Keep On Keeping On
Intense, tribal, mechanic, tragic. That’s what Sophie heard as she listened to the composition being played in the art studio. After her professor turned on the music, she instructed the students try to express what they were hearing onto the canvas. To be aware of what feelings the music evoked, and then to paint. The parameters — select only one color, augment with black and white if needed, and simply paint for the duration of the class period. And so, Sophie, seated amongst her fellow classmates in a classroom in Paris, listened to the music that for her evoked feelings of suffering, struggle and then finally persistence and perseverance.
When she completed the painting, she hung it up to dry in the studio. Her professor complimented her piece and suggested she research Van Gogh’s ‘Shoes’ and ‘Boots’ artwork produced during his Paris period. Sophie took a photo of her painting, then texted the image to me back in southern California, along with a photo of the ceiling of the Paris Opera House where she and her friends were the day before.
“Mom, this morning I painted this in class:)”
“They’re both beautiful!” I texted back. “Both your shoes and the ceiling!”
I loved it the minute I saw it. I did a little research on Van Gogh’s ‘Shoes’ myself.
I put the photo of her artwork into my “favorites” photo album on my phone. I pulled it up whenever I needed to think. I thought a lot about those shoes, what they represent and what they mean to me. I’ve wondered why I was so moved by them the day she sent the image.
While she was still in Paris, a few weeks after we chatted about her artwork and the class, I went to see the newly released Taika Waititi film Jojo Rabbit. As I watched the film, I couldn’t help but notice an obvious star of the show …shoes. They play an overarching symbolic role throughout, from Jojo’s mother’s shoes to Hitler’s boots, and in a final scene as the young Jojo laces the red leather shoes of his friend Elsa. Just before the credits rolled, a quote by Rainer Maria Rilke came on the screen: “Let everything happen to you: Beauty and Terror. Just keep going. No feeling is final.” I thought again of Sophie’s painting.
Beauty and terror. No feeling is final. A stubbed toe, a French kiss with a crush, a paper cut, holding hands with a child, sinking your teeth into a freshly baked chocolate chip cookie. Being pulled over by a police officer. A daughter swirling in her yellow prom dress. A boyfriend’s marriage proposal. The night before the first day of school. The image of planes flying into the World Trade Center. The drum section of the marching band passing by in the parade. The late night phone call with news of a fatal heart attack. A 20-foot putt headed straight to the hole. Waiting for the biopsy report. College acceptances. College rejections. Receiving the biopsy report. A best friend moving away. No feeling is final. Just keep going.
After returning home from Paris, Sophie went back to her college campus in northern California. Her painting sat in her portfolio for over a year. Some days I’d go into her room and pull it out to look at it. Just as 2021 began, at the end of the holiday season, she decided to frame it. She trimmed the edges and tucked it into an unused frame that had been laying around.
“You’re finally framing it,” I said as I helped her unlatch the back of the frame and wipe the glass before she laid it carefully inside.
“Yeah, I wanted to hang it up before I left.”
“Really? You’re going to hang it in your room?” I asked.
“Yeah”
“Umm, would you mind if we kept it downstairs, at least for a little bit, since you’re not going to be here anyway?”
“No, I guess. I mean if you want to . . .” she smiled.
She let me put it downstairs in the alcove, leaning it up against the wall. It’s propped up just above the drawer where we keep the dog leash. Right where I lace up my own shoes before heading out the front door.
Five days after her painting was placed in our main hallway, I turned on the tv and watched in horror as our United States’ Capitol fell under attack by a rabid mob of Trump supporters. Elected members of the U.S. Senate and House of Representatives and their staff were hurriedly sequestered into hallways and then bunkered down into hidden away offices. I imagine they must have been terrified. I was terrified just watching it from the comfort of my home on the other coast of the country. Yet the Members of the House and the Senate ultimately reconvened and rightly certified the 2020 presidential election results. Persistence and perseverance. Just keep going. No feeling is final.
My mom used to say to me, “this too shall pass.”
My mother-in-law would say, “you’re going to win some, you’re going to lose some.”
I say, “Keep on keeping on.”
Joe Biden and Kamala Harris were sworn in as President and Vice President of the United States of America this morning. Biden said in his address to the nation, “Here we stand, where 108 years ago, at another inaugural, thousands of protesters tried to block brave women marching for the right to vote. And today we marked the swearing in of the first woman in American history elected to national office: Vice President Kamala Harris. Don’t tell me things can’t change.” Youth poet laureate Amanda Gorman recited her stunning poem “The Hill We Climb” to conclude the inauguration. Persistence and perseverance. Indeed, there are many hills still to climb. I wonder if Kamala had her Chuck Taylors nearby. I like to think so. Keep on keeping on.
