He’s No Longer Here (one of my older watercolors, currently in The Gallery at Redlands)
The true philosopher and the true poet are one, and a beauty, which is truth, and a truth, which is beauty, is the aim of both.
Ralph Waldo Emerson, Nature
My Facebook friends are aware of my current surroundings. It’s taken several days to find time to put this on the blog: Last Thursday, my 94-year-old Dad was taken by ambulance to St. Louis University Hospital for emergency surgery. At the news, I left Arlington, Texas in the late afternoon, pulled over to sleep in Strafford, Missouri from 11:00-2:30, and finally rolled into St. Louis at breakfast time. Showering at my sister’s, I finally got to see Dad in the late morning, still in ICU. Later that day he was transferred to a private room where he will stay at least a week, then transfer to a rehab facility. This morning is the first time I feel optimistic about Dad’s chances. It’s never my intention to go dark on my blog communications. Sometimes that happens because I have zero creative eros, and feel I have nothing to say. This time is different. Driving in and out of the city twice a day to see Dad, then over to the old homestead to see Mom a couple of times a day before returning to my sister’s to crash at night translates into much musing, but zero reading, journaling or blogging.
Opening Emerson to resume reading, I came across the passage I posted above. I read Nature for the first time back in the early ’90’s, re-read it in 1992 and remained unimpressed. With this apprentice piece, I always agreed with critics that he tried to cover too many topics in a single slim volume. However, my reading of the text now is yielding much gold that I was unable to mine or sluice in earlier years.
For a long time now, I have interchanged the words poet and artist when reading classic essays. I do this because poiema in Greek can be translated “work of art” or “workmanship”. And what writers have said about poets seems always to be true about visual artists. After earning my Bachelor’s in art, I spent ten years in graduate school where I immersed myself in New Testament studies, theology and ultimately philosophy. Once I entered the teaching field, my disciplines balanced between philosophy and art.
It wasn’t long after I began teaching that I encountered Keats and his “Ode on a Grecian Urn.” From that day till now, this magnificent verse has sounded deep resonant chords within my being.
When old age shall this generation waste,
Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe
Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say’st,
“Beauty is truth, truth beauty,—that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.”
Thanks for reading. I don’t know how long I’ll wander about my old stomping grounds. But while I’m here, memories from my first twenty-five years will continue to visit me as I visit Mom and Dad and try to offer some measure of assurance and comfort.