Many Faces

Posted by Melissa Y. | August 19, 2010 | 7 Comments

A few days ago I went to J. Kirk Richards’ open house. The show featured forty miniature, unfinished portraits of Christ.

I went by myself, which enabled me to look at each face as long as I wanted. The diversity astounded me, especially given the limited constraints of space and subject. The images were all facing forward—there was no variety even in angle or posture—yet each had a unique mood and feel.

It got me wondering if I could do something similar in my own medium of writing. Each artistic field is weighted differently, and I wasn’t sure if the concept of playing with color, light, and line could really translate to language. For instance, there’s no direct linguistic equivalent to the feeling of blue. But writing has the advantage of being able to employ multiple senses, even if indirectly—temperature, texture, taste, sound, smell.

Would it be possible for me to take one subject, something even as simple as a tree or rock, and find forty ways to write about it? How could I convey the warmth of amber or the energy of impasto with my words? How would my writing change if I wrote about something I loved—my family or my faith?

One of my favorite writing exercises at the Segullah retreat was reaching into a bag (with eyes closed), feeling various random objects, choosing one, and working through a series of questions about how we might write about the object. What did it feel like? What color might it be? What memories and places do you associate with it? What other perspectives might you view this object from (what does it look like from the sky, from the ground)? What might this object symbolize in your life? It made me begin to realize the depth of simple things once we apply our own experience to them and the power of being willing to plumb those depths.

As I wandered among the many faces of Christ, almost featureless yet distinct, I wondered about the various ways we communicate, the potential of a single word to have multiple layers, the feelings of color and light.

I wondered about how to write like a painter.

Comments

7 Responses to “Many Faces”

jendoop
August 19th, 2010 @ 6:32 pm

When you find out, teach me. I say that tongue in cheek because it would be different for every writer, which is what makes it amazing. It’s like considering the limited notes available and yet new music is constantly being produced.

I do think poets come close to this, the way they use words so precisely, with an immense vocabulary.
michelle
August 20th, 2010 @ 1:51 am

“I wondered about how to write like a painter.”

Really interesting post. Thanks.
traci
August 20th, 2010 @ 8:47 pm

I like this Melissa! When I was an art instructor I had them do 100 drawings of the same object. An ordinary object, no sentimental value or history – later I suppied spoons for the assignment. Remarkable things happened!

It would not surprise me if the same remarkableness happened in writing. Why don’t you challenge us — yourself — something maybe a little organized for those interestd to participate in. Just sayin…..
Lee Ann
August 20th, 2010 @ 9:36 pm

A while ago, a speaker in general conference kinda switched from talking about blessings in general to priesthood blessings in particular, without signaling a switch in usage. It got me thinking about all the ways we use that word. If Eskimos really have 500 words for snow, how many words for “blessing” are there in Adamic? Or is there just one, perfect word that elegantly encompasses all those meanings?

It took me a few weeks, but I wrote down 100 different sorts of blessings (e.g., priesthood blessings, baby blessings, unexpected blessings, blessings I didn’t want…) Then realized there were at least a hundred more to go!
Sue
August 22nd, 2010 @ 10:13 am

Great thoughts and questions! Lots to contemplate here.

=)
Selwyn aka Kellie
August 22nd, 2010 @ 4:05 pm

I can’t paint or draw an identifiable object (though have to say I painted a fantastic abstract piece at the Segullah retreat) and often wish I could create the picture I see in my head or before me.

I’ve realised however that just as a painter mixes different colours together to get the perfect hue, I search through my words to find the one that perfectly captures what I’m wanting to express. It would be interesting to write about the one object repeatedly, just to see what happens!
Melissa Y
August 23rd, 2010 @ 12:43 pm

Yes, Kellie, that’s it–finding the perfect word. I’m just wondering now how many varieties of perfect there are. I’ve never tried to continue to address the same topic once I’ve finished it writing about it, and I wonder what would happen if I did. It’s one of the interesting things that painters seem to do–paint the same subject in multiple ways (Monet’s bridge, for example).

Jendoop, you’re right that it would be different for everyone and that that’s the remarkable thing. We could all be staring at the same rock and have very different essays (or poems, or paintings). We think we are revealing the subject, but I think we are just revealing ourselves. The infinite nature of creativity is overwhelming–we are all infinite beings.