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A friend and I were talking a few days ago and she said, "You don't have to destroy people's souls for art."
I've been thinking about that a lot. It came back to mind after I saw Fun Home on Broadway too. Art can be very powerful, and provide a great medium/ venue for exploring topics and situations that can be hard to talk about or process. And it doesn't have to destroy your soul - it can inspire our souls and help us feel greater compassion for others.
As a little overview, Fun Home is a show based on a graphic novel memoir about a woman who grew up in a "dysfunctional" home and deals with topics including homosexuality, suicide, adultery, and the power of communication, or lack thereof. The production shows the main character at three different times in her life, jumping back and forth between childhood, college, and the present (around 42 years old). I'll try not to give away too many plot points, but feel that having some background is helpful and necessary.
There are some powerful comments made about time - looking back and trying to understand things:
As Alison tries to process and make peace with her past, and realizes that time can play tricks on you, it reminded me of a similar concept conveyed in Ordinary Grace by William Kent Krueger:
In addition to the theme of time, I was also struck by a comment to Alison from her father:
"I can't see the point of putting a label on yourself."
That idea is all well and good, but we do put labels on ourselves - and on others - all the time. Maybe part of the point is liking and identifying with the labels we have.
This makes me think of You Are Special by Max Lucado - a book about a village of wooden people called Wemmicks who spend all day putting stars (good) or dots (bad) stickers on each other all day.
One Wemmick named Lucia doesn't have any dot or stars - they don't stick to her. A Wemmick named Punchinello who has lots of dots and is very sad asks her why dots don't stick to her, and she tells him to go visit their Maker. He does. When Punchinello asks why Lucia has no stickers the Maker softly tells him, "Because she has decided that what I think is more important than what they think. The stickers only stick if you let them."
We all need people in our lives who help us feel special, to highlight and remind us of the wonderful things about us, just because we are who we are.
But perhaps the thing I've been left thinking about most is the idea of how powerful, and hard, talking can be. Especially to those we are closest with. And how dangerous, and potentially damaging, not talking can be.
As Alison put it in Fun Home:
I think this feeling is also very well captured in some song lyrics - Say Something by A Great Big World:
Why is it that often the people that are hardest to talk to are the ones we are closest to?
Despite all the challenges of life, I found a ray of home in another line from Fun Home: "Every so often there was a moment of perfect balance."
May we all find those moments of perfect balance - build on a expand them. That's my wish.
I've been thinking about that a lot. It came back to mind after I saw Fun Home on Broadway too. Art can be very powerful, and provide a great medium/ venue for exploring topics and situations that can be hard to talk about or process. And it doesn't have to destroy your soul - it can inspire our souls and help us feel greater compassion for others.
As a little overview, Fun Home is a show based on a graphic novel memoir about a woman who grew up in a "dysfunctional" home and deals with topics including homosexuality, suicide, adultery, and the power of communication, or lack thereof. The production shows the main character at three different times in her life, jumping back and forth between childhood, college, and the present (around 42 years old). I'll try not to give away too many plot points, but feel that having some background is helpful and necessary.
There are some powerful comments made about time - looking back and trying to understand things:
"Across oceans of time to get here."
---
"Dig into what is true until now grows into then."
----
"And then it's now"
As Alison tries to process and make peace with her past, and realizes that time can play tricks on you, it reminded me of a similar concept conveyed in Ordinary Grace by William Kent Krueger:
"It seems to me that when you look back at life, yours or another’s, what you see is a path that weaves into and out of deep shadow. So much is lost."
In addition to the theme of time, I was also struck by a comment to Alison from her father:
"I can't see the point of putting a label on yourself."
That idea is all well and good, but we do put labels on ourselves - and on others - all the time. Maybe part of the point is liking and identifying with the labels we have.
This makes me think of You Are Special by Max Lucado - a book about a village of wooden people called Wemmicks who spend all day putting stars (good) or dots (bad) stickers on each other all day.
One Wemmick named Lucia doesn't have any dot or stars - they don't stick to her. A Wemmick named Punchinello who has lots of dots and is very sad asks her why dots don't stick to her, and she tells him to go visit their Maker. He does. When Punchinello asks why Lucia has no stickers the Maker softly tells him, "Because she has decided that what I think is more important than what they think. The stickers only stick if you let them."
We all need people in our lives who help us feel special, to highlight and remind us of the wonderful things about us, just because we are who we are.
But perhaps the thing I've been left thinking about most is the idea of how powerful, and hard, talking can be. Especially to those we are closest with. And how dangerous, and potentially damaging, not talking can be.
As Alison put it in Fun Home:
"Say something - talk to me!"
"It doesn't matter what you say, just make the fear in his eyes go away."
I think this feeling is also very well captured in some song lyrics - Say Something by A Great Big World:
Say something, I'm giving up on you
And I... am feeling so small
It was over my head
I know nothing at all
And I... will stumble and fall
I'm still learning to love
Just starting to crawl
Say something, I'm giving up on you
I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you
-Say Something by A Great Big World
Why is it that often the people that are hardest to talk to are the ones we are closest to?
Despite all the challenges of life, I found a ray of home in another line from Fun Home: "Every so often there was a moment of perfect balance."
May we all find those moments of perfect balance - build on a expand them. That's my wish.
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