Defending Beauty Passionately
Five Questions for Tara Wright on Beauty, Hans Urs von Balthasar, and Creativity
Tara Wright is a mom to three boys under five, a Marine Corps spouse, and a content creator for Sesame Workshop. She is also an artist at Tara Wright Studio. Art making is one way she reconnects with her purpose, potential, and dignity, and she helps to spark that same connection in others through beautiful art, meaningful products, and creative experiences. Tara and her family are based in Tulsa, OK.
1. Let’s start with Hans Urs von Balthasar’s masterpiece The Glory of the Lord, which discusses the three transcendentals (goodness, truth, and beauty). He upholds beauty as “the word which shall be our first.” The transcendentals relate to our capacities as human beings to know and love God. How does beauty, in particular, help us to understand the world and deepen our relationship with God?
I think beauty helps us to reconnect with reality. It’s so common for us (myself included!) to go through our days either caught up in a quick pace of obligation and achievement, or to become a little disillusioned with life—wondering if this is it.
The stuff of life—schedules and stress, worry, fear, and even good things, such as caring for children or building a career or business can easily become a sort of veil over our eyes, clouding our vision and taking our attention away from our what should be our true focus: Christ.
But God is an artist, and he leaves his marks all over our lives. And every once in a while, (more often, if we’re looking), one of those beautiful marks—a stunning sunset, a summer rain, a baby’s coo, a moment of collaboration with colleagues, kindness from a stranger—can stop us in our tracks. Look up! Look at me! Beauty captivates us, urging us out of our stupor and self-centeredness.
Beauty is a both/and. While it draws us out of ourselves, it also draws us more fully into ourselves, or at least who and how we are meant to be. And, importantly, who we’re meant to be in relationship with. God is beauty, so his gifts of beauty in our lives are extensions of himself, reminders of his presence with us. He wants to remind us that we’re not here on our own. He’s with us. He wants to be in communion with us.
2. Von Balthasar also says, “We no longer dare to believe in beauty and we make of it a mere appearance in order the more easily to dispose of it.” He defends beauty so passionately further saying that “beauty demands for itself at least as much courage and decision as do truth and goodness.” How do we “dare to believe in beauty” again in our lives and creativity?
I agree with this statement. Beauty, or believing in and receiving beauty, does require courage and decisiveness. It also requires so much trust and humility. I think it all begins with receptivity. We need to assume a posture of receptivity to receive beauty. And in order to do that, we have to show up each day (from moment to moment, even) in such a way that is open to a reality that is different than what we might be experiencing or feeling that day. For example, if I wake up in a terrible mood, it’s going to take effort to set my grumpiness aside, unfold my arms, and open them to receive good things. Foundationally, it requires trust that there is Good God who loves me, despite feeling bad, seeing bad, or witnessing bad things. It takes humility to acknowledge that my experience isn’t the center of everything. (And thank God, for that!)
So, to help us dare to believe in beauty again, I think we can try to grow in trust and humility.
Stay with me here. We might use an artist’s creative practice and workspace as a metaphor: If you set out to develop a creative skill—painting, writing, music, dance—you have to put in the practice. You have to show up, get your tools out, get your supplies out, and do the work. Ideally, you’d have a space where you can leave your materials and half-finished projects out ready and waiting to be picked back up.
How can I make my attitude or my demeanor toward life similarly ready? If I am the art supplies and the workspace, am I ready and waiting for God to pick me up and do some magnificent work? Do I believe in the potential of myself? Do I dare to believe that God can do all things?
Do I accept my role in this metaphor, or am I resistant? Do I want to be my own master? To control the outcome? Do I believe that he loves me so much; that he wants to work on my, with me?
What can I tangibly do to tune in first to the one who loves me so much? Maybe it’s as simple as a morning prayer: Good morning, Jesus. Thank you for this day. Here’s what I have to offer today. You’re a great artist, I know you can use these tools to make something beautiful. Even my grumpiness. You can make this beautiful.
3. You have said that true creativity brings connections with others. How does creativity relate to love, compassion, and communion?
Oh gosh. There are a million threads we could follow on this topic.
