Archive for God

Frequently Masked Questions

Posted in LIFE IN GENERAL / RANDOM RAMBLINGS with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 5, 2011 by erikball123

Today I mourn with hundreds of Faith students, parents and teachers at the tragic, unexpected passing of one of my students. She died in an accident while on vacation. We just started the new school year…and already my heart is heavy and I’m kinda mad at myself, because I find myself (in my efforts to make sense of all of this) questioning my own mortality. I suppose that’s a natural knee-jerk reaction. But, I’m mad because I feel like “how dare you focus on YOU at a time like this!”I suppose when tragedy occurs, the coming together of friends and family is what gives us peace. It centers our focus so that we may commiserate together. I look forward to a tough Tuesday as we head back to school.

For the record, this young lady was a student in my class…a hard-working, creative, clever, fun-loving beam of sunshine in my every day. I loved that she considered herself unique and had a will of steel. She was determined, she loved her friends and she never hesitated to stop me in the hall for a hug. On top of all of this, she loved her Lord, and I can sleep at night knowing she’s with her Father in heaven right now.

I remember when I was a freshman in college and my parents got divorced…I got so angry. I prided myself in having a great family life and this particular bomb, just blind-sided me. I couldn’t forgive my father for walking out. “This decision was obviously fueled by a mid-life crisis situation and a desire to find happiness”…I kept telling myself. How dare he be so selfish. I have always said, and I will continue to say, you create your own happiness. I was so angry at my dad for giving up on us.

Flash forward to today and the current tragedy…I continue to struggle with the question “why?”…I find myself in a similar spot. I’ve always said (from an ignorant Lutheran’s point of view) that it is okay to question God. It’s okay to go to God in anger, fear, resentment, frustration and sadness. Questioning is okay…so long as you DON’T STOP looking for the answer. That’s why I love God’s style. It’s a selfish man who demands results RIGHT NOW…but a caring, contemplative man who is willing to wait for the answer to unfold over time. God’s blessing of free will and patience is something I take for granted, especially when I want something. I want answers about this young lady’s death. The same investigative mind-set is snooping Facebook searching for details. (I had to physically shut my computer off in order to knock some sense into myself.) The bottom line…this tragic accident shouldn’t have happened to such a wonderful person, and I’m angry. At first I thought…you know what, it’s out of our hands, it’s God’s will. But you know something. That’s not right. God’s will does not include brilliant 16-year to die a tragic death. In Genesis, God didn’t want people to die. It wasn’t until Satan stuck his nose into things that the first tragedy occurred. It’s NOT God’s will. I’ll tell you what it is….it’s God’s PROMISE, that no matter what the devil does to us…no matter what tragedy befalls us…if we trust in the Lord and we know with our mind and our hearts that Jesus is the only way to heaven…then we will be saved.

There’s a cheesy moment in the movie “White Christmas” when Bing Crosby and what’s-her-face is sitting around a fireplace guzzling buttermilk and singing about how we should all count our blessings. I’ve never tried to actually sit down and count my blessings. I tried. First and foremost…hand-writing a list is something I haven’t done in a while! (Welcome to the age of technology!) I got to about #54 before stopping and thinking….this could go ON AND ON! There is a never-ending amount of blessings that we should all sit back and think about. Little ones, like my dog, the roof over my head, my car with working air conditioning, a job to look forward to every day, clothes on my back, food in my stomach and an amazing wife who I get to share life with. There are blessings we forget about…like my friend Joel in NY, who throughout all his schooling and travels and spunky, care-free nature, still takes time to reflect how none of it is possible without the Lord. He’s what I call a “secret witness.” Or even, the beautiful children being born every day! Or the beautiful people of this world who so desperately want to have children, but cannot. Silly things, like television shows that make us laugh. That songs we play over and over again on our iPods that makes us feel “normal” again. The feeling of peace and quiet that moment just before you fall asleep at night. The hot shower that soothes your aching, aging bones. The friend who does something nice for you (like, bringing you a Starbucks!)…or that Grandparent who still drops a letter in the mail for you every now and then.

I could go on and on. I cannot begin to tell you all the things I have to be thankful for…that I take for granted every day. Walking the halls of Faith Lutheran, I look into the eyes of hundreds of students. Students with goals, and dreams, and hopes and fears. I guess what’s hardest about all of this, is the fact that God’s plan is not necessarily laid out for us to interpret. I suppose it’s not expected of us to understand God’s will.

