See What You Want To See

It takes more than just looking.

I’m sitting near the windows in our living room looking back on a relatively new abstract art piece hanging on our wall. It’s large, about 6’ x 7’ and we love it. Every time I look at it, I see something a little different.

Today, from across the room, I see notes of silver, sprinkles of gold, and a lot of blue leaking into teal. What strikes me from this view are the brush strokes. They are so varied, thick and thin, dots. Strong statements, I think.

But when I get a little closer to the piece, I am shocked back to reality. There is no paint, no brush strokes. My brain just made those up.

Instead, this is a huge piece of very thin metal and what looks like abstract acrylics is really a photograph blown up so many times that it is impossible to know that the image was originally a rusted car the artist found in a junk yard.

That’s right, a junk yard car left for dead is hanging in my living room masquerading as high art.

Art requires us to fill in the open spaces.

What I love most about abstract art in all of its forms is that it’s a new experience each time you look. You never see the same thing twice.

Jackie once announced that when she looked at this piece she saw a shoreline, specifically one we saw in Ireland. Sometimes I am sure we are looking at stars in a very busy sky.

Mostly, I try to close my mind and just look, eschewing my brain’s propensity to compare it to any firm structure or likeness in the world. It is just colors and shapes and I don’t want any manual explaining to me exactly what someone else says it is.

Brains don’t like gaps.

When we don’t have all of the facts and details, our brains will fill in the missing pieces, sometimes getting it right, and sometimes not. Think about reading a sentence and not noticing the missing words because your brain saw them even if they weren’t there. We extrapolate, we figure it out based on past experience and what we think we are seeing.

Art requires something different. It demands emotion and imagination.

That is what draws me to the unstructured thought or the blank page. I love the act of ‘filling in” and finding my way knowing I will head down more than a few dead ends. I love the emotion of possibility—that on my next encounter this piece of art will feel transformative. Or that the next essay I write will change someone’s world (for the better).

This is real life.

Unlike my art experiment, we don’t have the luxury right now of accepting the news of the world as an abstract concept. The news these days feels like a needle stabbing us relentlessly until we either slap it away, or sit still with it, allowing ourselves to feel some pain.

During the pandemic I volunteered at one of our local pantries. My first visit was to a warehouse filled with food and it seemed like there was plenty to go around. That is what my mind “saw” that day.

On subsequent shifts I worked up front, checking in clients or refilling the produce bins. From that vantage point it was hard to miss the long line of people waiting outside for their turn to come in and fill up a grocery bag. On those days I worried we didn’t have enough chicken and bread to go around.

It’s those afternoons that stick with me. I remember thinking that there is no end to that line, no end to the people needing help just to eat. Some folks liked to chat with me and from the few details they shared, my brain filled in what their daily struggle must be like while my heart just felt the stress and anguish of their lives.

Balancing act.

We are sitting on the top of a fulcrum: lean too far forward and we will be mired in our emotions, unable to give our minds enough room to see what truly exists and take action. Lean too far backward and we are in danger of forgetting what is at the heart of our arguments: that these cowards are creating true danger and pain for people the world over.

While our minds perceive the absolute ridiculousness of tariffs against those naughty penguins, we must also keep our balance and let our hearts focus on the neighbor down the street who relies on his social security check, or the kids in school who will no longer get a meal in the middle of the day, or the terrifying prospect of measles coming to our town.

Moral moment

Heart and mind.

If you consider a cliche unmoored from a particular situation, then it is bound to show you its truth.

In the marriage of heart and mind it is sometimes the heart (or in my case, the gut) which is positioned to be the guide. Senator Booker talked for 25 hours about this being our “moral moment.” This came from his heart.

But he developed the argument based on historical truths, knowing full well the consequences that past generations have endured for letting their hearts guide their morality and letting their morality guide their actions.

The time for outrage is past.

If this is our Moral Moment, then we must make the most of it.

Now is the time for action, for our morality to point the direction and our minds to be cogent and strategic. Because we are both thinking and feeling human beings, I don’t worry that we will ever lose our humanity and forget to remember the true individual costs of cowardly actions.

Now that we have momentum and strong numbers, it is time to let our minds be in the driver’s seat and not just do something, but work a plan.

Hands Off!

I hope you’re able to go to a protest on Saturday and if you do, look around when you’re standing in the crowd. Each person there has their own reasons for schlepping out in uncertain weather on a Saturday afternoon.

They are not there just to listen to speeches or read funny signs. They are there to be counted, to see that there are tens of thousands of like-minded people demanding morality and action.

In that moment I urge you to see what is factually in front of you, to let your mind fill in any blanks, and to let yourself feel the full experience of protesting as one of progress, community, resistance, and maybe even a little joy.

Need to find a protest near you?

This website should get you where you need to go. While you’re there, check out the Partners page. There are a LOT of organizations in this fight and they keep adding more each day.

Keepin’ the faith,

Jill