Boston Update #4

Boston continues to be inspirational to me. I have had mini-revolutions in my mind and heart…new ways of seeing and understanding my book. I am, however, somewhat overwhelmed by how to translate my new ways of seeing into the book itself.

I was at an eccentric museum the other day and was so drawn to this small awkward sketch of a dancer on the wall. She was not perfect. But she took my gaze and invited me to see something, though I was not sure what I was being invited to see.

The curator there had already sort of befriended me. He was a kind, bearded old man with a passion for art and a thick accent. He saw me looking at the sketch. I asked him to tell me its story. He asked me if I had noticed the French writing at the top of the sketch…I hadn’t. He explained it translated, “Sorry for the imperfections…I had to draw her with my left hand.”

The artist of the sketch is Degas, the famous French impressionist. The curator explained to me that he drew the picture for a dear friend of his, but because Degas would spend sometimes 20 hours a day painting with his right hand, he was injured and had to sketch this one with his left.

So that explained the awkwardness. But it also explained to me why I was intrigued; why I found it so beautiful.

I am not comparing myself to genius…but I do feel like the act of translating my heart into words on a page is like trying to draw with my left hand. (And I can’t even draw with my right hand.) Words are so difficult, “a raid on the inarticulate” as Eliot says.

But, I love that awkward dancer, because I am reminded again that it is not perfection that is always the most compelling. Something important is worth doing, even if you cannot do it perfectly. The more I think on, dwell in, reflect, love (and yes hate!) my book project, and the more I see so much more about the topic I am writing on…the more my mind and heart expand…but can I communicate what I am seeing? Can I paint an impressionist painting with words…and can what is true and good overcome my awkwardness as a writer?