I think I need to study up. I feel myself confusing God’s perfect will with something else…a “Just Do It” or “Trust No One’s” soceity that tells us…”oh well, it’s God’s will.” God has bigger better plans for us. Those plans do not include accidents that claim people’s lives. I can trust that this young lady’s faith in Christ has delivered her to her Father, and that the devil has lost this one.

I guess that’s what I’m struggling with. I’m a power-hungry, control freak…who has to trust in God enough to relinquish control of this situation. To put this (like all my doubts, fears and frustrations) in God’s hands. I’ll try.

To the parents of this young lady…God’s blessings to you. I promise I will continue to pray for you and your family. I will not, even remotely, attempt to try and understand the grief you are experiencing. But I will say this…your daughter was beloved on earth, as she is beloved by our Father in heaven. I will miss her terribly.

Just so you know…my dad and I did make up. It wasn’t too long before I thought to myself, “well, you can’t stop loving your father simply because you can’t understand or, rather get-over a situation.” We talked it out. (It was rough at first.) Down the road he remarried. She a very nice woman. (Her name is Chene…I call them “the old Ball and Chene!” He hates that. It makes me laugh.) But, we do talk, and he and I have a very respectable, loving relationship now. I may not ever truly understand why he decided to get the divorce, but part of life is taking the good and the bad…wrapping it up tight in your head, praying about it…and then attempting to generate something productive with it. I think that’s what God wants us to do.

I will continue to try and do that with both of these situations.

Everyone needs a father, especially in times of struggle. Rest peacefully, knowing that you always do…and He always has an answer…whether you fully understand the questions or not.

Psalm 18:2  “The LORD is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge. He is my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.”

Advertisements

Practice makes perfect

Posted in 1 with tags , , , , , , , , , , on September 14, 2009 by erikball123

I think I’m having a “bad example of a Christian” kinda day. I was watching my Tivo’d “AMERICA’S NEXT TOP MODEL” (I’m a reality show junkie and I admit it. I’m getting help.) There was a contestant….Ashley, or Stephanie….or Vanderpeep! I don’t remember…anyway, she was a self-proclaimed Christian. She kept saying over and over “I’m doing it for Jesus! I want to be a model for Jesus Christ!” And after ever little, tiny, contrived victory she would run around with her hands in the air screaming “Thank you Jesus Christ!” Of course, everybody hated her. I was mad at her as well, fo making Christianity look bad.

Later on that day…I sat eating Ruffles and suckin’ on a Caffeine Free Diet Coke, chatting with a college friend on Facebook. I paused for a moment so that I can skip over to a photo “comment conversation” in which one of my graduated seniors dropped the F-bomb. (All Caps…bold. Oh, yeah….the real deal.) So, being the upright, thoughtful Christian I am…I proceeded to tell her that she should consider a different line of communication and that I’d de-friend her if she didn’t.

I even snarled at a middle-aged man at church today because I didn’t like the cut of his jib.

What’s wrong with me!? Seriously. I find myself more and more EFFECTED by things that most would consider un-Christian like, and feel the need to lash out…and then I turn around a break the rules myself!

We all swear. All of us. I’ve stubbed my toe on the corner of my bed 74 times and each time I paint the walls with profanities! (Mrs. Ball always laughs at me too…which is a topic for another blog.) I’ve found myself finding great “release” after dropping an F-bomb. (And by the way, I’ve decided to give up golf.) I’ve done it! So what gives me the right to criticize? Some have gone as far to say that all Christians are hypocrites.

Remember those WHAT WOULD JESUS DO bracelets? (They came before those plastic yellow ones Lance Armstrong made famous.) They were trendy….and trite. But seriously, I suppose we’re all sinners and have a long way to go…but perhaps that’s the best way to revert to a more sensible state of mind. What would JESUS have us practice? Being loyal isn’t enough. Practicing what you preach should be the goal.

Of course those model girls were on the defensive from the beginning because Vanderpeep was so bloody demonstrative about her faith. She crammed it down their throat. Why? Who knows. Attention? 15-minutes of fame? Maybe she’s an alien. (I’m convinced all celebrities are.)

