Writing about the French Impressionist recently, an art critic remarked that Cezanne drew his "religion from his art."  In other words, as this critic saw it, in contrast to some people who formulate their art on the basis of their religion, Cezanne reversed the equation and instead formulated his religion on the basis of his art.  It's rather akin to a person who draws her religious inspiration from walking through a forest:  on the basis of her experience in the forest, she develops her religious perspective.  Yet Cezanne's art is something that, unlike a forest, he himself created.  Hence, as I am to understand the critic's argument, it is in the doing of his art, in the work of his creation, that Cezanne finds his religious moment.

     

    I find this idea particularly compelling when I consider the work of some artists with whom I am currently collaborating on an art/writing project.  As they do their art, these artists find themselves and, usually, a new facet of their spirituality.  It's not too far from existentialism's creed that what we do makes us who we are.  On the other hand, although I find various levels of validity in this perspective, I also note that, in the end, it makes us the end and beginning of our spirituality.  Yes, as human beings, we are inherently spiritual.  As I see it, however, it is our movements toward the spiritual that underscores that we are not alone in this vast cosmos.  If we are spiritual, there must be spiritual presence.  A presence that we did not make.

    Otherwise, we're just spinning our wheels.