Thursday, May 04, 2006LegacyI think it's not coincidental that the Jesus story has him rising from the grave after three days. Whether you believe its factual basis or not, that part rings metaphorically true for me. It takes about that long to process, to be in the dark. The old life starts to rot away, to decompose. And then, miraculously, after about three days, things begin to change.I saw this last night with Chris. He'd been looking at pictures of his friend online and spending a lot of time just thinking about her, and her life, and the emptiness created by her passing. I have been doing the same and last night we just sat on his floor looking at pictures on the web and talking about her life. One of the things she was looking forward to was going to the LA County High School for the Arts next year. She had made it through the strenuous auditions and been accepted. Of course, that was just one of the many plans that were ended last weekend. But Chris was looking at the web site and he was thinking maybe HE would like to go there. We started looking at requirements and realized that -- if he really worked hard -- he may be able to be ready to apply by this time next year. He thought he'd rather go into stage acting than music (he plays drums, passionately, but thought acting might be better... as that's what she was doing.) And basically, in the space of about an hour, we came up with a plan. His spirit was lighter suddenly. As was mine. Later, as we were watching an episode of Buffy, I told him: If I could, I'd write a script or a story in which a young girl dies, but gives parts of her life to her friends to use as they continue through their journeys. Maybe he's being given her path of going to this high school and becoming a performer. Maybe someone else will be given a bit of her laughter. Someone else may get a touch of her humor. Whatever it is, maybe she is handing out pieces to her friends, to do with as they see fit. He liked that. A lot. I told him the other day that you have this thing called life. It has these moments that are so bad and so awful that you really can't imagine getting through them. And it has other moments that are so great that you transcend gravity and become filled with light and hope and benevolence for all. Most of life is very much in the middle between these two extremes. Most of life, I've found, consists of pouring one cup of laundry detergent into the washer and pulling the knob to start the water. Or some slight variation on that theme. But art -- art is on a whole different dimension from that continuum. Art, whether you are creating or consuming it, is the thing that makes it all bearable. Whether it's listening to a great symphony, losing yourself looking at a Rodin, or just watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer with your kids. It doesn't have to be in a museum to transform. It just has to be a product of someone getting out of the slog of the daily commute long enough to do something MORE with it than just endure. That piece of the human spirit that is compelled to make meaning out of the meaningless is the crack of light we see, shining around the edge of the rocks. It takes pieces of that occasional transcendence and uses it to infuse the horrible holes with a touch of radiance. # posted by Katherine Doughtie Nolan @ 10:18 AM  
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