We can’t just force our beliefs on people…like Kanye grabbing the mic during an acceptance speech and making him look like the biggest jerk in the industry. As long as there is a single fan to stand and applaud him, people will continue to feed on attention and do what they think is right, instead of TRY TO PRACTICE what’s right in the eyes of the Lord. (I didn’t think Beyonce’s video was all that kickin’. Not enough to beam down from the mother ship and stomp on someone else’s moment, anyway.)

So…I suppose I should sum this up. I’m having a grumpy day. One of those days when you wish you had five more hours before bedtime so you can verbally assassinate “The Hills” and Katie Couric’s haircut…and kick the cat. And as I get older, I suppose in my vain efforts to remain connected to the mainstream vernacular, whilst simultaneously quickening my pace to a jog in my walk with Christ….I find myself backtracked, distracted and fooled. So instead of playing Rummikub with the other groaning Christians who have nothing nice to say…I’m going to double my efforts to practice what I preach. Practice makes perfect. It starts now.

I suppose the devil has a few tricks up his sleeve after all. He’s a limely bugga. (But notice I didn’t use the F-word. Pretty good, huh? DANG IT! I did it again! Okay, okay…it starts….now.)

I WANNA BE A “PRODUCE”-ER

Posted in ACTING ONSTAGE, FAITH, FAMILY and FUN, LIFE IN GENERAL / RANDOM RAMBLINGS with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 15, 2009 by erikball123

It got to a blistering 108 degrees today in Las Vegas and I thought my beaded, metal necklace was going to burn a rope mark onto my chest as I walked through the parking lot.

I was at the grocery store getting the weekly goods and found myself spending a lot of time in the freezer section! Upon lugging our frozen waffles and crusty French bread home in doggy-walk bags, my wife and I decided to clean out the freezer. That’s when Emily found it! Not Jimmy Hoffa’s body… (I still truly believe the corpse can be found in the bottom drawer of my teacher’s desk at school)…but, rather,  a bag of frozen broccoli from 2006. We didn’t even live in this house in 2006…how did that happen!? It’s 2009. That’s three year old broccoli. (They say it loses it’s nutrients when you boil it. Hmm.)

broccoli

Got me thinking: What ALL do we forget about? Mind you, I’m not digging for vast philosophy here…I’m merely suggesting that in our daily clouds that are muddied with Americano chugs, “sup” nods and dress shirt pressing, we have a lot tucked in our proverbial freezers that we forget about. It sits there…frozen. It was at one point in time something significant, or useful. Something that we planned for…desired….obtained or toiled over…and then forget. Tossed aside, cozy against the Otter Pops and Pizza Rolls.

EXAMPLE: How many birthday’s did you forget this year? (And the term “forget,” in this setting, refers to something that you didn’t plan for or look forward to. Not necessarily forgot completely.) I can’t remember how many times I’d be watching TV and see a Father’s Day commercial or something, and find myself going “hmm…Father’s Day must be coming up.” And it was Father’s Day. Or, I recall my mother saying to me, “your cousin’s husband just lost his grandmother. They we’re very close. A phone call would be nice.”  I forgot. I never called.

Yeah, that broccoli could easily be something that you purposely avoid…because it’s something you have to deal with and can’t be bother by the insignificance of it all. After all, who wants to eat broccoli anyway, right?

It might be the weekly war between the church pew and the snooze button. It might be the backyard lawn and the hedges that you can’t manage to find time to trim. It could be the “thank you” letter that you forgot to write….or PLANNED to write, but found that re-run of Scrubs more enthralling and the chaise much more comfortable.

That bag of 2006, frost-bitten broccoli could be anything.

I saw a dude pull into the supermarket as I was pulling out. He had a Great Dane in the back seat. I thought to myself  “he’d better not leave him in the car and run in.” Of course he didn’t…because if I didn’t think that, I would sleep at night. But, there ARE morons who do that sort of thing. For those morons…for some reason, at that moment…that broccoli is not as important as whatever he needs to do in the supermarket. People who leave pets in cars are immediately  inconvenienced and are too lazy to deal with it.

That broccoli could be one-more beer past the time you promised to be home. That broccoli could be the prayer forgotten about as you lie half-asleep, actually thinking about how you didn’t pray. That broccoli could be forgetting to say “thank you.”

