The Beauty of a Short Post: Minerva’s Backwards Binoculars
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I rarely comment on socials. It seems there are so many words thrown about, I get lost in the roiling sea of it all. I stick to the shore. Truth be told, I tend to turn my back. Oh, happy day when I discovered Substack. Never have I seen a pool of such intelligent, thoughtful back-and-forths. As you know, if you are reading this, I have dove deep into this body of water - hook, line and sinker. Yet, my comment activity wains. Habit? Intimidation? Did I mention the whole “intelligent, thoughtful…?” I tossed the whatever-holds-me-back aside yesterday as a comment blooped out of my fingertips onto the keyboard. I had just read a lovely short post on the beauty of short posts by Substack writer, Abigail Thomas. It’s odd how one can write something one isn’t even aware of - until one reads their own words. Or is that just me? I have been thinking about my words ever since and they want to expand. But first, here is what I said in my comment:
I'm feeling deliciously vindicated. Last night a friend asked if I had ever thought about writing a book. I have been asked this question from time to time over the years. Unintentionally, I have lived a strange life that others seem interested in hearing about. Though I have journaled since 1972, I only stumbled upon the format of the "post" several years ago where I found a comfy outlet for my crave of writing. For me, I tell the forming, brief thought. And then I am done. I enjoy reading the same.
Book reading has always been tricky business for me. With dyslexia, it was always a love/hate relationship, to be sure. I loved the worlds I visited and the people I learned about; I still do. But the act of reading itself was arduous and guilt producing. (I thought I was stupid well into my 30s when I slowly discovered that I simply learned differently than my growing up years demanded). But that never stopped me from loving the story.
As I mentioned, I have found a happy-place in the shorter version of storytelling. It seems I’m interested in writing, until the thought is told. And then I’m out. It reminds me of one of my favorite painters, Minerva Teichert. She was infamous for painting only until the story was told. I love finding bits and pieces that seem to be missing from her works, apparently superfluous to what she wanted to say. No word salad here! She lived and painted in the very early 1900s and was a staunch Mormon woman. Most of her work depicts scenes from the Bible and Book of Mormon (Mormon scripture). Her and her husband were farmers living in Utah when doing so would have been harder than I can even imagine. Many of her paintings are quite large. Because she lived in a small farm house her paintings would take up an entire wall of her living room as she worked on them. In order to get perspective, and because she couldn’t back up far enough to do so, she would look at her work through binoculars turned backwards so she could see her work from “far away.” Ah, the ingenuity of it all!
Though I disengaged decades ago, I started this incarnation as a staunch Mormon woman. In the early 1990s I was a volunteer as a docent at what was then called, The Museum of Church History and Art. It’s still located across the street from the Mormon temple in Salt Lake City. This is where I discovered and fell in love with Minerva. I like to think of us on a first name basis. I hope she doesn’t mind.
I proudly display a copy of one of her paintings in my kitchen. It depicts my favorite bible story: Mary and Martha. Do you know it? It goes something like this. Sisters, Mary and Martha are working in the kitchen doing women’s work. Jesus comes in and starts talking to Mary who is very curious and wants to be taught by Jesus. Jesus is happy to do so and they have a spontaneous tutorial right there in the kitchen. Martha is fuming. She whines to Jesus that Mary should stop that nonsense and come and help her prepare the meal. Jesus gently chastises Martha and tells her that Mary “hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her.” Luke 10:38-42. Golly, what comfort that story would secretly give me as I constantly found myself doing “women’s work.”
I get such a kick that this precious kitchen story hangs in my kitchen. And if you look close, you will see pieces missing from the stool beneath Mary. You rock Minerva!
If you are interested in a psychic reading or a remote energy healing, you can schedule via 208-260-0033 or intuitiveexplorationswithsusan@gmail.com.
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Susan Fullmer is a writer, conscious channel, shamanic practitioner, psychic medium, energy healer, energy reader, teacher, mentor, group facilitator, nurse, and licensed massage therapist. She has been in private practice since 1990 with her business, Intuitive Explorations with Susan Fullmer.
She draws from decades of study and practice in the healing arts including 35 years of nursing (both medical and mental health) and massage therapy (with extensive study in energy medicine). Susan has a plethora of experience in group facilitation, public speaking, mentorship, and teaching classes and workshops. In 2019 she graduated from Boise State University with a Bachelor of Arts degree in Multidisciplinary Studies with certificates in Leadership and Human Relations, and Dispute Resolution.
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