Spiritual Implications from Bob Ross

February 19, 2008 - Tuesday
Current mood: artistic

I can't wait for spring. Winter has turned me into a TV junkie and...well....a lazy bum. When the weather finally climbs to 50 degrees or so, I will be ready to go outside and run with my arms in the air, screaming as loud as I can for the freedom brought by warmer weather. Of course, I don't run....and I don't remember ever screaming like that. But you know, this is figurative.

During my winter imprisonment, I often find myself flipping the channels, and for some unknown reason, I always stop on the Public Broadcasting Channel called simply "Create". This channel has many different shows ranging in topic from scrapbooking to quilting to making an entire Winter Wonderland themed party kit out of recycled chewing gum, toothpicks, and glitter. My normal routine is to stop on this station, watch for about 2 minutes or so, and then carry on with my channel flipping. One show, however, always captivates my attention for longer...The Joy of Painting with Bob Ross.

Bob Ross is my friend Kim's future late uncle-in-law. We all know Bob's mellow narration and penchant for happy trees. His calm demeanor and soothing voice have occasionally lulled me to sleep. However, when I have managed to stay awake, I have always encountered a slight problem.

I don't trust Bob.

I have seen his work before. I know that all of his paintings turn out great. I have never seen one I didn't like. Granted, they are not particularly the style I with which I would choose to decorate my home, but I can appreciate a work of art when I see one. Give him 25 minutes and Bob can transform a plain canvas into a majestic mountainscape, or a snowy winter scene. He has never failed in his work, and I have always stood amazed at the end of his show.

But every time I watch, I get worried. I think, "Oh, Bob, why did you put that big ugly streak of van dyke brown right down the middle of your painting?" or "Yeah, he's painting all that gray around the edges; it's going to look ugly now." or "How could he ruin all that beautiful water by adding those highlights?"

Now, I know nothing of painting. I've made a few modest attempts, but they have all turned out looking like, well...looking like I painted them.

Somehow, I still feel like I can criticize and scrutinize Bob Ross's paintings, while he is in the process of creating them. I think I can somehow know that Bob is going to ruin his beautiful work by adding this tree here or that highlight there.

But in the end, Bob's paintings always turn out looking spectacular and perfect, and I turn the channel with a renewed faith in Bob and his ability to see beyond my scope of knowledge.

Doesn't this sort of parallel our own lives?

Think of it this way, our lives are the canvas; God is Bob Ross; and we are...us.

How often do we watch our lives unfolding before us and wonder what in the world God is thinking? "God, how could you put that obstacle there, right in the middle of everything?" "Why would you choose to insert this thing into my life, when it was already looking so nice and perfect?" "Why did you smudge this section, I liked it the way it was?"

God has never failed us before. We have seen him create miracles and beauty and fix problems in the world and in the lives of others around us. Yet, in some strange way, we still think we know what's best...and we still think he needs our advice.

In the end, just like Bob Ross's paintings always turned out perfectly, we have to trust that God knows what he's doing with our lives. God is God, and we don't have the capacity to know where he's going next or what he's thinking. It may look like things in our life are getting ugly, or cluttered, or smudged. But we have to trust the Painter, for he has not created an ugly painting yet.

Argyle Pizza and My True Calling

December 18, 2007 - Tuesday
Current mood: electric

As Christmas is fast approaching, the presents are slowly piling themselves up under my tree.....and at the office.....and in my car. After coming to the realization that these gifts were beginning to take over my most frequented spots, I surmised it was most probably time to attend to the problem.

And I invited my lovely and beautiful friend Amanda over for a wrapping party.

Little did we know the hilarity and wonderment that would soon envelop our little soiree.

Upon Amanda's arrival, we promptly phoned in an order for pizza from our local gourmet (albeit overpriced) pizzeria, Monicals. We were told our pizza would be $538.60, and that it would arrive in 45 minutes to half an hour.

And so we proceeded to wrap. We wrapped our little hearts out. From sweaters to books to DVDs to shoes, we wrapped with every force inside of ourselves. We wrapped to our fullest potential.

And then our pizza came. As we jaunted down to the basement, the fragrance of melted cheese, green peppers and sausage permeated the air. I knew we were in for a treat. As I found my seat and prepared our food for the partaking, I helped myself to a breadstick. Yummy.
When I had devoured the breadstick, I decided that it was time to enjoy some of that fine pizza we had anticipated for such a long time. And as I removed the foil from the top of the pizza (you see, Monicals pizza does not come in the traditional cardboard box used by most other pizza outlets, but rather they delicately place their pizzas on a cardboard flat, strategically put a couple of the Barbie tables into the pizza, and then wrap the entire pie in foil. Once this is accomplished, they place the foiled pizza into a paper sleeve), I noticed that something looked strange on the pizza, but I couldn't quite place my finger on it.

Until I tried to grab my first slice. Someone had cut our pizza into diamond shapes, rendering the act of actually choosing one slice at a time a virtual impossibility. It looked like an argyle sweater.

Now, you may be wondering what could have possibly been so difficult about selecting a slice of pizza if it was cut diagonally. All I can say to you is: You try it. You're expecting to choose a square slice and everything is all melted together. When consuming any ordinary pizza, we don't typically assess where the slices have been made each time we reach for a piece. We normally just assume we will grasp somewhere close and that the pizza is sliced well enough to go with the flow.

Argyle pizza is very challenging to eat, but it tastes the same as any other pizza.

Incidentally, if anyone can tell me why thick crust pizza is sliced into triangular shapes while thin crust is normally cut into squares, they will receive 1,057 bonus points.

After we had done what we could with the argyle pizza, we adjourned to the couch to watch the season finale of NBC's The Biggest Loser. Amanda had not been particularly into this show, but I had watched it nearly every week this season, and I was eagerly anticipating seeing the final results.

I am certain that my readers all know the premise of The Biggest Loser. You try to lose the most weight and not get eliminated so you will win $250,000.00. For most, watching this show would inspire them to begin exercising more and eating less. When I watch this show, I am inspired to eat cookies.

But regardless, I love the show. I have a normal routine as I partake of this program every week. My mother and I guess the weights of the contestants on the show as they step onto the giant scale. Since my mother was not with me tonight, Amanda and I decided to continue the tradition. And as I began guessing, I shocked and amazed my dear friend by estimating the weight of the contestants within one pound....three times in a row!

I think I have discovered my true calling. I will become one of those carnies who guesses people's weight at the fair.

Granted, I was pretty far off base for the rest of the contestants I was guessing, but for that brief span of five minutes or so, I was in a zone.

Currently listening : Biggest Loser By Biggest Loser Release date: 20 March, 2007