Creative Frenzy

I didn’t get much response to my blog about Connecting the Dots, but that’s okay; I managed to get me thinking to the point that I’ve gone 180 and counter-pointed myself. (It’s exhausting being inside my head sometimes). In that blog, I suggested that America is, indeed, losing it’s creative spark, and that this is connected with the sad rumor that our Christian light has dimmed, or is hidden under the proverbial bushel. I don’t exactly disagree with myself, mind you, but I have noticed another angle. I wrote from this new perspective in a column for Power Source magazine that will be coming out in the September issue. This article does not address the religious aspect, only the creative one, but I thought it was worth sharing with you. I love hearing your responses. Thanks for conversing.

 Creative Frenzy

(From the column “UNCOMMON SENSE: God’s Gift of Creativity” )

    I’ve heard that creativity is on the decline in this country. Some say we have been lulled into a sleepy slumber, sold out to a commercialized, force fed, cookie cutter mentality, motivated and perpetuated by gross consumerism. I hear generalized statements about people. “People don’t want to think too hard.”  “People are basically shallow, not deep or poetic.” “People are gullible to whatever the market sells them.” No, no, no, no, no. I say, “People have hearts, people need art.”

     Art has a new cyberspace playground these days. It’s exciting. Remember Captain Kirk’s handle: Space, the final frontier? Well, it’s not. For the visionary, there are worlds beyond the worlds beyond this one, and they’re all God’s. God has a way of turning sure finality into promising eternity. These are exciting times for innovative minds. If we’ve ever been in an age when everything is “new every morning,” as the writer of Lamentations so eloquently penned, it is now. Can you see God’s blessing in these changing times?

     Of course, for the organic artist, the potter molding the clay, the painter brushing the canvas, or the songwriter crafting a melody, some things never change. The qualities that make a song great, for example, are timeless, whether that song is rendered digitally or on an old phonograph with a little white dog with a black eye watching it spin.

     From Bach to the Kings of Leon, what keeps a melody interesting is movement, and contour, the dynamics of high and lows, and the variation of intervals and note values. From Handel to Gaither, a great lyric communicates the universal heart of humanity, is honest, and is constructed carefully to make every word count.

     These days, everything is faster, easier, allegedly time saving, that is, until your battery dies and you can’t find your charger. But sometimes I think we miss the point of all this efficiency. Creating more time means you can create more. It means you can sit still long enough to get that book written, or get that second verse exactly right.

      I use to hate writing second verses. By then, the lightning bolt impulse had waned, and it actually became work to make sure the payoff was exactly right. By then, there was a temptation, not to make every word count, but to make every word functional and hope no one was listening closely enough to know that it could be better. Guess what? They are always listening.

     The fun part of God’s gift of creativity is the inspiration, the paying attention, the cupping of the hands while the Holy Spirit pours out the epiphany. The not so fun part is the waiting, and the moment when God seems to be whispering, “I don’t know, what do you think?” Co-writing with God, which is the only way to go, is a fearful and wonderful process.  With God, every word counts. He’s a great lyricist. Just think of the power of those four little words, “Let there be light.” Even if you didn’t know the Judeo-Christian story behind that phrase, you would be compelled to wonder who has the authority to make such a command, why, and what was there before light? Sometimes we can say more with fewer words. For the lyricist, fewer words means more work. I’ve spent entire afternoons on long walks or biking just to get away and find the one right word or image for a line or a chorus. If you finish a song and your lyric sheet looks like a short story, you may have been too wordy. Ah but it’s so easy to ramble on…

     No doubt life is fast paced, and schedules monitored to the millisecond. I say if this crazy world’s gone manic, let’s turn all that hyperactivity into a creative frenzy.

Creative Frenzy

I didn’t get much response to my blog about Connecting the Dots, but that’s okay; I managed to get me thinking to the point that I’ve gone 180 and counter-pointed myself. (It’s exhausting being inside my head sometimes). In that blog, I suggested that America is, indeed, losing it’s creative spark, and that this is connected with the sad rumor that our Christian light has dimmed, or is hidden under the proverbial bushel. I don’t exactly disagree with myself, mind you, but I have noticed another angle. I wrote from this new perspective in a column for Power Source magazine that will be coming out in the September issue. This article does not address the religious aspect, only the creative one, but I thought it was worth sharing with you. I love hearing your responses. Thanks for conversing.

