Complete?
All-encompassing?
Uh…
(I’d already have to use a thesaurus to get beyond those two)

Moving right along…

What in the world does it mean to be an artist? Attempting to answering this question has definitely been the most taxing process I’ve ever had to deal with over the past 10 or so years.

“Am I an graphic designer? A writer? A photographer? Or a painter?”

These thoughts have always echoed through my head and rightly so consider the fact that I seem to change artistic directions every six months.

Bipolar? (perhaps)
Indecisive? (I hope not!)
Or maybe it just means I’m a college student? (always an easy out)

After several years of feeling around for answers I think I’ve finally found a few and wouldn’t mind sharing them with you.

1. Probably the most obvious answer but still worth stating: it’s not an “either/or” situation. Being an artist can cross from one medium to the next. Someone might have more success in one field over  another but the idea of creativity being limited to just one specific area is rather absurd.
2. From that freedom comes the ability to gather inspiration from many different sources, not just the one I’m working. Again, this doesn’t seem like anything groundbreaking but somehow you lose the forest for the trees when you’re walking on your little trail with your head down. I’ve finally had a chance to lift my head up, gather my barrings and see this grand forest I’m in (but the trees are really nice too).
3. There are many different forms of communication and every medium of art has the ability to convey truth in a unique and powerful way. There’s no need to settle for just one type. Instead, use the one best suited for the task at hand. I think I’ve limited myself by being  fearful of the title “Jack of all trades, master of none.” I didn’t want to stretch myself out over too many different skills and trades for fear that I might not excel at one of them. I need to make money somewhere, don’t I!? But my new school of thought is that every distinct trade is a new arena I can grow and hone my creativity in. Nothing has been withheld from me, the world is my playground (artistically speaking).
4. Another big revelation is that I need to maintain and guard my own artistic integrity. For me that looks like staying true to what I know and feel about any given piece. I think the hard part about this is realizing that this means I may have to walk away from certain opportunities, as tempting as they may be, because ultimately they’ll drain me of my creative spirit and passion. Art is sort of my lifeblood, both my outlet and my source of renewal. If I don’t protect it and keep is sacred then it’ll become tainted by the daily grind of life and work. Again, I realize that’s a very dangerous thing to say. I feel like I have opportunity to share my gifts of creativity but that can ever-so-quickly become exploited into just another money-driven pursuit.
5. I may be a full blown extrovert by nature but I’ve found creating and expressing art requires my most introverted self. I think I more or less discovered this in my last college art class. I would sit around and talk to everyone for the first hour or so of class until, eventually, everyone either left of officially tuned me out with their headphones. At that point I was able to be mentally alone and focus in on the task at head, my artwork. The same principle rings true for almost any artistic task I try to tackle. Being here in the ridiculously communal atmosphere of YWAM has definitely confirmed my original hunch. It’s near impossible for me to get away and be alone with my thoughts. Unfortunately, this lack of personal alone time has led to my lack of desire to blog or take photographs. The best tool to combat this issue has been my own headphones and music to drown out all the distractions and noise.

I think I’ll have to stop at this place for now but even now I’m only just beginning to realize that’s there’s so much more to this whole “art” thing for me. It’s not just another casual pass time or hobby. It’s really at the core of who I am. I enjoy it more than anything else (I might have to make an exception for horchata and Mexican food though)! And this isn’t something I talk about lightly. I still have to figure out what career path I am willing to walk down.

Do I get a degree in marketing? Communication? Teaching? Art?

Nothing’s for certain at this point. But one thing I do know, there’s always going to be beautiful art in my future.

So considering this blog Part I of a larger discussion/explanation of my love affair with creativity and art and how that might play out over my life.

Yeah, I think I’ve heard that one too many times here in Panama only to have it become completely false in the following 24 hours. Next time you hear someone say, “Oh, that’ll never happen” I would caution you to expect the worse. But not just because I’m known for pessimism, rather because the inevitable following statement will be, “Huh, that’s so weird. It’s usually never like this!”

Oh, you don’t say?

For starters, the very first day we were here I asked the locals about stormy weather since there had been some random precipitation since we got there and they replied that it’s almost never anything too intense, it usually just blows over. So you can imagine my surprise that first Sunday afternoon, shortly after church had just finished, when there came a thunderstorm so fierce you could hear trees toppling down the street. The main doors of the church even flew open and knocked over the plate of food I was holding in the kitchen. I’m still not sure if I was more angry or more excited? I think my favorite part is when, out of nowhere, you hear the loudest snap of thunder even if it’s not raining anywhere near you. Like this one time just last week when it set off a few car alarms in the parking lot. Now that’s hardcore!