Let’s go back to the idea of receptivity. Each one of us is a gift, our lives are pure gift. And each of us has certain skills and charisms that are entrusted to us. Entrusted means we have the responsibility to do something with these gifts. Namely, to share the gifts we’ve been given with others.
Earlier this year I set up at my first art festival. It was my first show in many years, and really the first time I was showing and selling original works of art. The prep work was intense. Being a mom of three little boys, I had to squeeze in art-making when I could, often staying up way too late, and rising extra early to create new works. It was an all-hands on deck effort—my dad built a beautiful display and my husband watched the kids while I was at the show.
It was a little exhausting if I’m being honest. But at the same time, it was a personally validating and thrilling experience for me. I had a nametag that said ARTIST on it. I began to believe in my own giftings so much more than I had before.
But what I was most surprised by—and had almost forgotten in the frenzy of prep work—was the whole point of it: how my art would be received.
Earlier, I talked about how beauty catches our attention and snaps us out of our stupor. At the show, I was able to witness that in action. As people walked around, passing dozens of booths and hundreds of works, they’d glance into my booth, give a gasp of delight and immediately walk in. Sometimes, it looked like they were being pulled in by a magnet.
The sales were great, but it was that pull that even when I think about it now, gives me chill bumps. To think that the Lord chose to work through my hands—my humble materials, my pockets of time during naps and all-nighters—that he would use that time to allow me to create something that would snap someone else out of their own personal stupor. That I could (in a small way) help to remind them of his love for and his presence with them.
So, I think there’s just this essential need to receive the gift we are—not for our own gain, but so that we can be used to offer to others.
4. Our world is also very broken—sickness, suffering, wounds, isolation. What do you think is the role of beauty in shining through this darkness? How does nurturing our creativity help us to see beauty even in the darkness?
I think beauty is the antidote to so many ailments. And again, accepting the beauty of who we are—how we’re created, who we’re created to be, individually and together is the place to start.
Sort of a tangent here, but I get really jazzed up when I think about the potential of something (or someone)—that something can become more than what it is on its own: pigments (rock dust) from the earth, mixed with water and oils become paint. Pair that with a blank piece of paper, bristles of hair on a stick, and you’ve got an artist’s essentials. On their own, these things—dust, hair, water, oil, cotton—are nothing special. But taken together, and infused with intention, become ripe with possibility and purpose.
God is intentional. And how much more intention and attention to detail did he have when forming us? To me, when we’re grateful—not in a pithy way, but in a deep way—for the human experience, it becomes clear that even with all its sorrow and suffering, life is a gift. And, because we have a God who makes all things possible, there’s always the potential for goodness in the midst of pain.
And I think being creative, too—making art or music or poetry or whatever—testifies to the hope and trust we have in the Lord’s care. As we put paint and paper and ideas together, it can remind us that if the materials can become something more we can, too.
5. What are some ways we can strengthen our creative skills and approach our work and life like an artist?
First things first, if you want to grow in some artistic skill, you need to show up often! I’m talking close to daily, if you can. Dedicate a space (a folding TV tray, a corner of the kitchen table, an under-utilized closet), and use the materials you have to experiment and play and practice. Don’t delay and don’t give up. If you need encouragement, echo the Lord’s words: Be not afraid! Remember that when you enter into a creative endeavor, you’re likely to meet the Lord there, and he’s waiting with joy.
And as far as approaching work and life like an artist, there are so many ways! In the talk I gave for CWIB, I invited us to use the principles of design (e.g. balance, movement, pattern) to assess how the ‘masterpiece’ of our lives is shaping up. We might ask:
Are the elements of my life (my roles, responsibilities, habits, etc.) in balance and harmony?
Does my life have variety, interest, texture, vibrance?
Are the rhythms—the movements—of my life directing “viewers” (i.e. friends, colleagues, strangers) to the glory of the Lord? If not, how can we begin to adjust?
Above all, an artist is always iterating and responding to change and challenge with curiosity, joy, and most importantly, connection to the Ultimate Creator. Lean into these things if you want to approach life more artistically!
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