Fine arts for poor people

So I decided to vent my frustration on a recent Artistic expedition. On Saturday we tried to go to the Ballet, Romeo and Juliet. We went to purchase tickets and came to find that it was $30 for relatively bad seating. To our dismay we could not offord this and had to leave. Now this bothered me for reasons that I know have nothing to do with the laws of Economics, so please dont label me an idiot. But it bothered me because I realized that due to the lack of finiances we were unable to go and see one of the great productions of the arts. I see this as a great injustice. We were art lovers going to partake in the appreciation of art and the feeding of our souls and we were turned away because of prices that we could not pay. What makes this even worse is that by the looks of the auditorium minutes before the start of the show it was obvious that it was not nearly close to being full.
How do we expect to have a renaissance of culture in our country if people like us cannot afford it? This is why I feel like Youtube should be allowed for purposes of education. Do you know how many incredible historical concerts are on there that we would have no access to? I am not saying that everything should be free, but there is a hindrance put onto people that are still trying to merely survive financially and the fine arts are once again given to the elite and the ones that can afford it. I just wish that we could make the fine arts the language of the people once again and part of that can come through making things affordable and accessible so that young professionals can enlighten themselves to the great classics of history. I am tired of having money stop people from that. I think it is an injustice.

Ode to a Peacock

There was a peacock who couldnt sleep
He tossed and turned and counted sheep
But he could not find his happy place
Or find rest to soothe his pretty face

Oh you peacock, your feathers are bright
They are large, colorful, silky and light
They scare the other animals of the wild
Parents take pictures to give to their child

Oh you peacock, how we admire when you strut
Such elegance and charm only gods could construct
Look kindly on those beneath your feathers
Don't hold to yourself all your earthly treasures

Oh you Peacock, like a wild bear
Reign in your domain with care
Don't forget your long scarfs to share
Don't our imperfection to your perfection compare

What is good art?

I had a very interesting conversation with some Belmont students this last week on Art. We were talking about how music is developing and what the difference is between being a someone who plays an instrument or sings and an artist. There is a difference. Just like there is a difference between things that are "created" and art. This raised the question is there such a thing as good art? Of course there are two problems that arise when we ask this question: first how do we define what is art, and second how do we define what is good?
Its difficult for me to really define what is art because it is something that is so subjective. We hear the stereotypical examples of modern and post-modern paintings where the paint was thrown or done with some kind of bizarre techniques. What do most of us say? I could have done that. Of course the illogical thing to that is that we didn't do it, but someone else thought of it. Another question that arises is must art have the intention of being art? If someone makes a chair is it art or simply someone making something? I think that there needs to be the intention of something being created to be art.
The hardest question is what is good in the context of this question? Of course this is something that is extremely subjective. But couldnt we all agree that Beethoven is good art? Rembrandt made good art? So maybe good art is only those that have stood the test of time. Making the Beetles, Elvis, U2 good art?
I would love to hear thoughts on this issue.

hopeless and wretched

I am amazed at how easily it is to mess up. It seems that i fall down all the time. Sure we get back up. Try again, but how many times does god forgive and give chances? Maybe we have to come to place where we dont like our sin so much that we feel hopeless and wretched. Of course that is the problem...hating our sin. Its easy to say it when we ask for forgiveness because we know that it is what we are supposed to say and acknowledge. I dont have true it actually is in my own heart. The problem is that i do hate it. I hate it because i know that it hurts the heart of god. I know that i "feel" guilt. And as Spurgeon said, "nothing torments a man's soul like a convicted conscience." But then why do i go back? As human beings our brains are designed to avoid those things that dont feel good. Most sin doesnt even feel good in the act. Of course there is some desire there otherwise it would not be attractive. But if i know that it hurts god, i know that it torments my soul, and i know that i will not enjoy it, why do I run without question, and without hesitation? I long to be free. Free from myself. Maybe thats not a good desire, obviously putting blame on oneself must be in the right attitude, otherwise it is merely feeling sorry for oneself or self-mutilation. I want neither of those. I simply want to be free from the addiction of sin. Yes addiction because it is the only word to describe the tendency of going back again and again to the same place looking for something. I want god to find pleasure in me, to let his holy presence dwell with me. How i long to be able to have intimacy with him. I have come to understand that i am hopeless and wretched. left to myself I am simply a guide and leader to my own destruction. With my strength i am not able to fight the slightest desires. I implore the giver of hope, and the leader of the hopeless to give the strength of self-control, and the grace to be free.

You must have a name

There’s a social place with many people
Laughter can be heard all around
A couple whispers loving secrets
Books and words greatly abound

You sit alone and lonely you are
You must have a story; you must have a name
Every face itself has seen in a thousand mirrors
Every eye has cried tears of pain

This morning the world wakes up
Your existence unknown and unsought
Tonight every eye will shuts in wandering dreams
You say a little prayer wishing it to be eternity

Sitting there in your chair I see your thoughts:
Will no one come speak to me you ask?
Is there no one who cares to hold my hand?
Does no one notice I don’t smile anymore?

I don’t know if tonight will let you live one more day
I don’t know honestly if I would notice if you died
I don’t know if any tears would be shed for your loss
But I do know that I saw you sitting there, and I won’t forget