Ner Tamid, 15”x24” oil on primed paper, 2020
I remember most of the steps that saw this painting come to fruition. It was painted within same stretch of time as the previous piece but the idea for this one came first. I had been inspired by the foggy wintry scenes around us as well as soundtrack for “The Revenant” which was on heavy repeat in my studio. Thinking over the greys of our Texas winter and the imagery from the film got me thinking about my own frigid forest, and that’s when I caught a glimpse of the above scene.
I’m not sure if it’s from reading Tolkien or watching sci-if and fantasy films, but every time I walk through the woods I hope to come across some mysterious ruins or ancient artifact. This time, however, even in traipsing my mind’s forest, I found something more than I could have wished. Much like in the church scene from “The Revenant” where DiCaprio’s character was briefly reunited with the ghostly visage of his murdered son, what I beheld was a place where grief, deep desire, and a sense of purpose could abide. Hidden in the dense wintry woods I found the ruins of an old synagogue abandoned and overgrown since its apparent destruction save for the area around the bimah. And just above the ark…the ner tamid.
And it was that exact term, “ner tamid”, that spoke to me most clearly. It is a beautiful phrase to say, and is Hebrew for “eternal light”; it is also a small lamp with a living flame used in synagogues as a representation of the Menorah from the Temple. The light was a reminder of God’s eternal presence amid His people Israel. Most traditional churches have something similar near their altar as well, taking Yeshua (Jesus) as the Light of the World. A small, ever-burning lantern to represent His eternal presence. So too in my painting it is a tiny reminder of His presence amid all of the desolation and bitter cold. A brilliant appeal to draw near.
Indeed it seemed an overture to something more beautiful. This scene struck me as an invitation to build again, to refortify my studio practice and reinforce my creative endeavor. Remember, this was one of two pieces that came out of a personal challenge to get into the studio every day of February 2020, so once this image came to mind I began to feverishly scribble iterations of this scene in my sketchbook. After [more than] a few thumbnail sketches and value drawings, I had my composition. Deliberating over materials and processes to realize my vision was reinvigorating down to the marrow! I felt like an artist again. I felt like my efforts and my work had purpose.