I am not a big fan of modern art.  I've been to modern art museums; I've tried to appreciate it.  I've learned about various modern artists; I've tried to gain a better understanding of how they see the world.  Still, modern art strikes me as esoteric and obtuse.  Most of the time, I just feel stupid when I view it.  So, I have resisted the urging of others to see the installation called "Blackfoot Pathways: Sculpture in the Wild" in the woods outside Lincoln, Montana.

Oh, I had been present when the artists in residence began working on their sculptures many months ago; but I hadn't been back.  So one day, mostly out of guilt, my skeptical Self drove into the parking lot and picked up a brochure to guide me along the path.  The first thing I saw was a large iron squiggle standing among the trees.  Yep.  Right away, it confirmed all my preconceptions.

A half hour later, I had changed my mind.  Or, I should say, the art had changed me.  As I looked more closely at the squiggly iron sculpture, I began to notice some other sticks tied with twine.  Then, I saw some logs that seemed to be set just so.  Was the squiggle just part of something much larger?  Which was the real piece of art?  I began to explore.

And what about that scored piece of wood?  I had scoffed at it at first, but then I saw it was really a throne with steps.  I climbed it and looked through an arch to see a small city in the valley below.  An old smelter turned into a teepee.  A house turned into sky.  Random sticks became a portrait.  Nothing was as it first appeared to be.

As I turned each corner, the cynic in me became a child at play.  Deep in the forest, new questions came to mind.  "How is it that I can no longer see that three story object that once loomed so large?  What is the artist trying to say with all these newspapers stacked in hills and valleys?  What else does my skepticism keep me from seeing?  When do past experiences keep me from being surprised by God's Spirit?  How do my preconceived prejudices keep me from wonder?"

A venture that started in cynicism ended in prayer:  open the eyes of my heart, O God.