​Within a six-month period, my life had swung from a season of incredible highs, to a stretch of discombobulating lows.  But, it was within this swing of the pendulum that God taught me a valuable lesson about “seeing layers in life."
 
​I was in my early 30s and my life and career had definition and purpose.   It was the middle of 1985, and I was teaching English to the elite in mainland China.  I was called a “foreign expert."  Parties and events were given for me and my colleagues.  I was invited to attend a banquet hosted by a provincial governor.   I was the guest of honor for a day-long “dragon boat” race festival.  I had the means and opportunity to travel throughout the interior of China for several months.  Never in my wildest dreams had I ever envisioned wandering by myself through Tibet and central China.   

Wherever I went, I stood out.  I drew attention, and sometimes crowds, with paparazzi-like interest.  I was treated as a celebrity.  My movements rarely went unnoticed.  As a result, my ego was really built up.   I was on top of the world.   And, it was a heady experience.  
 
By the time I returned to the United States in mid-fall, I was ready for the next mountain-top experience.  Yet, I needed money.  I also needed to rest and get healthy.  So, I was invited to live with some dear friends.  I borrowed one of their cars, and I shared a room with their newborn.  Since, it was too late in the fall to get a position teaching somewhere, I tried to piece together temp jobs. I was in a very dependent state.  I was lost, and trying to sort out “what’s next?”  In the process, I drifted into a major valley.  
 
I ended up getting two part-time security guard jobs which were in odd situations. The most “impressionable” experience was at an art museum. 
 
I was specifically hired to guard a temporary showing of “the Rothko Exhibit."  As I think about now, China may have actually prepared me for Mark Rothko.  My “tolerance for ambiguity” while living in China was fairly high.  I had learned to “roll with situations” and deal with “unknowns”.   I had dealt for months with guessing about food, language, culture, and directions.  I came to expect “being in the dark."  But, as I transitioned back to the United States, I really didn’t expect the ambiguity to continue. 
 
Yet, surprise!  I was to deal with something else I didn’t understand, nor appreciate.  It was the artwork of Mark Rothko.   And, boy on this one, was I ever in the dark.
 
​Mark Rothko was an American Avant-garde artist in the 1950s and 60s.  His art genre was abstract and expressionistic.  He was a “color field painter." He was known for painting two or three horizontal swaths on the canvas which were heavily textured with layers of paint and color.
 
I spent days somewhat dazed by my predicament.  I didn’t “get it," but I dutifully told people, “Please don’t touch the paintings.”  And, tried to “keep busy” watching the “dried paint." 
 
After a few weeks, I was really bored.  I worked in the afternoons and at times the only people present were the other guards.  To make the time pass, I would position myself in front a painting, and consciously try to appreciate it.  I looked for objects within the layers, and tried to identify something.  I tried to see patterns, shapes, or inconsistencies.  I tried to do anything to help the time pass more quickly. 
 
While I can’t say I loved it, I did start to notice that layering can affect texture and color.
 
My takeaway, besides a paycheck, was in identifying the role that texturing has in art, as well as in life.  I had never really thought about something like paint having a texture to it, yet when layers upon layers were added, the texturing began to take a tapestry of its own. 
 
In the process, I had lots of time to think and struggle with understanding the painting on the canvas of my own life.  I was dealing with the loss of position and prestige.  I was still grieving the loss of my dad three years earlier.  I had to face the reality of my qualifications.  For the second time in my life, I had had a role (teaching) overseas that I didn’t have the credentials to do in the United States.  There was starting to emerge a pattern of gaining experience, and then needing to go back to get the necessary training, qualifications, or credentials if I wanted to continue.   Coming to grips with this was critical.  It was also humbling.
 
As the spring of 1986 rolled around, I felt stuck.  What was I going to do next? 
 
I was starting to learn that God works best when I am uncomfortable.  Unpredictability and ambiguity create a vulnerability that opens me up to consider a different perspective.  It exposes me to new and different layers in the canvas that he is painting in my life.  And, dependency and lack of control builds character and intimacy with him, as my Creator.   
 
