Long, long ago, in a distant galaxy …. WHOAAAA! No, no, no … Scrap the “distant galaxy” thing. It was just long, long, ago.
Anyway, as I was saying, when was I so rudely interrupted …. Long, long, ago, I wrote a post entitled “Phantom Morgana” (different blog) and it was a “fair” post, at best. It was in the beginning of my blogging days (early 1700’s). “Phantom Morgana” is a term that I first heard from some New Zealanders on the Ross Ice Shelf in Antarctica. “Phantom Morgana” refers to the visual deception one can experience out on “The Ice” (two words that are used to refer to Antarctica). What happens is that you might be scooting across the sea ice in a Hagalund (a Swiss-made tracked vehicle) and up ahead somewhere, you see some land, or some rock structures, or an iceberg. Five minutes later, what you thought you saw is gone. Thus, “Phantom Morgana”. So, a question that is emerging out of this post, as we speak, is “What are my eyes seeing?”. Uh-oh, here comes another question. Hold on to your hats, people. “How am I seeing?”, followed by another question … “What does my Father see?”
Rembrandt painted many pieces, and one that I have gone back to, time and time again, is “The Artist in His Studio”, with some metaphorical wildness, accentuated by (at least) two questions: “What does this artist see on his canvas? What is he looking at?” And I think of God, often, looking on the canvas, doing His art. I wonder with this picture, is the artist staring contemplatively at a blank canvas? I wonder, if the artist is looking at what has been painted so far, and now … maybe … he is considering where to go next? If Rembrandt was here, I could ask him: “Hey, Man, I have a question for you: What is the dude looking at?” Even if he was here, or near here, I am not sure I could get in to see him. He would probably say to me, “Guess what, Bubba: I’m busy. I’m busy painting. So make like a tree, and leaf.”
My hope is that Rembrandt knew the Lord, and now he is spending time in his amazing studio, painting with colors that are more beautiful than what we have to work with down here. Since “the artist in his studio” is not around, then we are called to let our imagination do it’s thing. So, what do you think? What is the artist looking at, what does he see? And what do you, the artist, see on your own canvas? And what is God doing on His canvas, as He thinks of you?