Forgetfulness in general, is not a happy thing. I visited my two grandmothers last week in Michigan (and it was GREAT to see them both!) and one of them celebrated her 90th birthday. As we visited, I struggled in my communications with her using a college-ruled notebook and an over-exaggerated mouthing technique I call “BALLTALK.” (I usually talk that way anyway.) She’s forgetting a lot. It’s hard to watch someone you love struggle to find a single word so that they can complete their thought. It was a work-out for her.  She had so much to say…and with us living in Las Vegas, expressing herself otherwise is close to impossible. The visit was like watching her struggle to play that Clock Game on the Price is Right. She had to get all she wanted to say out, before time was up and we had to leave. Broke my heart.

The struggle with that sort of “forgetting” is something I can appreciate and lovingly forgive from a third party perspective. But, the “thoughtless” forgetting (for lack of better words) is something we should all strive to work on. It is closely related to a catch phrase that I find myself less willing to accommodate as I get older. It’s called “WHATEVER.”

I have a guilty pleasure. It’s called Judge Judy. I don’t know how to explain it. I certainly do not apologize for my TiVo-ing every episode. I don’t apologize for laughing at the litigants. I even like Burd the Bailiff.  I find great entertainment in watching Judith Sheindlind set traps for the defendants…and then watch them walk right into them. Boo-ya! It’s like a modern day, 12-minute Miss Marple. I try to figure it out before she reveals it. I don’t know….it’s a guilty pleasure.

I find myself in CONSTANT awe at how people get SO wrapped up in their own selfish lives. Granted, I’m no saint! I put off work today for a nap. I find loopholes and “easy way outs” all the time, just like the next guy. But, I can’t explain the number of times litigants simply don’t have answers to simple questions like “why did you do that?” or “when were you going to pay her back?” They truly don’t know…and don’t care. Strike that. They DO know…but hoped that “it” would expire, and then years down the road when someone noticed “it” they were hoping they would simply throw “it” away.  (Did you follow me there?)

I laugh and enjoy the show…and then go back to my own finger-pointing, sinful life doing the exact same thing in differing degrees.

Let’s call it “selective forgetfulness” or rather the need to find daily obligations conveniently forgotten. It’s not the right thing. It’s how dog’s get left in cars…teenage students get pregnant…and broccoli get left in the freezer. We know…we just don’t care ENOUGH to act.

What a sad existence. Hm. Makes me wonder what it would TAKE to light that fire under my butt TO care? I mean, I bought that broccoli in 2006…planned on eating it in 2006…and I imagine I saw it in there from time to time. It HAD to be moved from one house to another when we moved 3 years ago. Yet…I didn’t care enough to strap on my hounds tooth hat and portray “Sherlock Holmes and the case of the Expired Broccoli.”  It remained…comfortable…cozy….forgotten about in the recesses of my temperamental freezer. (Maybe the ice cubes are sending me hidden messages when I ask for cubes and get crushed.)

So, what’s the solution? Should we take a vow of of fresh produce? I don’t think it’s necessary. We’re human and change our minds often. Working out the details in life is something I think God would want us to do, right?

Onstage it’s our job as actors to find moments to make the structure of the story we’re offering live, and thrive…and extend to the receptive audience. The role is one thing…the relationship is another…but it’s the choices we make as performers that binds it all together, breathes new life into it, and propels it forward. If we start character analysis at the beginning of the process with a bag of broccoli…we can do whatever we want to with it…except forget about it. That would be like denouncing the stir fry in which it was originally intended!

I don’t think it’s a crime to change your mind. I think we live in a fast-paced world. It’s okay to feel bad that we can’t communicate effectively with our grandmas like we used to. It’s okay to struggle with a part onstage. It’s okay to find it “hard” to read the Bible, go to church and find time to talk with God. It’s okay.

Again, I’m not digging for vast philosophy here. I just think that we have a natural tendency to find it all too convenient to forget to clean out the freezer from time to time. We shouldn’t assume that nothing actually “goes bad” when it’s frozen.

“I’d like to thank…”

Posted in LIFE IN GENERAL / RANDOM RAMBLINGS, THE HIGH SCHOOL THEATRE CLASSROOM with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on February 23, 2009 by erikball123

A head held high or one for the record books? Which would you prefer?

Slumdog Millionaire just won Best Picture. You might have heard about Heath Ledger (saw that coming!) and Sean Penn. Penelope Cruz might’ve surprised a few…but for the most part we watched  yet another predictable telecast of a mostly entertaining Oscar ceremony led by one of the industry’s most charismatic leading men. I liked some of the new formats presented and for the first time in years I wasn’t bored to tears. (Although I admit I was working on a few costume drawing for Seussical the Musical and tore myself away.)

