Insanity
Mike Wells in one of his talks had a great illustration of insanity. I'm taking quite a bit of "artistic license" with it
I'm sitting with a few friends in a booth at a local eatery. There's a lull in the conversation as we lazily gaze about us, taking in the atmosphere, content in just hanging out.
Just then a man bursts in from outside, hurriedly walks up to me, takes a well-balanced stance, points and states quite officially, "You sir, are a rabbit."
I'm a bit startled, understandble, it was an unexpected happenstance. I mentally gather myself and reply, "Why, thank you very much." I get up, and proceed to hop out of the restaurant happy in the knowledge and the belief that I am, truly, a rabbit.
"I couldn't help but overhear your words upon this piece. They inspire me. I refuse to look at paintings the same way again."
Oh he was about to respond, what diamonds of knowledge would spout forth from his mouth? But it was his wife who answered, "Oh deary, my husband here, he's blind. Been blind his whole entire life."
Never take visual arts criticism from a blind man. Never take your identity from what others say, only from what God says.
Who's more insane?
I'm sitting with a few friends in a booth at a local eatery. There's a lull in the conversation as we lazily gaze about us, taking in the atmosphere, content in just hanging out.
Just then a man bursts in from outside, hurriedly walks up to me, takes a well-balanced stance, points and states quite officially, "You sir, are a rabbit."
I'm a bit startled, understandble, it was an unexpected happenstance. I mentally gather myself and reply, "Why, thank you very much." I get up, and proceed to hop out of the restaurant happy in the knowledge and the belief that I am, truly, a rabbit.
Who's more insane here?
Do you believe what people say you are, or what God says you are?
The Golden Tongued Art Critic
"I have to write this stuff down!" I exclaim to myself. The man behind me is waxing eloquent in spontaneous criticism of this work of art. I have never heard this famous painting described in such a way. I had obviously seen it so wrong before. I will never look at the works of Toulouse-Lautrec the same again. As the man starts to wind down his exposition I turn around to regaze upon the piece, La Goulue Arriving at the Moulin Rouge with Two Women. For I shall never see it with the same eyes as before. Wow, as I look I must admit that he is a far greater seer than I, for I cannot see what he described so artfully. But perhaps if I study it more I too will see what he sees so very clearly. I now turn my eyes away from the picture to take in this genius, this visionary. He was standing there with his wife, her head resting on his shoulder."I couldn't help but overhear your words upon this piece. They inspire me. I refuse to look at paintings the same way again."
Oh he was about to respond, what diamonds of knowledge would spout forth from his mouth? But it was his wife who answered, "Oh deary, my husband here, he's blind. Been blind his whole entire life."
Never take visual arts criticism from a blind man. Never take your identity from what others say, only from what God says.