For those that know me, possibly even a little, it will come as little or no surprise that I am a fan of the writings of John Steinbeck. His perfect blend of excellence of craft, keen eye and sharp wit, and a revolutionary spirit define to me what a wonderful artist can and, even more importantly, should be. So it is with my apologies to Mr. Steinbeck that I am going to lift a tiny bit of imagery of his to use in this much paler version of writing.

…like captured fireflies.

Imagine a summer evening and a child with a captured firefly in the palm of his hand. Steinbeck likens this image to his own school days when, with their curiosity aroused by a particularly inspiring teacher, he and his fellow students would bring to class “facts or truths shielded in our hands like captured fireflies.” It makes one think of the magical awe we found within ourselves as children when we were face to face with something so implausible. I mean, how did those little suckers glow? How does a tiny bug create its own light? And it does this to attract a mate? It seemed so wonderfully irrational, and for that it was that much more beautiful.

Now, for sure somebody who reads this will know, in terms scientific and rational, exactly how that winged twinkle light creates its luminescence. And, for sure their knowledge will be true and based in fact – but to the good artist (and to the kid in all of us), is that knowledge really necessary? That rational truth definitely exists, but isn’t it much more beautiful, much more magical, much more uplifting to the soul as just that little bug that glows for love? There is undeniable truth in that as well, my friend.

You see, I think there are two basic types of knowledge: the rational and the irrational. The rational is a wonderful thing: it gave us the Enlightenment and the scientific method, which in turn gave us everything from walking on the moon to microwaveable Hot Pockets. This has been a good thing for us and has propelled us forward as a species (okay, maybe not Hot Pockets, but you get my drift). But that irrational truth, man that’s the propellant – that’s the gas! The rationality of science can claim the victory of putting us on the moon, but it was the irrational dreamer that wanted to go there in the first place – and now that we have, aren’t both true? Isn’t there truth in both the getting there and the dream? Sadly, I think many today will say no. They will say the science is the truth, and they’ll try to relegate that irrational dream to some other romantically nostalgic yet less “truthful” place. See, I think that is part of our modern malaise: we have become so one-sided in our dependence on the rational to give us the only truths, that for many we have lost the magical, irrational truths that give life all its juice.

It is those little nuggets of wisdom that I search for, and ultimately attempt to illustrate in my art. Those little beans of irrational truth, that once given the nourishment of a focused attention, can yield a crop of intelligence that feeds what the rational usually does not: the heart and the soul – the humane in the human. I have found that all of these truths have as their foundation a love that is at once both individual and universal, and as a result that has become the main thrust of all my work. In everything I make, I am trying to illustrate a love that is transcendent of the mind, a love that has its home in the bosom of each of us individually, in humanity as a whole, and in the universe in its entirety. A love that, in all its implausible magic, filled with truths and facts that made the moon attainable well before the advent of rocket science, is like a handful of captured fireflies.

I do this with the understanding that this irrational knowledge, paired with all the wonders our rational minds have discovered, is our best hope in moving forward, in continuing the marvelous possibilities of this “human condition”. With our minds we may be able to define the roots of our modern malaise, but it is with our hearts and souls – communicated through the very best of the arts - that we will find the solutions to that which ails us.

You can say (as many have!) that I am just a pie-eyed optimist, a fool on the hill that believes that love and art can change us and the world – heck, you may even say that nothing can be done about the drudgery, turmoil, and angst of our day to day lives – but to finish with another quote by that revolutionary optimist Mr. Steinbeck, when posed with the same dilemma, “Maybe nothing can be done about it, but I am stupid enough and naively hopeful enough to want to try. How about you?”

To contact me: jshipman@umd.edu or through my flickr mail.

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