"When dawn spreads its paintbrush on the plain, spilling purple... ," Sons of the Pioneers theme for TV show "Wagon Train." Dawn on the mythic Santa Fe Trail, New Mexico, looking toward Raton from Cimarron. -- Clarkphoto. A curmudgeon artist's musings melding metaphors and journalism, for readers in more than 150 countries.
Showing posts with label Plato. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Plato. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 10, 2019

Deep shadows

"Deep Shadows," 5" x 7" watercolor
"Shadow Play," was yesterday's WorldWatercolorMonth challenge prompt, and it had me stumped for an abstract response.
The death of two friends, John Lawton and Jon Finch, in the past week caused me to say to my wife this morning, "Vacancies." Vacancies in life...and thus no physical shadows.
But you know  they leave shadows of a different kind.
In fact, we are multiple shadows. 
Genetically, we are mere shadows of our ancestors, generation after generation, but not just physically. I think mentally and spiritually too. The way we think, believe, act are often shadows also our friends, families, loved ones, environments, cultures and experiences. Spiritually? Regardless of your religious beliefs, if you believe in in an eternity or superior being or reincarnation, you believe you were created. Since G(god(s) are creators, and we're "made in His image," that specifically says we have the shadow of creativity in us, somehow.
Deep shadows of thoughts for a simple watercolor month.
I then thought of Plato's famous "Allegory of the Cave" written in 380 BC in his Republic, one of the most fascinating essays on reality and perception.
When I taught feature writing, I used it to show students that words were mere shadows of reality and it was important to use specific, not fuzzy words. It's been used to discuss education and much more by scholars galore.
For me as artist and journalist though, it is an illustration of how everything we see is a mere shadow of light, of light reflected.
Remember in Genesis 1:2 where God created light--essentially he created color--and shadow. No light, no color, and certainly, no shadows.
Most of what we see are because shadows, or different forms of color as my favorite artist Cezanne proved, form the substance of three dimensional reality.
I guess all this is shadow play, which is why I played at trying to paint, abstractly of course, what the chained prisoners saw as shadows on a cave wall and thought was reality.
So here's "Deep Shadows," 300 lb. d'Arches cold press paper, painted yesterday but the Internet was down.
And here's Plato's "Allegory of the Cave" from his Republic (the Socrates dialogues):
[Socrates:]And now, I said, let me show in a figure how far our nature is enlightened or unenlightened:—Behold! human beings living in a underground den, which has a mouth open towards the light and reaching all along the den; here they have been from their childhood, and have their legs and necks chained so that they cannot move, and can only see before them, being prevented by the chains from turning round their heads. Above and behind them a fire is blazing at a distance, and between the fire and the prisoners there is a raised way; and you will see, if you look, a low wall built along the way, like the screen which marionette players have in front of them, over which they show the puppets.

[Glaucon:]I see.

And do you see, I said, men passing along the wall carrying all sorts of vessels, and statues and figures of animals made of wood and stone and various materials, which appear over the wall? Some of them are talking, others silent.
You have shown me a strange image, and they are strange prisoners.
Like ourselves, I replied; and they see only their own shadows, or the shadows of one another, which the fire throws on the opposite wall of the cave?
True, he said; how could they see anything but the shadows if they were never allowed to move their heads?
And of the objects which are being carried in like manner they would only see the shadows?
Yes, he said.
And if they were able to converse with one another, would they not suppose that they were naming what was actually before them?
Very true.
And suppose further that the prison had an echo which came from the other side, would they not be sure to fancy when one of the passers-by spoke that the voice which they heard came from the passing shadow?
No question, he replied.
To them, I said, the truth would be literally nothing but the shadows of the images.

That is certain.

Sunday, November 12, 2017

Parable of the caves, New Mexico


The old man and the cave
These "caves" are much older than Plato's "cave parable," and while many people will think of Carlsbad Caverns when you mention caves and New Mexico, others dominate my memories. We go way back too.
Actually, they're not so much caves as hollows in volcanic cliffs left from the Jemez Caldera explosions millions of years ago, and humans have populated this area in Northern New Mexico for more than 1,000 years. 
Today, it's known as Bandelier National Monument, in Frijoles Canyon, and  we visited there last month, both of us returning after many years.
With my son Vance, 1960s.
Lots of change in improvements and regulations since I was last back, as there have been with me, but it was good to walk again in that canyon, and think about the people who have gone before, including myself. To me, it is a canyon of memories. Somewhere there's a photo of me peering from inside one of those cavities, but I can't find it.To me, the meanings of theseparables of these caves are about change, aging and eternity.
That's the background for these photos, marking the years and eons.
Mom, Jerry and I, 1950s
Uncle Mike and I, 1950s

Tuesday, June 3, 2014

The allure of caves, what a picnic

Dawn on the stark, flat beauty of the Llano Estacado, Texas
What is it with caves?

The Bells hiking to the cave in Palo Duro canyon
You see one, and you're instantly curious, instantly attracted.

  • Is it some atavistic beckoning from our long distant past, when our ancestors lived in them?
  • Is it some philosophic DNA that draws us, that is in our deep subconscious?
  • Is it just our natural curiosity that has helped us survive and progress through the eons?
  • Or is it much simpler than that?

Plato's mythological Cave Parable comes to mind, where we are prisoners of our words, shadows of reality.
Growing up in the Southwest, I know cave dwellers are much more recent than those from the distant past. Visit the great cave cities of the Anasazi in Mesa Verde, or at Bandelier, and you know.  More recently, consider the dugouts and soddies homesteaders in Oklahoma and Texas lived in not long ago.
Yet, we still live in caves, if you look at crowded cities and the skyscrapers people call home, gathered around their modern fires, seeking safety from the wild world below.
Perhaps that's just too complicated and philosophical. 
Cave dwellers
All these thoughts came to mind this past week when I went on a picnic in Palo Duro canyon in West Texas with my son and daughter in law and three grandchildren, Todd and Dallas Bell, Erin, Abby and Max.
I love Palo Duro canyon because it's easy to go back in time in imagination and see the Comanches camped there, and the cattlemen like Charles goodnight who had a dugout there. After the stark flat beauty of the Llano Estacado, the dramatic colors and erosion of the canyon are always surprising and magic.
Which leads us back to a cave. There are more than one in the eroded cliffs of the canyon, but one is huge in terms of height if not depth.
The kids were talking about it before we even descended into the canyon, wanting to hike to "the cave."
We stopped to eat at a roadside table as it loomed in the distance, and then we hiked there in bright sunshine, up through the sandstone and rocks.
 In the cool of the shade, we relaxed--modern "cavedwellers." Then the Bells gingerly inched up the cliffs to look down into the cave from the top. 
Looking down, you could see the allure of a cave in a wild canyon. We were not alone, as it beckoned several families  before we descended.
Max and the kids looking in from top
It's easy to see time in the canyon, in the layers of rocks and imagination, and we were time travelers, into the past and back to the present. All because of the allure of caves.
Looking back from whence we came--something caves enhance
Palo Duro canyon--surprising and magic