One thing stood out in the program, and ironically is was a simple clip from a vignette and a movie I haven’t seen in a long time. You all remember “Good Will Hunting” right? Robin Williams’ character says “…you have to love something more than yourself…”

I don’t know what it’s like to be a movie star. I can’t fathom the paparazzi, the exposure…the lavish lifestyle and living in a fishbowl. But I can imagine that that sort of thing would certainly come in between what you do as a performer and how you do it.

award1

Sean Penn, tonight, was praised as someone who doesn’t allow the fame to get in the way of his process, and for the record I have nothing against Penn personally. I enjoy his films. But, I was disheartened to see that on the heels of someone praising his ethics and poise when approaching the craft of creating a character and his unwavering ability to not allow that to be compromised by the heavy chains of stardom, he accepted his award and used the acceptance speech time to get on a soap box and speak about a current political issue on gay rights. Granted the film is about gay rights…but the award is a acting merit award, given to honor the actor and his/her craft. It’s not a promotion. It’s not a platform. And yet, all too often actors (or rather those who routinely gain exposure) use that opportunity to further themselves or their beliefs.

Let’s bring this down to high school theater at Faith Lutheran. We just finished a successful first week run of our high school play. The students did amazing and I felt that the audiences were very receptive. I watched as those bright-eyed students munched on bite-sized cupcakes after the show, still in make-up. These enthusiastic hopefuls, who, at the very least, want to impress and do well onstage made up of a variety of personalities. Some want a career in performing. Some simply enjoy the ride. All too often, as their teacher / director, one of the hardest things I have to do is to attempt to break down that wall that society (and oftentimes their parents and peers) builds up around these young actors. It’s a wall of self-worth, entitlement and pride. I’m guilty of doing it myself.

Acting is appealing in high school because anyone can do it. If you have no arms or legs, you can still be an actor. What separates a good actor from a bad actor is determined by their self-discipline and what others think. It’s subjective. Kids want to fill a fundamental void in their lives by stepping onstage. They’re escaping…gaining acceptance…finding an outlet…utilizing the stage as a surrogate therapy session. Whatever the reason (subconscious or not)…everyone onstage in high school, WANTS to be onstage for a reason. How do you get past that as a teacher, and help those students realize that the craft of acting is MORE than that, and that they need to love it more than themselves in order to truly do it to the glory of God?

My job is part time counselor, theater teacher, drama director…and I carry lots of school keys. Every day changes and shifts into something I never would have guessed. It’s a roller-coaster. The other day I was nearly brought to tears when a first-time actor came off stage and looked me in the eye and said “I’m so happy!” and then rushed away. (You had to be there.) I was also recently nearly brought to tears when I was told a long-time student of mine might consider going to another school, known for the performing arts status symbols and community-recognized talent pool and opportunity.

High School is high school. It shouldn’t be the NBA where kids are drafted or selected or chosen. It should remain a secondary education platform for all students to broaden horizons and expand on things that interest them. We can channel interest, but to focus on a single one and drive it home prior to graduation is setting students up for failure in my opinion.

Leading roles are fun…and exciting, and challenging. But, it’s a supporting role world. Faith Lutheran does not have the best drama program in the country. (It’s DARN close, I’ll tell you!) But, should we even care about that? Is that the goal? To be the best…to get a leading role….to accept an Oscar? If that’s the goal…then count me out. That’s using the talents God gave us as a springboard for our own personal interest and ultimately looking out for number one.

Self promotion gets people in the seats, and I suppose one might argue that you have to be brilliant in marketing before even thinking about opening a show on Broadway or at Faith Lutheran. Entertaining comes with a price. But, the process of shifting focus…redirecting…and remembering not to upstage God…that’s the continuing road every performer must travel.

I look forward to SEUSSICAL auditions in two weeks. In three weeks I will do my duty as grief counselor to those who worked so hard and didn’t get that leading role. It’s all very perfunctory and while I do care for these students and their feelings very much…it’s a very hard job to look them in the tear-filled eyes and explain to them that this is ONE musical. One opportunity…one show…and they are only 16 years old. It’s not about the show…not about the role…not about the opportunity. It’s about knowing why you love something so much, and then investing yourself in that one thing to the point to where you can love it more than yourself. For them, the high school student…it’s recognizing why they wanted that role…and why it’s okay to be upset, but knowing WHY they’re upset. Is it because they lost an opportunity for themselves?

