I found a Zed who was now clearly dehydrated (I had failed to think about this even though I knew the day before had been swelteringly hot). He must not have been drinking anything. I started giving him some fluids by syringe. He seemed to be going in and out of consciousness while still continually gasping for air. Not very long into my attempts to rehydrate the kitten, I could see that it was too late, he wasn’t going to make it.

I let Zed lay on my lap while I worked in the studio for the afternoon. He would occasionally cry or groan and I would talk softly to him. At suppertime, I laid him out front of the house and his siblings came and laid around him as if they too held the opinion that a dying creature should not be left to suffer alone. They did not wrestle or roughhouse with him.

When we checked on him again after eating, he had passed. We were both relieved and saddened. I was glad his suffering had ended, but incredibly heartbroken to have lost him. I wished I had recognized/anticipated his dehydration a day sooner.

For me, especially now that he is gone, Zed has become a visual metaphor for suffering. Life for Zed had amounted to days and days of suffering.

But can suffering have or be a purpose?

Can suffering be what gives a life meaning?

Is it possible to even see or understand suffering as something to “do well”?

If you are familiar with Victor E. Frankl’s book, Man’s Search for Meaning, this is exactly what he proposes. Having lived three years in German concentration camps during WWII, Frankl discovered that when suffering is at the forefront of a life, it can take on meaning. One can choose to suffer well. This is an accomplishment that God both acknowledges and will reward.

What happened with Zed also gave me a new insight on God. Often when I am suffering in some way, God feels distant. This feeling rises out of a thought that because God is not answering my prayers and removing the suffering He must not be seeing me in my pain.

It struck me the day after Zed died... God watches and cars for us in our pain just as my family and I watched and cared for Zed. I looked at Zed with immense compassion. I mourned his inability to play like his siblings. I went to the front door often to see where he was and how he was doing. I kept him as near as possible during the hours before his death.

This revelation was one where I was able to take something I’ve known about God for a long time — His watching over and caring for us — and understand it through a real world example. Now it clicks. The understanding has reached a new level of depth within me. The Scriptures take on new meaning...

I will never leave you or forsake you. — Hebrews 13:5

“I need to paint Zed,” I thought.

The mixed media collage featuring Zed expresses my own sense of suffering. The song lyrics I’ve chosen from Summer Here Kids by grandaddy makes the piece an open and honest lament.

Having a kitten die here on the farm is nothing new — happens every summer to be honest. Having a kitten die during a not so fun summer of cancelled events and gatherings adds to the grief and disappointment I feel this year.

Praise be to the God who...

hears me cry out in my distress

forgives me of my whining attitude

compassionately watches over me

comforts me in all circumstances

will never leave nor forsake me

Thank you, Lord, for the gift of Zed.