Larry's response, in case you didn't read it in the comments, follows. He's a very humble guy, one of the reasons I like him. A private guy, who puts his gift right out there OPEN on the beach for everyone to see, to admire...or criticize. It takes strength and trust to do that....all of you creative folk know that when you put your talent out there, you put it out with the chance that you'll be annihilated by someone. So, it's gotta be a God thing!
"*blushing furiously*Hey, folks, it's just sand... but no one else does anything like this. I'm driven by a desire for beauty that runs into a requirement that I leave no tracks.Sand leaves no tracks. The sculpture disappears. But... the sculptor is working in a highly public place. Sand sculpture requires tons of sand and water and there's only one place to find those.It's interesting. Sand sculpture started as an engineering exercise, gradually changed to a design exercise as the engineering became more established, and then became a revealer of something I never thought I'd tangle with: Love.I got saved in 1971, started doing sand sculpture in 1979 while camping with a friend in Maine and then departed from God in about 1982. I kept doing sand sculpture, and when the time was right God brought a man to the beach when I was sculpting.God, sand, love, Jesus. Who'd have thought it. We are fearfully and wonderfully made, as BJK has pointed out today. ~~Larry"
1 comment:
Criticism... Yes, I do get this. Criticism deters people from being themselves; how can you possibly experiment and find out who you are when any mistake, any failure is called out and trumpeted to everyone? "See? I knew you couldn't do it."
We have to be tough to get through. The problem is that toughness becomes the sine qua non of life, and the reason for toughness is lost. What is the toughness protecting?
One day I took some time out from the major sculpture to do a demonstration. I take a very equipment-intensive approach to most sculpture but there is a simple approach. I started making a pile of sand, and a man stopped to watch.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"I'm making an arch out of sand."
"You can't do that." He said this with authority.
I looked him in the eye--I don't often do this, but here I was on well-known ground--and said "Watch me."
Another five minutes, and there was the arch. The man just walked away.
What would compel this kind of thing? Why would he tell anyone that something can't be done? Perhaps he can't do it, but the other person can. It's not my business to tell anyone how to live, nor to criticize what God has taught them.
If you think you can do it, do it! Ignore the criticism. Perhaps this is why God gave me a gift for sand sculpture: something I enjoy enough to get out there and keep doing it even as people ridicule.
The truth is, though, that criticism is pretty rare. Unfortunately it carries power beyond what you'd expect. It goes like a spear to the core of the being, to the soul, and stays there. Until the Holy Spirit reaches in and heals the damage. Assuming he's allowed contact with the heart.
God has many ways to work. As BJK mentioned in a comment, why can't we help each other see this? We're all so guarded. Good reason, I guess; we hope for good but get criticism offered up in the name of love. We have to be tough, and soon toughness takes over. It's easier that way.
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