It is comforting that God sometimes uses mundane experiences in our lives to give us texture.  The mix of experiences in our lives creates a blend that is unique only to us.  God uses texturing in our lives to shape our journey – and instill messages, purpose, and beauty for others to see him in us.
 
While I wouldn’t want to do it again, I certainly have come to appreciate the perspective that I gained during “my days with art."   It definitely broadened my horizons, which is always a good thing.
 
I also need to say that my days with Rothko did have one hidden benefit.  I was able to make someone’s day on at least one occasion.  I was running an errand, and was briefly invited in the entryway of a home.  As I entered, I saw a painting displayed on the opposite wall.  Without a pause, I blurted out, “Oh, is that a Rothko?”  The reaction I got was ecstatic!  You would have thought I had told them how to find the Holy Grail.  The response was, “Oh, you are the first person to ever recognize this.  I can’t believe it.  I just can’t believe it.  Usually, people say, 'What's that?'   Thank you, thank you.  You just made my day."
 
It just goes to show, you never know when your own seemingly trivial life-experience may brighten up someone else’s day – which, I hope "my daze with art" has done for you, as well.

Note: "My Daze with Art" is the thirtieth written portrait from Randy Carr's collection called Reflections in the Mirror: Looking Back to See Ahead - 1954-1987.
 
Photo Credit:  Williamette Week, November 8, 2016

As far back as I can remember, I have been a voracious reader.  I have read myself to sleep many a night curled up holding a book.  I was introduced to the kid's section of our local library fairly soon after I learned to read.  I checked out the books often.  As I got older, I devoured the mysteries of the Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew.

To put it simply, I have always loved getting lost in a story.

In fourth grade, I was designated to read a story aloud at the end of class every day.  The first story I read was Charlotte's Web.  I'm not sure if I was chosen because I had a great reading voice, or if it was the fact that I was accustomed to reading aloud.  As a family, we quite regularly read the Bible, either before or after supper.  I often read the passage aloud.  I doing so, I tackled unfamiliar words with a certain amount of aplomb.  Without knowing it, I guess I was garnering a bit of linguistic acuity.  Unfamiliar words didn't intimidate me.  I also didn't mind reading aloud.  Loudly!

It was at some point in my preteen years that my parents made a purchase that had to be outside of the budget.  It was costly, but it handed me the world.  Literally!  They bought a set of World Book Encyclopedias.

I poured over each volume of the encyclopedias.  At times, I was intentional and systematic in perusing one particular book in the set.  At other times, my search was just hit and miss.  But, before Google existed, encyclopedias were the centralized place to go for quick and concise information.  And I landed there often.

Without leaving our house, the encyclopedia was my window to the rest of the world.  I traveled to exotic and faraway places.  I read about and reenacted historical events in my mind.  And, I was exposed to a countless number of wide-ranging topics.  So, with a growing desire to travel, and a propensity for hands-on learning, the World Book Encyclopedia was the next best thing for a land-locked young boy.  It was my "passport" because it exposed me to the world - well before I ever received my first government issued passport.  

Even though my family never physically travelled more than a couple of hundred miles from our home, nearly every day I went somewhere else - in my mind.  Whether it was near or far, the World Book Encyclopedias tied together my love for reading and my quest for learning.  They also primed my pump to be curious and consider visiting places that I had dreamed about - through reading.

God used my parents - without them even knowing it.  They introduced me to God's world.  Without ever leaving our living room, a seed of curiosity got planted, and grew within me.  Deeply.  And, I am very thankful for it.

Oh, and by the way, in case you want to know, I still love to read.  I am almost always in the middle of a book.  And, thanks to Kindle, my wife is a lot happier.  Why?  Because a line-item in our budget has now been drastically reduced.  

"Reading the World" is the eleventh written portrait from Randy Carr's collection called Reflections in the Mirror: Looking Back to See Ahead - 1954-1987.