It is no accident that whenever a totalitarian ruler takes power, the first people to be eliminated are the artists, poets, and intellectuals.
That’s because totalitarian rulers don’t want people to think or feel.
Because if people thought honestly, they would realize they are being controlled with cruelty.
Because if people felt authentic, they would know in their gut that something was terribly wrong. Art moves me. It makes me feel.
Lately, it makes me cry.
I recognized it was a cover of the theme song to Gladiator. Tears welled up and I just started crying. I put that song on repeat and let the grief just pour through me… like… all day long. Lisa was at work so she didn’t have to listen to the song a million times like I did.
What a healing day that was! I didn’t hold back and I really grieved.
(How is it possible to shed so much water?)
So many songs move me. Paintings move me. Photographs. Poetry. Stories. Movies. Dance. All art moves me.
I remember one time visiting the Boston Museum of Fine Art and coming across Merson’s Flight to Egypt… a painting of Joseph, Mary, and Jesus in the arms of the sphinx in the desert at night. I was mesmerized by it for hours. I even bought a print of it and have it hanging in my home. That changed my life too because I felt so deeply the universality of love.
I also remember after I had been fired from a ministry years ago. It was a nightmare. Horrific. So many people suffered who were fired along with me. The abuse was extreme. So many of our friends suffered, some marriages were destroyed, families torn apart, and lives devastated. This happened in the States. We came back home to Canada. I was numb. I felt nothing. Dead inside. I couldn’t feel a thing. Then, one night when Lisa was working, I watched The Notebook. Silly, I know. But it made me cry. It cracked open my heart and I was able, finally, to grieve. Now I could begin to heal.
Does art move you? Has art changed your life?