Later that Sunday night we heard reports that the local tribes, who were right down the river from us, had been severely thrashed by the storm. It turns out a couple of their structures were completely destroyed and one man was even trapped under his collapsed roof for most of the night but remained unharmed. Honestly, it was a huge miracle that no one was injured and, more so,  the structures that fell down were actually already in the process of being replaced with new ones anyway.

So our team of photographers had there very first impromptu assignment:
clear the rubble!

We had to walk about half an hour up the river to a place where they cross on these ever-so-shaky boats. I guess we can chalk that one up to our lack of experience in little river boats or maybe just the fact that we over packed every one of them with our large group. Anyways, once we got there we went right to work on dismantling the remnants of the fallen structures which really only consisted of a pile of palm tree roof shingles/branches. The main goal was to move the huge existing pile down the hill a bit to another huge pile. Sounds pretty simple, right? Yeah, that’s what we thought. So to make it more interesting there were also cockroaches, killer bees, scorpions and spiders thrown in the mix. Mind you, no one actually had any gloves!

King of the trash heap!

Just when we were entering the final stretch of cleaning, we were approached by a group of men from the tribe that “needed 8 strong men.” Too bad men have always been the one thing in short supply in our group. So to compensate we sent me, Jason, and 10 or so women (that equals out, right?). . So we’re told that we’re going on just a little hike up the river to… move a rock? Yeah. Apparently a boulder had rolled on to the local water supply pipe, which sits in the river, during the height of the storm the night before. So we start trekking towards the rock (My favorite part about this story is that there’s  never any clear understanding of what we’re being called to do until it’s right in front of us). 20 minutes in we’re all thirsty seeings how it’s the hot/humid jungle and we’re not exactly acclimated to the new climate yet (or ever). Too bad not one single one of us brought out water bottles because we were told it was just a few minutes walk away. Honestly, the mental picture I had painted was, “oh, it’s just on the over side of the village, kinda like walking down the street to next block, right?” Wrong! It’s another 20 minutes from where we’re at. But, again, that’d be too easy. So to take it a little more interesting we spent the rest of the hike hearing from the front, “don’t touch that plant, it’s poisonous.” Granted, that would be totally helpful… had I seen to which plant the guide was referring. Instead, what happened was domino-style communication of “something’s poisonous” from the front to the back and “what did he say?!” from the back to the front. Thoroughly enjoyable experience, wouldn’t trade it for the world.

I can’t tell you how excited I was when we realized we arrived at the big boulder and discovered it was wedged in the nice, refreshingly inviting river (ok, it was more of a stream at this point). I dutifully jumped in to help tackle the beast, but to no prevail. Rocks are heavy! Even ones that look little. The locals set to work on fashioning some large tree branches for prying it loose while some of the girls on our team tried to clear the surrounding rocks and rubble.

Me not moving a boulder...

Fast forward past our struggling and tinkering for half an hour to the part where we barely free the pipe but come nowhere near actually moving the boulder.

All the tribesmen thank us for our unsuccessful attempt and inform us that they will gather all of their men for a second attempt tomorrow (I can’t help but think there’s a bit of smack talk in their tone, lol). Overall, the day was worthwhile though. If nothing else, to let the surrounding communities know that the Church cares about them and is willing to send a bunch of white people to get their hands dirty for a day.

Oh, the second story involving the title phrase was in reference to the two earthquakes we had in the first few weeks. Our leader, Susi Childers, was flying to Panama a bit later than the rest of the group and was talking with the person on the plane next to her about her home in Hawaii. One of the things that came up was earthquakes and how Hawaii seems to have a decent amount of those. “Oh, we never get those in Panama,” the person responds. Guess what that means? Buckle up because you’re about to get some! Sure enough, only a day or two after Susi arrived in Panama there’s a 6.2 magnitude earthquake off the northeast coast. Apparently it was enough to wake the girls and freak them out. Us boys just kept on sleeping… so typical.

So yeah, I’m officially on the lookout next time anyone uses the phrase “Don’t worry, that usually never happens here.”

Reflection points:

• We’re so small and fragile in the scope of God’s creation, it’s amazing that we somehow manage to forget that
• Thunder/lightning: way cooler in Panama
• Earthquakes: overrated, so far…
• God’s timing is perfect (coincidental, if you will)
• He’s a protector and cares about all tribes and tongues and nations
• Panama’s humidity > Hawaii’s

Luckily, that’s where the internet comes in! I’ve already decided to use my own personal website, calelivingston.com, along with this blog as my headquarters for all my latest news updates. So look forward to new pictures, videos, reports, rants, and art. Also, it’ll be a great resource for those wanted to stay in touch will I’m away for the next nine months or more. It’s especially great for those who choose to support me since you’ll be able to see where the money is going and, hopefully, how much of an impact it’s making in the world. Yay for the world wide web!

Watch the video!