Immersion

by Jonathan Lowery • September 16th, 2007

When I heard the rain the other morning, I had this insatiable urge to go stand out in the rain. So I did. Visibility was down to a couple hundred feet, the sky flattened out to meet the trees and the rain falling hard enough to hear distinct splashes a thousand times over..

This particular storm was actually the remains of a hurricane. Not the most pleasant storms at a given time, but their exhausted remains make for excellent downpours. There’s just something unique about these titanic sea breezes that sets them apart from anything else around.

Especially for storms like this. There are cute little showers that you pass within a few minutes. Then there are these things: storms that just feel big. The horizon-to-horizon gray clouds tell you that the ocean is coming, only this one learned how to fly.

It is moments like that, standing in the pouring, fresh and salty rain, that I discover that art fails in every way. I think of my own attempts, and I realize that standing in the middle of a rainstorm is far and away beyond my ability to capture. I smell the rain, I feel the warm breeze, I hear the thunder, I taste the water, and I see the clouds. I can take any of those senses and develop a performance out of it. I can recreate these things, but I cannot put someone within my skin at that moment so they can understand that exact experience.

It just serves as a reminder to me how limited art really is. There are stories that I can tell, emotions I can evoke, but nothing can compare to a true experience. At most, art can only serve to help reveal those moments.

It’s a humbling thought, but also an inspirational one. I like it.