Okay, so this is going to be super weird for most of you. SUPER weird. I grew up in a Pentecostal Christian environment and one of their many practices was the art of speaking in tongues. Well, I don’t know if it’s appropriate to call it art, but whatever. Speaking in tongues is what people do when they are speaking a spiritual language and although it sounds like a plausible human language, it is not understood by anyone else on earth–only by God/Jesus/the Holy Spirit.
Totally confusing, I know. Hang in here with me.
Pentecostal Christians use this particular spiritual gift to express themselves when no human language will suffice. They explain that sometimes their angst, their passion, their urgency within get so overwhelming to the point of overflowing that their earthly language transforms into a spiritual language to bridge the gap between the seen and the unseen.
Whew. That was tough to explain. How did I do? While I myself do not speak in tongues, I can certainly empathize with that overwhelming urgency to express what’s on my inside and lay it all out into the open. It all gets too much to feel and so by handing it over to Other brings me much relief. I do this by running, with writing, even by singing and painting. Art holds the space between the seen and the unseen. Without art, my burdens would be too heavy.
I can always sense when my insides are in turmoil. Well, I get stress diarrhea and hot farts–that’s a given. But I also can’t stop looking around for art. Art to take in, art to put out, art to hold me in the space between.
Music, running, hooping, dancing, painting, writing, reading, singing, laughing, speaking all of these things through my legs, my fingertips, my hips, my lips, my wiry hair, my far off stare, take me in, wring me out, leave me be or let me share.
What’s your art?