I Am No Mother Teresa. Issue 19
"Inspiration is for amateurs, the rest of us just show up and get to work." Chuck Close
I have been suffering a creative drought. My brain on life support, my eyes blinded, words escaping me, on a flight to somewhere else. An October image taken from a SoCal window, captures how I feel. Sad, distorted and colorless, an artist (am I?) looking at a faded world through a dusty curtain.
In these past weeks I have been filling the days with the noises of busyness, my nights with excesses of food and drink, my body fed an extra 8 pounds.
While I have waited. For a force. To lift me. For time. To find inspiration.
Or deliver a verdict. The artist has left the building.
Until. This morning I was reminded of Mother Teresa, and the secret she hid. Afflicted with a deep sense of God’s absence for the last half-century of her life, she kept showing up anyway, for FORTY years. In the absence of felt faith, she maintained the actions and principles of it, and created goodness.
Yes I know, don't bother to tell me. I am no Mother Teresa.
But I am a photographer. As is the painter Chuck Close. And so with his admonition ringing in my head, I return to the keyboard to scratch out these words. Tomorrow my camera and I will venture out into the world.
Yes I know, don't bother to tell me. I am no Chuck Close.
But in the absence of felt faith, I will "show up and get to work". ...and see if I can create some goodness.
Powerful decision. It reminds me of how my father, a violist from age 5, practiced everyday, each day starting with scales as he kept time by walking back and forth in our living room. I never thought about whether he felt like or practicing or not. I was just aware of the sound of his viola rising through the house each day.
Agree this is beautifully and artfully crafted. Photographer AND writer? Have an artful Thanksgiving, Kate!
The irony is how incredibly, artistically, beautifully this was written.