I don’t think I’m there yet. I love the applause at the end. I love the glow of the spotlight. I love make-up and costumes, and props. Love it! Heck, this whole blog post can be construed as my own little soap box! And as a dirty, scummy sinner…I can love my God enough to know that I’m going to have a hard time teaching my students to get past the role and show, and do their best in God’s name, when I struggle to do it myself.

God gave me talents to use onstage to His glory. He did the same to my students and the Academy Award winners. I will pat my students on the back offering a “good show” sentiment, and I can look forward to next weekend’s round two and the auditions afterward. I can maybe even look forward to next year’s Oscar awards. Maybe. But, one thing is for certain…there is no trophy shelf in heaven. As much as I want to be that actor that performs in the name of the Lord…I’ll have to start breaking down my own walls of entitlement and self-motivation.

And even then…how do you pass that down? Loving the art of acting is easy, but loving the Lord more than you love yourself is hard…even in a leading role.

ARTIST vs. VANDAL: The Graffiti Argument

Posted in LIFE IN GENERAL / RANDOM RAMBLINGS with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on February 16, 2009 by erikball123

We are mere days away from opening the first High School production in Faith Lutheran’s new Chapel/Performing Arts Center! “CLUE,” based on the campy motion picture will certainly be one for the record books, and my wife (the director) will certainly consider this the hood ornament on her “drama career” Ferrari.  It’s been a long couple of weeks, and I look forward to a busy final rehearsal schedule and then an even busier follow-up rehearsal schedule as I swan dive into “Thoroughly Modern Millie” rehearsals. (I’ve been cast as Trevor Graydon.)

But, before I go on and on about how sore my feet are…or reveal the secret to magically removing dried paint from under your fingernails…allow me to relive the moment I first began spattering paint on the set last Friday and the look my the students gave me.

I had a hard time explaining to them that up close it looks like little splatters. But from a distance, and under the theatrical lights and magic of “pretend-land”…it looks amazing. Even after tutorials, some remain flat-out unbelievers.

“It just looks messy,” one said. “You ruined my wall!” another shouted! It was a wonderful uproar.

I had the opportunity to visit Home Depot several times this last week.  There is one conveniently located right around the corner of the school, and after my 17th trip to the macho-man mega-store, (casters were on sale), I noticed on the back of a neighboring Atlanta Bread Company restaurant, several graffiti-d “words”…scribbled with cheap spray paint on the exterior, trailing from one end of the store to the other.

Now, I truly believe graffiti, and graffiti artists for that matter, has its place in society. I’ve seen amazing graffiti displayed that I could easily categorize as breath-taking. Even the lettering of some simple offerings are completed with poise, flare and prestige. I think whoever invests time in something…anything…that is original, artistic and theirs (in other words, something they are passionate about)….then it should be considered art.

Art is such a subjective thing. Like theatrical arts, the visual arts world revolves around visionaries and skeptics. I recall, years ago, an commotion upon the displaying of a painting of the Virgin Mary. The artists’ medium was cow manure. The entire painting, which some deemed beautiful, was made entirely from dung. Some called it art…some called it crap. I thought they were both right.

Mayor Oscar Goodman, the martini-drinking mayor of Las Vegas, whose flare for the dramatics is as well-known as his reputation for extending himself beyond any conservatives city limits, made a public statement saying that any vandal caught spray-painting city property will have their thumbs chopped off.

I think graffiti artists have a voice and something to say. And I think they should have a place to display their artwork. With that said, I think it’s a ROTTEN SHAME that vandals scroll unreadable…rushed… “tags” all over the walls of Atlanta Bread Company.

