When I was 10 years-old, my parents took me and my big sister on a cruise to Alaska. It was the most unforgettable excursion of my life, filled with magnificent ice sculptures, eccentric folk-singers, peculiar toga parties, immense glaciers and wildlife that transported me right into the pages of my beloved National Geographic magazines. And salmon, salmon every single way you could possibly eat it.
Back in those days, the Bald Eagle was on the endangered species list, and I learned before my trip that Alaska had the highest population of this rare bird at the time. As our big ship sailed from Saskatchewan, Canada to our first stop, Ketchikan, Alaska, I remember praying to God that He might bless me to see a soaring bald eagle before they were never ever to be seen again forever! My heart swelled with hope that this just might be my one and only chance to see this great creation commanding the sky and mountains’ majesty. We sailed from Ketchikan, to Juneau, to Skagway. I saw penguins, I saw salmon on their way to their slaughter, I saw quaint little towns, and glaciers that made me feel we had somehow sailed to the polar ice caps of Mars. But as I watched the skies diligently, I never saw one bald eagle.
Looking back on this mostly glorious memory, I now see the lesson that was stored away for me in the experience. The magnificence of the bald eagle for me at that time lay mostly in the fact that I may never get the chance to see it again. Our culture is so lured by rarity — precious stones, limited-time offers, exceptional talent, endangered species. We are obsessed with taking pictures and videos to capture one-of-a-kind moments. If only we could remember that each of us is a rarity, a one-of-a-kind moment, a unique God-carved, and God-breathed creation, and that each precious person is on their way to extinction. That would make us want to sign our own Endangered Species Acts, wouldn’t it? Committing to value and protect each other from harm. Serve and care for one another. Forgive.
I want to make and share art that reminds us to do just that. To hold at least more wonder and hope in our hearts for when we see each other, than we might hold if we were bird-watching for bald eagles, (or whale-watching for humpbacks—which I also love, and have yet to see).
Thank you for visiting!