Flaws in the Ointment

Alas, two days since I wrote to you, my blog, and posed questions to myself, and already I see some significant–perhaps unsurmountable–problems.

1) I still have little time to write, and when I do have the time I do not feel myself wanting to devote it to writing.

2) I am stuck by the difference in theory and practice. And I am reluctant to attempt to develop theories at the moment. I have the feeling that most of the answers (or non-answers) I am searching for must be searched for through work, not through contemplation. Or rather, through the contemplation afforded by working. I think if I stop in the middle of working to reflect on what I am doing it will short circuit the process.

Here are some thoughts I have had in the last couple of days that are relevant (I think).

The leap of faith required to believe in a Christian world view is really beyond any human being. It is certainly not rational. The obvious answer to what separates people of faith from those without faith is the intervention of God himself through the Holy Spirit. From the outside this must look like nonsense. In a way it is; or rather it is beyond-sense, or beyond or ability to understand through our limited senses. It is no wonder those friends of mine who do not believe think of religion in general and Christianity in specific as a kind of ancient superstition they have outgrown. How could they think otherwise? It is the same sense I have to admit I have at times of doubt. It is what happens we only live within our own experience. It is, ultimately, the great temptation, and the original sin (but that’s another post altogether). When I run into this kind of thinking (even within myself) I find myself a little angry and really, really sad. I think of David Foster Wallace, a great writer who recently committed suicide, largely because he could not escape the weight of his (or, as he project from his experience, anyone’s) isolation.
There is so much pain, and so much of it is self-inflicted.
All the attempt I make to understand the connections between art an faith take me to the same dead end: that is, you can’t really know where you are going until you get there. The artist has to approach the creative process to discover things, not to communicate them. Really, seriously, I believe this to be true, even though it goes against so much contemporary art thought. Sure, art is a formm of communication, but the communication happens because the artist asked questions, explored questions through the material,  and that communication is not usually an answer to the artists original question (the creative process is not like entering data into a super computer), but a series of questions posed to the viewer. The goal is not to come up with better answers, but to ask better questions!
Form and content are inextricably connected.