What art offers is space - a certain breathing room for the spirit.
John Updike
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Hello from here.
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Does life mirror art, or does art mirror life? I forgot which it is, but I think it's probably both. I've been watching with great interest the repair of the Hubble telescope as shown on NASA TV. I've listened to what the various scientists and astronauts have said about the mission, and I'm now trying to process through my own mind what it means, I'm sure I won't be able to describe the great extent of meaning it has in one journal entry, so I will probably be returning to the topic from time to time, ad tedium.
The astronauts installed some new pieces of equipment and replaced some old ones, all to allow Hubble to see farther and more clearly. Each one of those items was designed and built by scientists and technicians on the earth.
It's true that Hubble looks into space, but it isn't space that interests us. It is the various objects in space, the stars, planets, moons, and other items that define themselves and hence help to define space.
Certain ideas present themselves. As the astronauts looked back to the earth it was obvious that the earth was one of those objects in space and that we live on one dot in the vast, uncountable trillions of dots that define space. And one of the possibilities Hubble may discover for us is if there is intelligent life out there somewhere on another planet. It is most likely that there is and if so no doubt there is more than one. That is a subject for a different journal entry.
The Hubble is a window on to the great scene, the starscape that we live in and thus also a window on to life. But it is also a mirror because as we look out at the vastness of which we are a part it defines our life as well.
Each of those systems designed and built by those here on earth to be a part of Hubble were items that defined life and the space around it. And each one has a function that is specific to the defining of life. They have there reality in their function.
A great painting or sculpture is a mirror of human life in the space that surrounds it. It sends back to us pictures about ourselves. It is also a window into the vastness of the imagination and mentality of human life. Each work of art has its specific function and defines itself as it defines the mental, spiritual space around it. Because of art we can grasp the knowable in the vast sea of the invisible and live comfortably within it.
(To be continued, someday)
Vagabond Journeys
_________________
Strike a new pose in the mirror
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Showing posts with label John Updike. Show all posts
Showing posts with label John Updike. Show all posts
Friday, May 22, 2009
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Upscale Umrage 2/28/09
Without rain there would be no life.
John Updike
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Hello dreamer.
--------------------------------------
I like the rain.
Rain: the grand metaphor for sorrow, trouble, depression, frustration and inconvenience. "Into every life a little rain must fall." "Don't rain on my parade." "Rain, rain, go away, come again some other day." And so on, and so on. We run away from it or carry an umbrella to protect ourselves from it as if it was seven angels dumping plagues on our heads.
Well I happen to like rain. If Nature wants to water her trees, then she can water my head while she's at it. I know about sorrow. Tears can help clean the slate. I know about trouble. It's what makes you knuckle down and solve things. I know about frustration. I own a computer after all. Let the rain come. It can't hurt me.
I used to go hiking in the White Mountain National Forest whenever I could. Sometimes I went out in the rain. One day I took a trail that skirted the side of a cliff. It wasn't a long trail but it was steep and difficult, and very slippery because it began to rain. I donned my rain gear, a large pullover rain coat that came to my knees, with a hood. I also had my big walking stick. As I got near the end of the trail I heard something you don't expect to ever hear way out in the woods. I heard a car door slam.
I was approaching a area of cliffs. At the far end was a road where people could drive up for the view. As the rain was letting up a car came up there. When I reached the top I stepped out from behind the trees and saw a couple standing at the edge of the far cliff, admiring the view. I didn't move because I didn't want to startle them in their precarious position. But the woman saw me grabbed the man by the arm and he looked. They both ran back to the car and drove off as fast as they could.
I don't know what they thought they saw in my long coat, with the hood, my beard and my big stick. I was Jeremiah, John The Baptist, The Old Man Of The Mountain, The Ghost Of The White Mountains, whatever. They are probably still talking about the specter they saw that rainy day,
But think, if I had stayed home that day because of the rain I would never have given them that strange experience to talk about and I wouldn't have this story to tell.
DB
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Embrace a dream today
John Updike
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,
Hello dreamer.
--------------------------------------
I like the rain.
Rain: the grand metaphor for sorrow, trouble, depression, frustration and inconvenience. "Into every life a little rain must fall." "Don't rain on my parade." "Rain, rain, go away, come again some other day." And so on, and so on. We run away from it or carry an umbrella to protect ourselves from it as if it was seven angels dumping plagues on our heads.
Well I happen to like rain. If Nature wants to water her trees, then she can water my head while she's at it. I know about sorrow. Tears can help clean the slate. I know about trouble. It's what makes you knuckle down and solve things. I know about frustration. I own a computer after all. Let the rain come. It can't hurt me.
I used to go hiking in the White Mountain National Forest whenever I could. Sometimes I went out in the rain. One day I took a trail that skirted the side of a cliff. It wasn't a long trail but it was steep and difficult, and very slippery because it began to rain. I donned my rain gear, a large pullover rain coat that came to my knees, with a hood. I also had my big walking stick. As I got near the end of the trail I heard something you don't expect to ever hear way out in the woods. I heard a car door slam.
I was approaching a area of cliffs. At the far end was a road where people could drive up for the view. As the rain was letting up a car came up there. When I reached the top I stepped out from behind the trees and saw a couple standing at the edge of the far cliff, admiring the view. I didn't move because I didn't want to startle them in their precarious position. But the woman saw me grabbed the man by the arm and he looked. They both ran back to the car and drove off as fast as they could.
I don't know what they thought they saw in my long coat, with the hood, my beard and my big stick. I was Jeremiah, John The Baptist, The Old Man Of The Mountain, The Ghost Of The White Mountains, whatever. They are probably still talking about the specter they saw that rainy day,
But think, if I had stayed home that day because of the rain I would never have given them that strange experience to talk about and I wouldn't have this story to tell.
DB
-------------------
Embrace a dream today
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