Words by Scott Axtmann
I watch a lot of movies with my family. It’s what we do. It’s sort of our frequent ritual to find something on Netflix or iTunes that is meaningful to watch. Many nights we are left disappointed. Sometimes we are uplifted. And occasionally we are left undone.The Florida Project was just such one of those movies that left me deeply affected.
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When I was a teen I was obsessed with Pink Floyd. I went to several concerts and my favorite thing to do was get high and listen to The Dark Side of the Moon. Sometimes I would try to get up onto the top of floor of a parking garage or out in some open field so I could look out into the vast unknown while listening to these haunting harmonies as if I was standing on the edge of the earth gazing out.
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The above picture is a little painting I did a while back. I’m not an artist by trade but I do love art and love trying to make art, though I did fall away from it for many years. When I was a kid I was always drawing and because my teachers always pressured me to draw things that looked like something, I did realism. I was told that was real art but I loathed it.
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This is an old picture of me from the early 70’s apparently shooting a little girl. What is so sinister about the picture is that my friend seems to be smiling as he drags her along. I’m sure we were just playing innocently but it kind of bothers me that I even played like that.The very idea of a kid killing another kid is an unthinkable and horrible thing but this is exactly what happened recently in Florida as a young man opened fire in a high school.
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I’m writing this especially to the person who identifies deeply with the problem of shame. You can’t, of course, tell anybody about this problem because, well, that’s how shame usually works. You carry it alone. You’ve done things to people you don’t want anyone to know about. Maybe you’ve hurt people in ways so shameful you can’t even bear to admit it to a single soul. Or maybe your particular secret is so shameful that you have almost convinced yourself you never did the thing.
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The man they say preached the Gospel to more people than anyone else in all history died. Billy Graham was a burning and shining light for almost a century dying at 99 years of age. He was also hated.
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This illustration was done by one of my daughters who is now studying architecture at Rensselaer. She’s always had a love for buildings and space design and how they affect people. It’s interesting how some buildings draw you in and others push you away. Some make you feel comfortable and others make you feel coldly out of place.
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