Words, words, words. That's what we're made of. Herewith some of my thoughts on what we're doing with them.

I know we're talking about writing, but I tend to think outside the box. Okay, quiet in the back: way outside. I can never quite bring myself to separate creative categories. If you mention a novel, I won't just think about novels, but of scriptwriting and storytelling. Want to talk about dance? I'm interested in the story it tells, the textures it makes. . . well, let's be charitable and call it a holistic approach. There are at least two or three of you who will know what I mean right away. The rest may take some convincing.

With that in mind, I'd like you to consider the following sculpture just for a moment.

'My Sweet Lord', the chocolate Jesus

The specs:

• Artist's name: Cosimo Cavallaro.
• The figure is 6' (about 2 meters) tall and weighs more than 200 pounds.
• It is anatomically correct.
• It is made of milk chocolate.
• It was banned from a New York City shop window installation in 2007, because people were outraged.

Man cannot live on bread alone, but if he were to consume Cosimo Cavallaro's newest creation he could live off of Jesus – for approximately eight months.   –   Esquire, Chocolate Jesus.

Now, I'm not ready to debate whether you should stick an anatomically-correct chocolate crucifix in a shop window in a city full of Catholics. That's a question for somebody other than writers. What I'd like you to think about is your own reaction to the work itself.

Possible questions:

• Did you dismiss this project out of hand because it was offensive?
• Did you dismiss it out of hand because it didn't match your personal standards of what constitutes 'art'?
• Did you want to find out more about the artist's other projects, to see if there was a theme here?

…but is this art really food for thought...or just a publicity stunt passing as art?  –   Esquire, Chocolate Jesus.

Cosimo Cavallaro works with food. A lot. He's done an installation involving slicing ham and throwing it onto a bed. He used a deli meat slicer, if you want to know. He's covered furniture, a house, and former supermodel Twiggy with spray cheese. In his non-food-related work, he did a performance piece in which he set a piano on fire at sunset.

Look at the chocolate sculpture again. Ask yourself:

• Is there a connection between 'sweetness' and religious iconography?
• Do the feelings modern people have about milk chocolate have anything to do with their ideas about God?
• Does this sculpture point to a consumerist view of religion? Did you involuntarily think of the Easter Bunny?
• Do you see this sculpture as a comment on the Eucharist?
• If you are shocked at the anatomical detail of the sculpture, why are you shocked? How would you react differently if the figure were clothed?

You could think of other questions. Maybe you'll share them with us.

Either/Or, or Both/And?

We're all ignorant, only on different subjects.   – Mark Twain.

Robbie Stamp always says a cool thing: 'Its not either/or. It's both/and.' I like that so much I want to comment on it here.

You don't have to venture into performance art to find variety in taste and expression. Here at h2g2, we're an international website with members of all ages and interests. Every time you look at the Peer Review list, you start thinking, 'Yep, cool, yep, yep, WHAT?' And so on. I'm delighted that Florida Sailor's telling about the Mason-Dixon Line. But I know where it is. In fact, I've slept there. (In a motel, silly.) You might have to ask yourself, 'Do I want to learn about this?'

On the other hand, In the Night Garden is an alien concept to me. I have to learn about it. This doesn't make either topic inappropriate for our consideration. It means we have to expand our horizons.

The most intelligent person I ever knew taught me this: there is a difference between ignorance and stupidity. Ignorance, she told me, is not knowing something. Stupidity is not wanting to know.

So let's be ignorant together. Let's ask, and question, and learn. Let us not dismiss someone else's humour, or insight, or experience, or artistic approach, until we've tried it out. Of course we're going to have opinions, even after we learn. I might not like these British TV shows, you might not find the story of the Delaware/Maryland feud edifying. But at least we know. We've broadened our horizons.

Our own exploration will be enriched by what we learn. Our writing will get better. We'll make new friends along the way, just by believing that it's 'both/and'.

It's worth it, even if you don't like chocolate sculpture.

Writing Right with Dmitri Archive

Dmitri Gheorgheni

15.04.13 Front Page

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