I like the symmetry of today’s date. For the next 31
days, each date will follow the same pattern, twelve, the day, and then twelve
again. By the time we reach January 1st, it will be another 88 years
until that date pattern returns. I will be long gone and its symmetric beauty
will be for others to embrace.
For symmetry to exist, yin must be accompanied by yang. After
a week of focusing on money issues and methodically attending to household
chores, I received an e-mail from the University of Michigan’s Center for
Japanese Studies where they announced that their archived noon lecture series
was now available to view on line. I scrolled through the three years of
lectures and stopped at the title Rashomon’s
Shadow. A Columbia professor in Japanese Literature spoke about the 1950
film, Rashomon and its director, Akira
Kurasawa’s use of personal history to craft his films.
I listened to the lecture intently. As a fan of Kurasawa’s
movies, I didn’t know much about his personal life so the story about how the destruction
of his hometown, Tokyo, first by an earthquake, then at the hands of Allied
bombers, followed by the suicide of his beloved brother had replayed itself through
his films was a revelation to me. Thoughts filled my head, so I took to my
journal. How has my history impacted who I am?
Each of us colors our lives with pieces of our past. The
current psychology of reframing the missteps of our youth, rewriting it so to
speak to make our present existence more palatable seems to run counter to the
life of the artist. The artist doesn’t attempt to whitewash the pain but rather
holds it tighter as if reliving it daily brings purpose to her existence. Through
that pain beauty and vulnerability emerge, expressing itself visually and audibly.
It is little wonder that many artists are emotionally fragile, a large price to
pay for creativity.
Is that why I am drawn to the arts? Does listening to Beethoven
or viewing a Picasso tap that intense vulnerability that permeates every cell
in my body? My own creations are often utilitarian and devoid of emotion. Am I afraid
of exposing my true self to the world, fully aware of the risks that come from
being so exposed? To be that open you must be willing to sacrifice everything.
When I published my first post this past August, I began the journey of tearing down the
walls that have shielded me from the pain that comes with growing up. Despite decades
of life, I am still afraid of criticism, even from those whose respect and opinion
hold little meaning for me. I cower and regress into myself where I face the ugliest critic
of all: myself. But like the closing scene of Rashomon, I too am the woodcutter who sees redemption in the
finding and embracing of a baby. My baby is my writing, still young, vulnerable
and open to all that life can give.
Rashomon’s Shadow – University of Michigan, Center for
Japanese Studies, September 23, 2010
Biography - Akira Kurasawa - http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000041/bio
Rashomon - http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0042876/
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