the past few months have been an interesting journey. I have sought spiritual direction but have struggled perhaps more than ever in my holiness. I would like to say that my struggles have at least been valient but sadly it is this simple fact that is the biggest struggle of all. Trying to try. How is it done? Well the book of Wisdom suggests this, "the first step in getting wisdom is... get wisdom". Perhaps Yoda said it best, "do or do not, there is no try."
I have gone through periods of mediocrity and profundity, each glaring more brightly when surrounded by long lengths of the other.
It is a strange feeling though, those times of peace, those moments when you just feel awash with a sense of... well, honestly I don't know what. Its the kind of feel you get after watching Amelie or North Fork. The kind of feeling you get from getting up in the middle of the night and going outside to appreciate how beautiful the sky is. I dont know how to explain it, but frankly more than anything I crave for it to be a constant, and no longer portioned out fleeting moments.
I have been thinking more about what it is that I am meant to contribute to the intellect and the spiritality of the world through my art. One thing that has recently been coming up in meditation on the subject is that of culture.
On the radio I heard a wonderful Irish lady speak about her music. She spoke of how she grew up with great pride in her culture, in her heritage and she felt an obligation to let those stories of her past be heard.
I began to reflect on the state of heritage and culture in my life. I grew up in Denver, I moved to Virginia. My grand parents came from eastern Europe. I look at my life and I find that growing up I had no such cultural upbringing, no heritage to be proud of, no folk stories to tell. My lineage is full of culture, but... I am not eastern european, it is in my blood, but it is not who I am. For a few generations now my family has been American. Now, America has culture, but only in pockets, in places, not as a whole.
Upon further reflection I wonder if it is so much my country as it is our modern world. Culture and heritage comes from the identity of a people. We live in a world that is one huge community, with speed of travel and even faster communication we are no longer tied to our surrounding town. This is a desparate tragedy.
To tell tales. To share stories. To sing songs. To give identity to a culture. To give culture to a community. This certainly seems like noble work.