Keyword: vision

  • Big & Grand

    “Big & Grand” by Jason & Ginny Kotecki. 24 x 24. Oil on canvas.
    Original is SOLD 🔴 Shop this art!

    Everything that exists first started as an idea. A vision. A dream.

    The question is, How many people have to see it before it becomes reality?

    On a family trip west, we spent time in the foothills of the Grand Tetons hoping to see moose. We didn’t have any luck, but while we were waiting, I snapped a photo of my youngest daughter sitting at the edge of the pond, tossing pebbles into the water. I thought it might be the start of a great painting. The only question in my mind was, “What might she be looking at?”

    I imagined painting a moose into the scene, maybe a huge one. I thought Bigfoot would be funny, or perhaps a montage of all sorts of fictional creatures: leprechauns, fairies, unicorns, oh my!

    Eventually, the solution became obvious: it needed to be Big.

    You see, “Big” is a character Ginny created when she was younger, and he’s made appearances in many of her artworks over the years. He needed to be what she was looking at, and that’s how this painting became my first official collaboration.

    Ginny drew and painted Big, and I handled the rest of the painting, including his reflection in the pond. It was a blast, and my heart just about exploded when she signed her name in the corner. (Rose is her middle name.)

    I love the origin story of Big. According to Ginny, he is a lovable giant who lives in the clouds and comes down occasionally to give people hugs.

    One thing we can all agree on is that the world could definitely use more hugs.

    I wish that Big were real.

    Part of me wonders if he is.

    How many people have to see it before it becomes reality?

    You have to imagine something before it can become a physical reality, whether it’s the main character of a book or a life-saving cancer drug. Our dreams are often born from a problem that needs to be solved, like a personal need or a nagging challenge you regularly encounter. Maybe it’s a larger one the world around you is groaning for.

    I believe your dreams are planted within you by God. And He wouldn’t have planted them within you if you weren’t the right person to help bring them to fruition.

    These dreams start as a faint vision or a passing thought, before slowly coming into focus, eventually becoming clear in your mind’s eye.

    There comes a point when you need some affirmation that you’re not hallucinating, that there really is something to this vision that has stirred up a fiery passion within you. Then comes the big and scary moment: You summon up courage and float the idea past a few others, just to check if they can see it too. 

    Usually, the reactions are mixed.

    Many won’t see the vision at all. They may even try to argue you out of it, saying it’s not realistic or practical.

    Some will nod and smile, offering words of encouragement, but it feels more like a grandparent whose grandchild just told them about their imaginary friend: “What an active imagination you have!”

    But if the dream has merit, you will encounter some true believers. These folks must be taken seriously because you will need them later.

    When I had the vision to take an unconventional path, to make a living with my art while making the world a little better by making its people a little more childlike, I experienced all of these reactions.

    I encountered many who never saw the vision of what we were trying to build, even though I described it as accurately as I could. They included newspaper syndicates, retailers, publishers, licensing agents, and more.

    I also felt the “pat, pat” on my head from those who viewed me as slightly delusional, but relatively harmless and easily redirected once reality hit.

    But I was also graced with a few true believers who saw the vision. Some notable ones included my parents, Kim’s parents, and our best friends, Sue and Jenna. Theirs were not just empty words of encouragement. They responded with action by sacrificing their time, money, and prayers. This signaled the proof of their belief.

    The certainty from true believers is invaluable. There will come a time when you lose faith in the vision, and you will need them to remind you that it’s real.

    Mounting failures and things taking longer than you expected take a toll. That vision, which once seemed so clear, begins to fade. You wonder if all the naysayers were right. After all, so many of them had way more experience than you, and the evidence seems to be piling up in their favor. Maybe I am delusional? Maybe I was mistaken? Maybe the signals got crossed, and I accidentally co-opted a dream that was not meant for me…

    I entertained all these thoughts at various times. It was tempting to give up.

    But then I remembered my parents. And Kim’s parents. And Sue and Jenna. I remembered that nobody pours money or time into a lost cause. Their sacrifice was tangible proof of their belief in us. It helped assure me that no, this is not a mirage. It’s real. They see it.

    Their belief bolstered my own.

    It’s easy to feel discouraged and lose hope when people don’t see what you see. Or when it’s taking too long. It might even show up in a time and place you weren’t expecting. The dream might feel long in coming, but it won’t be late. 

    Disregard the people standing in your way.

    Don’t worry about the ones who say, “I just don’t see it.”

    That’s ok. Not everyone will catch your vision.

    That doesn’t mean it’s not real.

    Your idea might just be the hug our world’s been waiting for.
  • One Way To Look At It

    “One Way To Look At It” by Jason Kotecki. 6 x 6. Oil on canvas.
    Original is SOLD 🔴 Shop this art!

    One day Kim wrote a social media post about how ugly our backyard is after having been ravaged by a cataclysmic storm. The harsh, violent, apocalyptic hellscape is heartbreaking.

    And very, very ugly. 

    A well-intentioned commenter felt the need to correct her, “No, it’s beautiful.”

    Of course, the commenter is right. It is beautiful, in many real and metaphorical ways. And the photos Kim has taken of the carnage have captured some of that beauty.

    But you know what? It’s also ugly. Especially in comparison to what it was before.

    It can be both. It is both. And that’s ok.

    As I pointed out in my book, A Chance of Awesome, some people look at dandelions and see weeds. 

    Others – mostly kids – see wishes.

    The thing is, both are true. 

    Or take cars. Automobiles are modern marvels that give us great freedom and save us enormous amounts of time. The industry employs nearly two million people. But about 40,000 people die in motor vehicle traffic crashes each year in the U.S.

    So are cars good or bad?

    Unfortunately, our rotten news media has conditioned us to operate without any nuance whatsoever because there is profit to be made in conflict. We no longer seem to have the capacity for critical thinking; we’ve been reduced to the infantile reflex that things are either “good” or “bad.” Every issue is presented as either black or white, red state or blue state, right or wrong, good or evil.

    Ugly or beautiful.

    When it comes to any story – especially the headline-grabbing issues of the day – we’ve been duped into believing we only have two options: be right or be wrong.  

    But life is more complicated than that. Life is both / and.

    When your kid heads off to college for the first time, it’s natural to feel a sense of pride as they move into a new season of growth and independence. It’s also natural to feel sad that your day-to-day interactions with them are coming to an end. 

    Or when a loved one you have taken care of for years has passed away, you probably feel sad that they are gone. It can also feel nice to believe that they are in a better place. 

    But you can also feel relieved that your burden has been lifted. 

    That doesn’t make you a monster; it makes you human. 

    We live in a complicated world with unlimited shades of grey. (Yes, even more than fifty.) It’s not helpful to force everything into an absolute. We don’t have to walk around wearing rose-colored glasses, deluding ourselves into thinking everything is unicorns and rainbows.

    Nor is it especially healthy to point out every potential storm cloud. 

    Both approaches are childish. 

    A mature perspective is acknowledging that life is filled with contradictions. There is good and evil, joy and pain, hope and fear intermingling in all of it. 

    We do have a choice about where we want our attention to dwell, which is one of our most overlooked and underused superpowers. But it’s important to remember that focusing on one doesn’t disappear the other. 

    Life is painful. It is also joyful. Sometimes on the very same day. 

    And that’s ok.

    Acknowledging the ugliness is what keeps us from taking beauty for granted.