If you’re an artist, if you have something to say (or rather, a message to send) then at least say it in words others can read. At least display it in places where you aren’t cowering in the shadows at midnight, waiting for that one car to speed by. If you want to protest…PROTEST! But at least show your face. If you want to defame, call-out or destroy something…if you feel strong enough, at least have the courage to do it where you can be seen. Anyone who scribbles with spray paint on the BACKS of anything…unreadable nonsense or “gang signs”….and then leaves it….they are nothing but a destructive vandal and a coward. Arguement

ice

Graffiti is misunderstood. Artists in general are misunderstood in some ways. But as someone who is trying to find their “something” that sets them apart…that “something” that makes them special…or, that “something” that needs to be said, don’t allow yourself to be lumped into the same category as thieves, gangsters and criminals. Instead find an outlet, a channel, or a means by which to express yourself in a way that supports your vision or art. I can’t help but think, even IF those vandals did accomplish their goal in successfully tagging that store…what now? Nobody can read it…nobody understands it….nobody cares. And unless your purpose for doing that is to upset people…you’re not achieving anything. And if your goal is to upset people…you’re doing it in a simple-minded way and you will never be perceived as artistic…only destructive.

Maybe that cow-dung artist had something to say with that particular offering. You know it’s said that artists aren’t truly famous until they are dead and the legacy of their art has lived on after they have. Perhaps this young hopeful was looking for a break and found it through a risky piece of art and a little exposure. Perhaps he knew that good or bad press regarding the event would at least garnish him some press. Either way, he was willing to sign his name to the piece.

We all have something special about us. Something that we do well, or are good at. Something that separates us from everyone else. Look around…some of us are very outspoken about our talents. Others, not so much, and I can’t help but think that these people are ones that simply haven’t found the right outlet yet. I always tell my students, if you want to be a doctor or lawyer…go for it! But if you like video games, or skateboarding, or graffiti art….go for it! But it’s HOW you “go for it” that will define you. If you invest everything you have (including hard work at school, a determined spirit, and a don’t-give-up attitude) you can accomplish anything you want, and before you know it, you’ll be designing video games, or copyrighting your own brand of skateboard, or displaying your art to critical acclaim.

The tiny specs of paint on that CLUE set up close look very messy and divided. But from a distance, you can see that thy run together and generate the preferred ambiance.

We together with our separate talents and likes really don’t do much of anything, if we cannot collaborate. And artist is not an artist unless someone is there to look and reflect on their painting. An actor is not an actor without an audience. A graffiti artist is not an artist at all…unless they can define who their audience is. There should be places where graffiti can be displayed. The painter has a museum. The actor, the stage. But I refuse to believe that the side of a dumpster or the back of an Atlanta Bread Company is the graffiti artist’s place.

I took several steps back to observe my finished, painted  set this weekend. I can only hope it’s pleasing to the audience and in God’s eye. Perhaps taking several steps back and reevaluating what your passion is, and how you can better direct it, and questioning if it too is pleasing in God’s eye,  is something that could help reveal that outlet for you.

Sure seems a better alternative to chopping off appendages.

BEATRICE, my beautiful companion

Posted in FAITH, FAMILY and FUN, LIFE IN GENERAL / RANDOM RAMBLINGS with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on January 30, 2009 by erikball123

I have a student who told me that every time her ears are ringing, it upsets her to the point of nausea. Even so much to make her unfocused or head achy. Hmm. When my ears ring, I just get distracted. Let’s hope a crowd of people doesn’t strike up a conversation about this young lady. While my ears aren’t currently ringing, I am immediately distracted by something that is making me unfocused and head achy. Today I made the not so hard decision to put my dog to sleep.

I have three other dogs that I love very much, and I couldn’t have been more grateful to come home to them today. (Penelope is sitting on my lap as I type.) But, Beatrice, my 13-year old, blind, diabetic, toothless chihuahua…held a special place in my heart, and today I had to say goodbye to a dear companion.

What sparked this posting has to do with my inability to come up with a clever idea for a chapel talk I give to the high school next week. Usually my chapel cup spillith over with high theatrics and a song and dance routine that challenges students to be distracted. My incorporation of crazed costumes, choreographed dance and student participation is legendary. I probably get on peoples nerves with the expectation of a horse and pony show at every turn.  I guess I really don’t mind. I do it for the students, chiefly so that they aren’t falling asleep and honestly because I love to perform and be a firm witness while utilizing the few talents God gave me. It’s always a stuffy affair putting it together and I just simply haven’t had the time to coordinate any additional participation this time…so I’m stuck in my office thinking about the theme: “Thank God for Beauty.”

Easy right? Whip out a song from “Beauty and the Beast”…change a few lyrics and add a wink to the audience. But, I don’t WANT to be big and loud this time. I’m baffled. I’m also deliberately trying to distract myself away from Beatrice, who has been occupying my mind all day.