 Creative Frenzy

(From the column “UNCOMMON SENSE: God’s Gift of Creativity” )

    I’ve heard that creativity is on the decline in this country. Some say we have been lulled into a sleepy slumber, sold out to a commercialized, force fed, cookie cutter mentality, motivated and perpetuated by gross consumerism. I hear generalized statements about people. “People don’t want to think too hard.”  “People are basically shallow, not deep or poetic.” “People are gullible to whatever the market sells them.” No, no, no, no, no. I say, “People have hearts, people need art.”

     Art has a new cyberspace playground these days. It’s exciting. Remember Captain Kirk’s handle: Space, the final frontier? Well, it’s not. For the visionary, there are worlds beyond the worlds beyond this one, and they’re all God’s. God has a way of turning sure finality into promising eternity. These are exciting times for innovative minds. If we’ve ever been in an age when everything is “new every morning,” as the writer of Lamentations so eloquently penned, it is now. Can you see God’s blessing in these changing times?

     Of course, for the organic artist, the potter molding the clay, the painter brushing the canvas, or the songwriter crafting a melody, some things never change. The qualities that make a song great, for example, are timeless, whether that song is rendered digitally or on an old phonograph with a little white dog with a black eye watching it spin.

     From Bach to the Kings of Leon, what keeps a melody interesting is movement, and contour, the dynamics of high and lows, and the variation of intervals and note values. From Handle to Gloria Gaither, a great lyric communicates the universal heart of humanity, is honest, and is constructed carefully to make every word count.

     These days, everything is faster, easier, allegedly time saving, that is, until your battery dies and you can’t find your charger. But sometimes I think we miss the point of all this efficiency. Creating more time means you can create more. It means you can sit still long enough to get that book written, or get that second verse exactly right.

      I use to hate writing second verses. By then, the lightning bolt impulse had waned, and it actually became work to make sure the payoff was exactly right. By then, there was a temptation, not to make every word count, but to make every word functional and hope no one was listening closely enough to know that it could be better. Guess what? They are always listening.

     The fun part of God’s gift of creativity is the inspiration, the paying attention, the cupping of the hands while the Holy Spirit pours out the epiphany. The not so fun part is the waiting, and the moment when God seems to be whispering, “I don’t know, what do you think?” Co-writing with God, which is the only way to go, is a fearful and wonderful process.  With God, every word counts. He’s a great lyricist. Just think of the power of those four little words, “Let there be light.” Even if you didn’t know the Judeo-Christian story behind that phrase, you would be compelled to wonder who has the authority to make such a command, why, and what was there before light? Sometimes we can say more with fewer words. For the lyricist, fewer words means more work. I’ve spent entire afternoons on long walks or biking just to get away and find the one right word or image for a line or a chorus. If you finish a song and your lyric sheet looks like a short story, you may have been too wordy. Ah but it’s so easy to ramble on…

     No doubt life is fast paced, and schedules monitored to the millisecond. I say if this crazy world’s gone manic, let’s turn all that hyperactivity into a creative frenzy.

CONNECTING THE DOTS: The Decline of Creativity and Christianity in America

Dot # 1: They say that creativity is on the decline in America. There was an interesting article in Newsweek about it recently. I don’t doubt it. I’d noticed this long ago. At first I thought it was me, that I was being the usual social misfit, never fitting in, always being left of center. Even in a place where creativity thrives, the creatives are going to be in the minority.

I suspect that God, in God’s infinite wisdom, knew that if everyone had the creative jones, then civilization would be a disaster, or maybe even impossible. There would be plenty of ideas, inventions, and soul food, without a way to make any of it useful or available to anyone. It’s not that we’re impractical; it’s that once you create something out of nothing, you have to do something with it. The mad scientist has to comb his hair back into place, step back out of the real world, the one he sees that nobody else does, and make a convincing presentation. Then someone has to build a platform, a stage, or a business.

I have a sad tendency to run back into my cave before I can get to the presentation part. I have, however, peeked my nose around that virtual corner enough times, shaking in my shoes, and found acceptance and appreciation. But you know what I find even more? I find people who are inspired by my courage to create, who want to find their voice, too. There may be a decline in creativity, a sleepy trance cast by the glare of gigabytes and the phenomenon of incommunicable communication, but there is no decline in the need for creativity. Hearts don’t change.

They’ve placed some of the blame for our diminished afflatus (divine creative impulse) upon video games. I’m not sure why. I don’t play video games, but from what I can see they are one of the more creative aspects of our daily chillax time these days. It’s certainly no worse than the couch potato syndrome so popular among the baby boomers. At least now there’s a reasonably healthy aspect of tactility. You can’t snarf down as many chips when your hands are occupied on a keypad.

What exactly is creativity, anyway? The dictionary calls it “the use of the imagination or original ideas.” The thesaurus names it synonymously with “inventiveness, imagination, innovation, originality, individuality, artistry, inspiration, vision, and initiative.” No wonder we need it. Creativity registers a culture’s vital signs.

According to the Newsweek article, the gravest concern regarding creativity’s decline is for the very young and what will become of them, and of future generations. There is a breakdown in the educational systems. Art is secondary. This misplaced priority is taking quite a toll. It is the soul of humanity that concerns them. A reasonable concern for any generation, wouldn’t you say?

Dot # 2: There’s a connection I see in all this. They say (they have a lot to say, don’t they?) that Christianity is on the decline in America, too. Newsweek did an article on that last year, as well. It almost made me tremble, and then I just cried. The president of the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary said there is a  “post-Christian narrative animating large portions of this society.” My heart is racing at the thought of this, racing as though a monster is waiting around the corner to grab me; or maybe it’s a red tailed long horned devil. (A little Southern superstition lingers in my imagination and mingles with my faith). Yet, I don’t think the “post-Christian narrative” is animating anything. Numbing society, perhaps, turning hearts to stone.

But here’s the line I’m drawing from dot to dot. Is there a connection between loss of creativity and loss of Christianity? You see, for me, my religion is not an institution or a set of rules. My religion is an art form. I use the word “religion” synonymously with the word “faith,” but I know that is politically incorrect these days. I am comfortable without the mincing of words. I like the word “religion.” It is not my opiate, it is my heart-felt expression, like a song. I keep it in my private thesaurus synonymous with “spirituality,” “art,” and “faith.” My religion is a palette full of colors from which a canvas is filled with  a beautiful portrait of life and praise. My religion gives me a language, albeit limited, and a community, albeit flawed, where I can pour out my heart in gratitude and trust. My religion is a story and I am participating in it. It is only an expression of a deeper spirituality. It is not political, elitist, exclusive, or empty. It is both personal and corporate, a celebration of our individual uniqueness and our unified love for our Creator.

My faith plugs me into the source of my creativity. I co-create with God. This is why I cannot separate creativity and my faith.

But why Christianity? What if our country becomes Muslim? Or pluralistic? We’re already pluralistic, but it doesn’t seem to want to stay that way. We humans tend to take sides. Will this change our creative trend more? For the better or for the worse? I have only known a Christian United States of America, whether or not we were good Christians. Some things go without saying. “God bless America, land that I love” spoke to the Christian God, the One true and living thou shalt  have no other gods before me God.

If we lose our faith, we lose our creative spark.

I remember when the main proof we had that there is one true and living God who sent His son Jesus to save and bless the world, was the Bible. The Judeo-Christian Bible. Now, it only seems to hold weight in certain circles. To some it is nothing more than a cliquish bunch of narrow-minded backwoods jargon, or at best, something that used to mean something to somebody’s grandma.

I’m hoping the Bible will make a comeback. It was my first inspiration for my writing.

I read the Bible as a creative work first, never as a manual. Yes, I am guided by those life-giving words. I see a world in those texts more flamboyant than Harry Potter’s, more real than Brave Heart’s, and more mysterious than Narnia’s. The Bible is first and foremost, story. Vital, true, relevant, story.

I must admit, though, that I do not see so much creativity in the Christian church these days. Maybe stained-glass and statues don’t get us to God, but those Byzantium artists sure had a way with icons. Images throughout history that I have never even seen have spoken to my heart, such as Michelangelo’s “The Creation of Adam” in the Sistine Chapel or his Pieta, which has inspired a song or two for me.

Christianity began to lose ground in this country when it got stupid and greedy. Greed is cold-hearted. People may respond to marketing plans and choreographed worship for a season, but whether they know it or not, they have a higher standard set for church. It is, indeed, a matter of the heart, of healing, of peace of mind, and of caring. Caring for every person. Christianity is about the Light of the World, not the spotlight.

 Christianity distracts itself with issues of politics and power around it’s self-imposed round table. It’s concave agendas alchemize it into something dark, something Jesus Himself disdained. Read the book of Matthew lately?

It isn’t just money and politics that has quenched the Spirit and brought decline to the faith of our fathers and mothers. It is also fear, too much worrying over who’s wearing the right thing or who’s keeping all the rules. But the answer is not Hawaiian shirts and flip-flops in the pulpits. It’s like Aunt Bea deciding to get a tattoo and some go-go boots and calling herself “hip.” If you’re “churchy,” be churchy; if you’re a hippie for Jesus, be a hippie. Just be real, and do it out of a sincere heart after God and love for His world and all the people in it.

Forcing Christian prayer out of schools was a bad step for this culture. Taking art out may have been even worse. Maybe the answer begins with being alarmed over both of these tragedies. Then, go buy a box of Crayolas and color the sky green and the grass blue. Open up your heart to new possibilities. Write a song. Doodle a prayer. Is there room in cyberspace for another Rembrandt, or Chopin, or Hemmingway? Is there room in the church for unabashed miracle working faith? Is there room in this nation for a little more faith and poetry, and the intangibles that keep laboring humanity alive?

Contexts may change, but hearts never do.

Life 101

Those of us who have come to make regular use of prayer

Would no more do without it than we would refuse air, food, or sunshine.

And for the same reason.

When we turn away from meditation and prayer,

We likewise deprive our minds, our emotions, and our intuitions

Of vitally needed support.

As the body can fail its purpose

For lack of nourishment,

So can the soul.

We all need the light of God's reality,

The nourishment of His strength,

And the atmosphere of His grace.

                                

                              

DON'T PREACH AT THE PREACHER

Guess I don’t worry about what God thinks of me as much as I worry about what other people think. I am convinced of God’s unconditional love of everyone, bold in my presumptions about God’s opinion of me. I am perfectly comfortable discussing any idea with God, the most risky thoughts, the most dangerous emotions, and that thing which is most foolish to share with people, my soul.

It is not the voice of demons that bombard me when I am alone. It is people. I fight for solitude, and they find me there. I tell myself I have permission to listen to God, to create and write, to sing freely, but they censor me. They say I am not noteworthy, have nothing to say that the world wants to hear, and worse, they disagree with me in a way that sometimes stops me in my tracks. Today, I won’t let it.

It’s not that I can’t handle disagreement. A writer’s job is to make people think, and feel, and inspire them to look at themselves and their world and form an opinion. But the people who spit the poison darts that became the little voices inside my head do not take issue with me to make us both better. They wrangle with me out of their own disappointment in their own lives. Or maybe they’re just mean.

Funny thing about disagreement from critics is that if you disagree with their disagreement, you are “narrow minded and incapable of expanding your point of view.” The thing is, we all must take sides. You can’t believe in everything. There are those who tell me that I should not be “preachy” or tell people there is a right way to live. I am, of course, a preacher via pen and pulpit, so this is like telling a carpenter he must not build. It is nonsense. I think the word “preach” has become the problem. It doesn’t seem to bother anyone that the commercials are telling us how to live by selling us their products, that the doctors are telling us how to live with their prescriptions, that the talk shows are telling us how to manage our relationships. “Ah, but the choice is mine,” they suggest. Is it? Sometimes I think we all look like a bunch of cattle being herded along thinking that because we are “informed” we have control; but the subversive ways of man have not changed, and the free thinkers are still few.

