I’m often adrift in my own cynicism. It feels so good, so right, and it comes so naturally. Not because I’m hip, but because it’s easy. It’s like candy or gossip magazines. It’s low shelf stuff that doesn’t require me to think very deeply, but it always makes me feel better about myself.

At what point do we look cynically at our cynicism? Cynicism wants to be wisdom. But is it? Or is it a lesser, sorrier version? Lots of diagnosis, light on cure. It’s easy to be the person at the back of the room throwing stones (or maybe just little spit balls).

I recently came across this beautiful song from the band Gungor. I’m going to try praying this little song. Perhaps God will allow my jaded heart to be healed.

-Paul LeFeber, Blackhawk Church

Church Bells

Let church bells ring
Let children sing
Even if they don’t know why let them sing
Why drown their joy
Stifle their voice
Just because you’ve lost yours

May our jaded hearts be healed
Amen

Let old men dance
Lift up their hands
Even if they are naïve, let them dance
You’ve seen it all
You watch them fall
Wash off your face and dance

May our weary hearts be filled with hope
Amen

It examines the “ecology of churches, chamber series, libraries, on-call studio work and small and mid-size orchestras that neither pay a salary nor offer medical coverage.”

The author goes on to say that, “most people get their ideas about artists and entertainers from the media – TV, the newspapers, radio and so on. When we see actors, musicians, and architects on the covers of magazines or on television, we think we’re getting a look at the creative class. But most often, we don’t see them at all.”

“Creative types, we suspect, are supposed to struggle,” right? “The final irony is that these are times when we most need the arts but seem the most resistant to culture and the people who produce it.”

-Photo by Tori Stephenson

News broke on May 7^th that Kinkade died from a drug and alcohol overdose. A tragic end no matter who you are. I shared the news with a close friend who is a gifted visual artist. I was expecting her to scoff at the irony; the “painter of light” dies of an overdose.

Nullifying my expectations, she said plainly, “well, he was an artist.” Hmm. How had I forgotten? He was born of the same creative fire that fuels any artist. He was eager to create and to share. His art didn’t resonate with some. Does that mean it wasn’t art?

Not only was he an artist, he was also a human. We all have dark nights. We’re each susceptible to the allure of fame and fortune. Did he sell his artistic soul? It’s an easy question to ask, hard to answer. Do you have to compromise your integrity to “make it” as an artist?

Kinkade’s legacy is complicated. I don’t want to oversimplify. I wouldn’t use his life and work as a template for aspiring artists. Still…

All artists share a common lot. We’re often misunderstood and under-appreciated. We’re expendable at best and distracting at worst. The arts get cut when the money dries up; pragmatism and utility takes over. Ours is the world of the economist, the politician, and the engineer, not the artist. Donald Trump gets a TV show; Thomas Kinkade is made a pariah.

So, as my friend pointed out, is anyone surprised that Thomas Kinkade self-medicated? His passing is a reminder for me to cut other artists some slack. It’s a reminder that fame and fortune don’t necessarily mean you’ve arrived. His passing once again tells the story of a creative person run through the gauntlet, unable to come out the other side. Will his story make us more cynical, or push us deeper?

-Paul LeFeber

While perusing through various design websites I happened across a picture of a wooden chandelier that really stuck out to me.  It seemed very unique; stark angles and simple grace.  Our Director of Tech Arts Mark Wyse confirmed that this looked to be a special design and so we quickly set to work.  Basing it both on the image I found and what the needs of our space were I created my own interpretation of the piece using 3d modeling software (Sketchup).  I was then able to build a to-scale virtual version and take measurements of the different elements, estimate cost, and determine board cuts to length.

Mark quickly found some cherry lumber on Craigslist and we picked it up from a beautiful farm just south of Madison.  Brady Parks helped us rip it down to the sizes we needed and from there it was just assembly and rigging.  We used lag screws for the joints and stapled lamp wire that ran to light sockets.  The hardest part was keeping everything at right angles; the boards were only rough cuts and therefore required a lot of effort to fight their inherent warp.

In the end I think the pieces turned out really well and we were all satisfied with our work.  The ‘candle-eers’ gave a unique feel to the Pulse conference and continue to be a great contribution to the Eastside venue.

Andy Geipel
Associate Director of Tech Arts
Blackhawk Church, Madison WI

candleers finished

candleers mockup

candleers construction

candleers inspiration

Art and Grace: the relationship between art, grace, and our motivation for creating
Paul LeFeber – Blackhawk Church, Madison WI

Imaginative Influence: what comic books, the gospel, and the arts all have in common
Tim Mackie – Door of Hope, Portland OR

The Story: we’re part of something bigger
Tim Mackie – Door of Hope, Portland OR

click here to watch video