Friday, October 10, 2008

There's no place like home...

A Rally Cry for Artists!

During that bleak time in U.S. history known as The Great Depression, there was something called The Works Progress Administration, or the New Deal. In short, the government created an opportunity for artists, writers and musicians to put their collective muses to work in bolstering up the minds and hearts of people who had little inspiration left in their lives, while at the same time creating an opportunity for artists to put a little money back into their ragged pockets.

At the heart of the WPA was a need to capture the moment on film, in writing, on canvas, and in melody. They were to take what was happening, and document it in a way that served both as a historic record and a celebration to the determination and grit that kept people alive and the tiny coals of hope aglow.

Even beyond the government sponsored program, artists of all kinds heard the call of need and desperation. People needed escape. They wanted something that could transport them in that dark hour, to a place where their mind's could take flight, their hearts could mend, and they could forget the growling in their stomachs and the tears that stained their children's cheeks.

It was during this time, in 1939, that The Wizard of Oz came to the silver screen. With it's opening of a black and white life for Dorothy in the dustbowl of Kansas to the sudden sensory tsunami of color as she was whisked away to Oz, it was an epic journey that would make people's hearts burst open with possibility if only they would believe in it.

The message behind all of this is a poignant one. In a time when Big Business grinds to a halt and the hands of hard working individuals wring in worry and despair, it is a rallying cry for artists everywhere. The gift of muse and creativity that comes to us freely can be the glimpse of color through sepia tinted glasses, and the melody that lifts tear stained eyes. It can be the crazy cartoon that still makes children laugh despite the worn threads of their clothes and the worries that are beyond their years.

Art knows no limits. It does not need Wall Street to buy and sell it's heart. It does not need oil barons to back it's worth. It is oblivious to the deception of mortgage companies, credit card telemarketers, and gas titans. It exists, because it is the very essence of the world we live in. It is the rose that continues to bloom in drought. It is the blazing sunset that paints the sky over a closed factory. It is the dance of mist and sparkle of frost over homes in foreclosure. It is the diamond sky and pearl moon above a war torn city. Art exists, because our world exists. Our universe exists. We exist. And to those of us whose lifeblood runs in rainbows through our veins and our every breath is a technicolor sigh, it is our turn to be the infusion of hope in these anemic times. We don't have to wait for a government to set up a program. We don't have to wait to see our neighbor in tears. We know what to do. It is in our very nature to be empathetic to the shift in global consciousness. Now is the time to grab our paint brushes, our pens, our trumpets and blast away the tornado twisting at our back door with a rush of color, light, and song.

The tornado is not here to take us to Oz. We are here to bring Oz to the tornado, banishing it away with a click of our ruby red shoes, singing and dancing all the way home.

~Aimee

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

This is an incredibly beautiful and inspiring post!

-Meegan(PilgrimSoul,FlamingoGirl :) )

beemodern said...

"And to those of us whose lifeblood runs in rainbows through our veins and our every breath is a technicolor sigh, it is our turn to be the infusion of hope in these anemic times."

That is a beautiful sentence.

Barb