Then it hit me. Not an idea for the chapel talk…still thinking about that one…but about “Beauty.” In first Peter 3 verses 3-4: “Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as braided hair or the wearing of gold jewelry and fine clothes. Instead it should be that of your inner self. The unfading beauty of a gentle spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight.”

Beatrice was a puppy mill doggy. We found this out on our way to PetSmart for a routine shopping venture for a simple container of fish food. They were having the weekly visit from the SPCA. The tents were out and the bandannas were freshly pressed and dangling from every pitbull, terrier and mixed breed in the lot. We walked by and took time to try and make a few tails wag, when I saw this sad-looking, pot-bellied little thing in the top cage, nuzzled in a small heap of newspapers.  She was pathetic looking…and I knew she was coming home with us.

Her belly was black and calloused, and when we took her to the vet we found out that it was a form of yeast infection caused by exposure to an unkept kennel for durations of time. Weeks of medicine and lengthy warm, medicated baths turned her belly fawn and baby soft.

She had two teeth, both infected which were pulled and her tongue poked out the side of her mouth just enough to bring a smile to your face.

She never walked, she shuffled. Her body remained skinny, but she approached her food dish like a tank and ate with passion smacking her watered-down mash with her toothless gums and licking the bowl afterward side-ways with her long tongue. My wife always said that she looked like a wasp after eating, noting her skinny legs and big, full belly.

Beatrice had many problems. She was old, for one. She was not very well taken care of. The reality of a life as a puppy mill dog showed in her weak bladder and loss of muscle tone and low calcium levels. She was tired, and slow moving. She needed a place, soft and warm to retire.

I loved this dog very much. Silly as it sounds, it was kinda like having a grand parent in the house. She was quirky, and predictable…and she let out these wonderful little squeaks when she heard my voice as I walked in the room. That sound would instantly change my mood.

After a while, we noticed a physical change in her, and she was diagnosed with diabetes and we began a routine of insulin shots twice a day. She was a champion and became quite accustomed to the matter, even though her paper-thin skin wasn’t the most receptive of the change.

Over two years this dog shuffled, smacked and squeaked…and made us quite happy. I wouldn’t have changed a moment of these last two years. Slowly, we began noticing a considerable decline in her health in the last week, and upon the urging of our vet, and knowing that she was suffering, we made the decision.

My wife brought her to the vet and held her. I was driving to school for a parent meeting and was listening to a mix playlist on shuffle, when “Waiting for the Light to Shine” from the musical BIG RIVER began to play. I lost it. What a beautiful song. How amazing that it came on right at the time my heart was heavy. And what a wonderful thought that my now blind chihuahua, perhaps is seeing light again.

I refuse to go into it with anyone about pets…and souls…and heaven.

Instead…may I ask a question? One I truly want an answer to. You see, my dog Beatrice had a beautiful spirit…one I cannot explain. She was nothing less than a pathetic-looking, scrappy dog…but inside, and in every move or squeak…I saw that light shine. Why is it we have a hard time finding that light in one another as Christians? I can only imagine it has something to do with indifference, I suppose. To the passer-by, Beatrice looked old…and ratty. But to me…that was a beautiful little dog that brought a pathethic sinner much joy, in a beautiful way, every day.

My students probably don’t want to hear about a dead dog in Chapel.  I’ll remain in search of another idea. But if I could find a way to share that beautiful inside that I know is in all of us…that is hard to find sometimes, but peeks through just enough to make us smile occasionally…then I think I can do away with the song and dance. It’s the little things that bring us closer to God quickly. Miracles happen every day, but I certainly don’t expect a giant flood and an ark in my backyard. But, then again, I didn’t expect a black-bellied chihuahua at the pet store that day either. Instead, I find great joy in life’s surprises and look forward to that light shining in the sallest of places…and then, through us all.

“WAITIN’ FOR THE LIGHT TO SHINE”

I have lived in the darkness for so long
I am waitin’ for the light to shine
Far beyond horizons I have seen
Beyond the things I’ve been
Beyond the dreams I’ve dreamed

I am waitin’ for the light to shine
I am waitin’ for the light to shine
I have lived in the darkness for so long
I’m waitin’ for the light to shine

bea-and-me

%d bloggers like this: