Milestone
an invitation
I shaved my head this week. I feel a milestone. The end of something. The beginning of something. The transition from preparation to execution. Manifest.
When I played college basketball, on the eve of the first game in the late fall I shaved my head. A summer of preparation and improvement followed by the measurement of competition.
When I took a sabbatical from my restaurant career to determine the direction of the rest of my life, I shaved it.
That time spent unraveling the hospitality business world from my mind and looking for new direction, new goals and precepts, required one shave and as my new life became reality, the hair grew back into my normal lettuce.
12 years from that point, the action has repeated itself. I have spent two years reproving and re-aligning my mission.
Something has ended. Something has begun.
I’m signaling to you, but mostly to myself, that I have learned something significant about my life and purpose.
My shaved head is a nod (see what I did there) to the Monks at The Abby of Our Lady of Gethsemane who provided me the silence and holiness, the example, to organize my goals and embark upon this journey. It would be obvious to point to Thomas Merton, the famous monk who lived there. It would be easy to say: my hero. But he was not a famous writer and thinker until he entered the Monastic life as a Novice. It was there at the Abby that he came to reknown for his work on contemplative prayer, not the other way around. It is the place, the presence of God and the prayers of monks chanting the psalms for the world’s healing that made him, not him.
Two years of struggle has become focused on one physical event. The opening of Angels and Abstracts, a limited exhibition of my work.
You’re all invited, of course.
Here is my suspicion.
I have always known that story creates value. That’s what the brand managers and marketing gurus always say. I knew it to be true.
Here is what I never really knew about my work: It is not telling the story behind the artwork that creates a greater good for the world. Nobody really cares unless it resonates.
My artwork is simply the chapter title for a longer story. The art is only a bi-product of my life. No different from words spoken softly on a first date. No different than skid marks in the underpants of a rambunctious child. No different than a mile marker on the expressway. Each individual piece, a shrapnel of a prayer.
I’ve been living physically, like a monk. I should say, I have been living monastically. I havn’t taken vows. I do not have the commitment or holiness of these great men.
Since I have been building and supporting the success of this Pop-up Gallery, I’ve been out in the world talking to real people. I spoke to an art organization. I did a podcast. Alec Gnass made a short film about me. I’ve had meetings with visitors and potential marketing partners.
Here is what I am finding: I am not interested in talking about art or art process. I have no inspiration to discuss regarding any individual work. It’s not that I am not willing to share my process or tools.
Anyone can make pretty pictures. Anyone can deprive style from what’s come before. Trust me: anyone.
This is what I suspect: I am not being refined by God for my artwork, but for my experiences in this life. My reasons for making artwork, my philosophy of life, my paradoxical and asymmetric thoughts, have been developed by nature and nurture- and directed God.
The way I see the world and the way I see people is the true art. Art that is hard-earned. I am uniquely situated to serve others in a way that nobody else can serve. My approach cannot be matched by anyone else, though we may believe many of the same things…not because I am special, but because I am me.
And my angel oversees the mechanics whole darn thing. As your Angel helps you.
I ain’t no hero and I am not brave. I am not more special than you, only differently situated. The thing I have learned is a commitment to the truth. I would rather be dismissed for saying uncomfortable truth than be loved for a lie.
This is authenticity. Why does this matter? We are trapped by the fake things in this world. Fake currencies and capricious organizations. We are tricked by the false dichotomies of news and politics. Tricked by instagram filters and our neighbor’s shiny car and green, green lawn. We’ve been taught to practice the religion of Moral Relativism.
My art is war. The angels are at war for our souls. You do not overcame evil with evil, you bury it in goodness. Goodness might be ugly in this upside down world. Angels my be forgotten by folks who deny the existence of good and evil.
But that matters not to me. I am living like a monk, in a garage making art with all these things in mind. I write to you and I paint for you. I shaved my head for you and for those monks who taught me that the unseen world is more powerful and important than the seen.
I love you. I will fight for you and with you. I’ll show you all the boogers in my nose and tell you what you may not want to hear. I’ll show you how I overcame my own bad self to do something better for the world, in my little way. I show you these things because I know that you are going through the same things. I know you struggle every day like I do. I know you win, too. It is the sharing of this human experience that I am starting to think may be my superpower.
a blessing to be shared, either in print, in acts of service, in debate
or
Hanging above your couch
a reminder that a simple flawed man tried to overcome evil with love
not by telling a story, but by telling a life
and struggled his ass off doing it
for you
Keusch: Angels and Abstracts
A Limited Exhibition at the Snug
615 E Michigan, Downtown Lansing
