a recreation on another plane

"Art is both love and friendship and understanding: the desire to give. It is not charity, which is the giving of things. It is more than kindness, which is the giving of self. It is both the taking and giving of beauty, the turning out to the light of the inner folds of the awareness of the spirit. It is a recreation on another plane of the realities of the world; the tragic and wonderful realities of earth and men, and of all the interrelations of these."
Ansel Adams

I have always loved the photography of Ansel Adams (some nice examples here). Last fall I had the opportunity to share some of those wild places with my father, and my brother and sister. Even at the time I knew it was one of the moments that birth the memories that will one day tell the story of my life. I have not been to many wild places, but I have loved all the ones I have visisted and felt a kinship with them that I could not explain or express.

There are wild places in the heart, places that are pure and reflective of the beauty of creation. There are places inside you that have yet to be tamed, wild and free and ever-young, where the wind blows cold and smells like the snow, where the warmth of your smile is like the kiss of the sun, where dreams are born and the future flows forth like water from a natural spring.

You and I are the work of a Creator, an insult to be termed a mere man or woman. Sometimes our hearts can be too civilized. Concrete does a good job of keeping the bottom of our shoes clean, but shoes were made to be worn, not be be cared for. There are paths of concrete in my heart, civilized places that are neat and straight, clean and predictable. Concrete can be fashioned but sets hard. In rare and precious moments I also see the places in my heart that are wild and pure, the work of a Creator who's medium is not concrete but rather living stones. A glimpse of creation tells me something about the artist. As C.S. Lewis said: "He's not a tame lion."

Somehow Ansel Adams was gifted to capture on film the wildness and awe, not only of the places he visited, but of his own heart's response to the beauty displayed. In a letter to his friend Cedric Wright he talked about art and love and beauty. This phrase particularly captured my attention: " a recreation on another plane of the realities of the world."

My Father is a Creator. We are created in His image. No wonder then that all our best points to Him, our desires and longings, if truly understood, all for Him, our highest and best efforts simply an imitation of His handiwork, a recreation on another plane. We are simply trying to be like Him, and I don't see that as a bad thing at all. My son wants to be like me, and I love him for it. I want to be like my Father. The wild places of the earth point me to Him, the wild places of my own heart show me the fingerprints of God.