Granted, many preachers have abused their platform. Must we all be punished for this travesty? I have a message. I want to tell everyone how to live. “Love one another.” I guess my message is the same as my child’s kindergarten teacher. It is the same as the Dalai Lama’s. It is the same as the chief of police. The law enforcers shoot for a lowest common denominator of love – just don’t kill each other, don’t steal, don’t cheat the speed limit - they carry the stone tablets, the Thou Shalt Nots, and I am an idealist. So is the kindergarten teacher. She thinks that if she tells the children they can be good, or that they can be whatever they want when they grow up, that at least a small percentage of them will. A very small percentage.  Frankly, Barney the dinosaur gives me more hope for the human race than the suits driving us by our own greed. Remember when fireflies in a mason jar made a perfect flashlight, and dandelions danced away with a thousand wishes?

I think we, as a human race should be capable of attaining the kind of love for humanity and creation that Jesus did. Of course, Jesus was God incarnate. I am only God’s temple.

So, I love by infusion. I took a drink of the living water that had been purified by the grace of God. I live in a light stream of guidance, peace, and empowerment, of miracles and  impossible possibilities. I believe everyone can and should.

Do I sound like a crazed preacher? A sappy Christian writer? Mary Poppins meets Billy Graham. How is my discovery about life more outlandish than E=MC2?  Energy, mass, and the speed of light combined before we ever knew the equation to cause and affect this temporal world by invisible means. This universal reality was there all along. Knowing about it changed the world. Maybe it’s time to change it again.

The Arrogance of Religion

I keep a wish list of books I want to read, and one that has been in my purview is Karl Barth's commentary on the book of Romans. I finally ordered it and am having a blast pouring over the pages as I also read and re-read the Biblical text to keep things in perspective.


This book was first published in 1933. I love reading literature from this period, albeit this is a translation from German. English prose was so beautiful, but the words seem big and lofty now - or so I'm told. How sad. Granted, writers in the early 1900's would have never wrapped around txtg.


Barth speaks boldly, at least I would imagine he would seem bold in religious circles. He says things like "The question 'Is there then a God?' is [] entirely relevant and indeed inevitable!" Shushhhh! Barth! You're going to get us all in trouble! 21st century Christians never doubt! In this culture we tend to start above the reasonable doubts with our arguments for our faith, as though it was our place to create the set point of ground zero. But guess what? That's God's job! Honesty works better than religion, and let's face it, the concept of God that we Christians present sounds strange to those who have not "had a revelation." Invisible, intangible, three-in-one, all powerful and all loving but doesn't stop suffering. Things just don't add up. Yet, my heart believes and has dragged the rest of me along with it!


I love this thing Barth says: "[] it is evident that, just as genuine coins are open to suspicion so long as false coins are in circulation, so the perception which proceeds outwards from God cannot have free course until the arrogance of religion be done away."


What he means is, honesty works better than religion! Well, I can honestly tell you that my religion is not false. I am not putting on airs or making things up. I am a scientist of the soul and my faith is my venue. Sometimes I like to say that my religion is an art-form, just another expression of my love for God and creation. I think for me, the "arrogance of religion" has been "done away" because what I perceive to proceed outward from God to all of us is love and grace.

Garden of Tears

Oh, ow, my heart hurts today. Many tears. A deluge of emotion I have held inside came rushing through this week like a furious flood. I didn't hold it all in on purpose, mind you. I don't seem to know how NOT to hold things in. I prefer to hide.

Thankfully, the Holy Spirit seems to know when it's cryin' time again. My friend Daisy Mae always said tears hint at the presence of the Spirit. No doubt. I am healed through my tears. They never happen on cue for me, and are usually inconvenient, but are always right on time.

I've been in such a creative place lately, and the creative existence has a way of opening up my heart. It is such an honest place, pure and raw.

It's funny how the crazier I feel, the more sane I am - I hope. Emotions are a gift from God, and I guess that's what this amounts to, emotions. Emotions are there, whether you know it or accept it or acknowledge it or not. It takes great effort to stuff uncomfortable emotions. It makes you crazy, makes you act out, or take things out on the wrong people.

We women are known for our emotions. We artistic types are excused in our eccentricities by them. How ironic, since no human is exempt.   Well, anyway, where was I? Oh yes, I'm crying over everything today. Maybe my heart is getting ready for another Gethsemane. I feel so aware. I feel so connected. I feel so devastated by the pain and sorrow in this world. I feel.

I'm sure looking forward to Easter Sunday. Lord Jesus, give me the strength to stay and pray with you until then.

Matthew 26:36-46

Much love,
Kim