Creation and Destruction

“All things change. Nothing is permanent.” --Buddha

My husband and I were definitely the outliers in the room. The vast majority of our company was old enough to be our parents if not our grandparents. It was a sea of gray hair. We probably should have expected it, considering we were a.) at the viewing of a documentary b.) at the art museum c.) there on a Friday night. Although we already admitted that we are nerds, this definitely cemented it. Every day just confirms how well suited the hubby and I are. Not only did he willingly go to an art documentary on a Friday night, he wanted to go when I mentioned it. And then we both LOVED it.

Of course, this particular documentary would probably be fascinating to anyone who is interested in culture and current events. If you can, find a copy of “The Giant Buddhas” (2005) directed by Christian Frei. You can also find out more about the movie at www.giant-buddhas.com. It basically tells the story of the destruction of two 1,500-year-old Buddhist statues carved into the cliffs of the Bamiyan Valley in Afghanistan. In March 2001, the Taliban blew them up essentially in retaliation for the sanctions the world established against them (from what I understand).

The film was quiet with haunting melodies floating over the images of the Afghani desert or following the footsteps of a seventh-century Chinese monk. A melancholy tone permeated every shot. While it focuses one specific event, that event cannot be isolated from the context of war and poverty. I mention this to emphasize that the loss of human life is the greater tragedy, not the loss of physical things. However, we are very closely tied to the physical world through our bodies, minds, and spirits. People live in space and time where everything shifts, moves, grows, decays, alters. Our bodies become one with the landscape as we take in food and air, incorporating it into our cells, and then returning it all when we die. Natural change, decay, disintegration is not destruction, however. In fact, this is my current artistic subject. What can seem like demolition or ruin can in fact be beautiful, and often is involved in a process of revelation or even a new, different creation.

The now-destroyed Buddhas were incredible. They produced a sublime awe even without the mask and gemstone eyes that shone over the valley many centuries past. The statues were not pristine, but rather told the story of the years that had come and gone. Erosion worked slowly but unceasingly on the rock. Eventually, they would have gone the way of everything else. The Taliban changed this. Watching the video of their (inept) explosions made me nauseous. Stupid, wanton, selfish destruction.

As an artist, I find a certain amount of joy and pleasure in pure creation. I truly think that creation is one of the ultimate goals of life. Physical production is not the only meaning of ‘creation,’ although one of the more obvious ones. As the Taliban took dynamite to the Buddhas, they destroyed not only tangible objects but also relationships, identities. I’m sure these demolishers did not gain any true joy or happiness out of their act.

I’m not sure exactly what is happening now with regards to the site. Some wanted to rebuild the Buddhas, while others have suggested laser projections in the now-empty niches. I think I prefer the later option. Whatever happens, I hope that the people are able to rebuild their lives and their country.

And with that, I should get back to my own creative endeavors.