the deceptiveness of simplicity

When I last spoke of simplicity, my friend Roseann--the one with the beautiful picture of the little girl playing--told me that it might have looked simple, but it certainly wasn't simple to make!

That started me thinking. How much of what we see and delight in as simple beauty is actually intricately designed and thoughtfully created to be the simplicity that we see.

I'm reminded of an article about death that I read once long ago.  A man spoke of coming in and seeing a friend who had just died.  He spent time with the friend, and it seemed that he had just gone to sleep.  The simplicity of the picture was very healing, and he appreciated the time he had at the bedside of the loved one.

Later, he was in a position (I forget just how) to be at the bedside of someone who had died moments before.  This was no beautiful picture.  The man had not died easily.  He was anything but peaceful-looking.  The man then realized that his loved one probably hadn't been either.  Someone had given time, love, and effort to make those coming moments that he would share peaceful and beautiful.  He spoke of being grateful to be able to do the same.

Sometimes simplicity is celebrated because of the horror that comes before.  About once a year or so, I fall into a deep depression.  Falling is the appropriate word here.  Depression, for me, is much more manageable if I can see it coming.  This one took me unawares.  It lingered and lingered, and I felt that I was living in horrific darkness--a place totally devoid of light.  This Sunday, though, it began to dissipate.  I'm so thankful for the simple fact of being in the light once again.  Nothing spectacular is happening--I'm just free.  What a simple thing--but what a blessing.

Roseann spoke to me of simplicity in art, and I'd like to close with this.

In my opinion, the best art looks effortless, as if the strokes of paint had just flowed 

perfectly from the brush, resulting in a lovely, "simple" creation. Sometimes that actually 

happens, as if I had been touched by a magic wand and given a gift. I live for those days!

 

More times than not, however, it is a slightly more complicated process. Often, many hours

 of comtemplation and visualizing, sketching and seeking sources for accuracy must take 

place before ever putting brush to canvas. If done correctly, the result is pleasing to the 

eye, flowing nicely from one point to another without apparent hesitation, creating 

"simple" beauty.

 

In my opinion, less pleasing art is created when the piece looks labored or contrived. 

If the viewer thinks "My, that must have taken a long time and it certainly looks hard to do. 

What skill!" ...then I , at least, am not a happy artist. I want the viewer to feel the same

 joy as I felt when when I have really enjoyed the process of creating the painting.  Summary:  

It can be hard to make it look easy.

I want the viewer to feel the same joy as I felt…that is why we strive to do anything, isn't it?  So

let us serve, in simplicity, both God and man.