Cultivation

On Wednesday, the kids and I started lessons for the year. Among other things, I asked that each read a poem and deal with art every day, and by dealing with art, I mean for them to draw something, watch a video about an artist, look through one of the many art books we have—that sort of thing. On Wednesday, I had them tracing lines; the next day they looked through a book of Valda Bailey’s amazing multiple exposure images. My purpose with such a plan is simply to help them cultivate the habit of making art and poetry part of their lives.

Something I read the other day brought me back to Dostoevsky’s “Beauty will save the world.” Since first encountering that phrase years ago, I’ve come across commentary on it: most echoing the sentiment, at least one challenging it. That’s fine. I have no inclination to defend it. I just know that—at this point in time, anyway—the statement is meaningful to me.

Now that I look back at my notes, I see that it was George Orwell’s essay on Charles Dickens that got me thinking. Orwell wrote, “It seems that in every attack Dickens makes upon society he is always pointing to a change of spirit rather than a change of structure. Useless to change institutions without a ‘change of heart’—that, essentially is what he’s always saying.”

In the same paragraph, Orwell wrote, “Two things can be very much alike and yet abysmally different. Heaven and Hell are in the same place.” This gets the warning lights blinking; therefore, I’ve not had the composure of mind to parse what Orwell might be getting at. His statement leads me to thoughts about Symbolism, Modernism, and the Late Decadent period of Romanticism, a territory in which I’d rather not dawdle.

Nevertheless, I hope to never stop studying history, culture, theology, and science. In some respects, it helps me narrow my focus and adjust my perspective, but even better: understanding how the world works leaves few illusions about what I can do to change any of it. That’s incredibly liberating.