Blog-Swap number three is
upon us: I, Aubree (author of Akashic
Aisles: The Basement View), am posting my “take” on the below image, while
Jenn – who runs this blog, Embrace Your
Crazy - is posting her perspective
on the same image across the way at, The Basement. And…Voila!
The “swap” has been swapped.
Before moving on, though:
Already, in three swap-a-roos, I have learned
something rather fascinating. Of course
I knew that individual interpretation of all things artistic covers a vast
expanse from one person to another. I
did not realize, however, how different the manner in which we discover our
interpretations of a single piece can be, and often is.
For instance, I have learned that I am not detail
oriented in my artistic ruminations. An image
does not affect me in parts and pieces; it affects me as a whole…as a story
(which, I suppose is not entirely shocking, once considered). Rather than seeing it as a slow and
unraveling depiction of line and color, art impacts me like a tidal wave, and
my emotions continue to follow the tale past the point of impact and well into
the undepicted village that lies beyond the frame.
Sure, this is an interesting discovery I have made about myself;
but that is not why I am sharing it. I
am prefacing the following text with this revelation, because I believe it
necessary to do so.
Now, onto the tale: beginning at the point of visual
introduction to the simultaneous point of impact….and beyond.
 |
| "The masons build, alter, and determine a structure's facade - brick by brick, but be of right mind in knowing that you can fire and replace the masons at will. A continent can be intimidating in its vast and changing terrain, but be of right mind in knowing that the smallest bit of sand and a sufficient wind can change the face of a mountain" -Aubree Luke |
I have been given occasion
to take the Lookout’s seat in two separate watchtowers, each of extreme gift...and consequence. The towers have been
placed on opposite shorelines on the same continent, but they might as well
be galaxies apart, except for what they have in common: the light within,
and the misery that encompasses their views.
The two know of each
other, because I know of them – invited as I have been to climb the miles of
rickety stairs that exist within both.
Also, the continent that divides them sends tales about one to the
other, as frequently and garishly as possible.
Yet in truth, they know nothing of the other that can flaunt more value than
the briefest glimpse gained as their lights quickly cross, without
stopping.
If only they would stop….
One tower is much larger
than the other, and despite its weakening foundation, the masons insist upon
adding more stone (these are the same masons that refuse to repair the winding
and wobbling interior staircase that leads to the light source). Without considering the tower’s view, the people
that run to and fro - casting havoc throughout the continent that divides the
towers - think it within their privilege to throw rocks of contempt at this
larger of two towers; yet strangely, no mind is paid to the masons who
hurriedly add more and more mortar, brick, and stone…yielding not to the cries of
the foundation as it screams under the crushing weight.
The smaller of the two towers is so much the measure that it is but the slightest fraction in bulk of the larger, and though its foundation remains sound in structure, the small tower sways precariously at the mercy of passing winds. The inhabitants of the continent between the two towers pass harsh judgment upon the smallest, demanding to know why it does not fight to obtain more stone and mortar for itself. And, in fury and frustration, the continent’s populace covers the frail tower’s facade in obscene graffiti; however - yet again - the masses do not thwart, nor condemn the masons who have chosen to leave the building materials by the side of the road to be weathered and deteriorated by time and element, rather than putting them to good use for the sake of the small tower (these are the same masons that refuse to repair the winding and wobbling interior staircase that leads to the light source). No one stops to consider the swaying tower’s view.
On the exterior, these two
towers seem to have nothing in common.
It takes climbing the worn and beaten interior of each to understand the
viewpoint that they cast their wavering, but constant light upon. And rest assured, my friends, it is true that
each member of the dividing continent(s) will have the same occasion as I, and eventually,
the land between the two will lose acreage as Compassion makes water out of
land, allowing the towers to move closer to one another. Indeed, eventually their lights will not be so
eager to pass each other by, and they will share a view of commonality that
sows a growing reverence. Finally, when
the masons are given their share of responsibility, the faltering stairs
accessing the climb to higher perspective will be restructured with blueprints of
safe and nurturing priority.
The two structures will
become one, needing only a single light.
Yet, understand (so as not to be misled with treacherous idealism) that there will be other Towers with viewpoints divided. They will rise again and again, until
every structured pair has housed every light, and every continent in between is
dissolved. Then - and only then - will we all be at home...in the same castle.
