Rachmaninoff or Einstein?

I've always been relatively interested in the human brain.  The brain, as an object bears so much subjectivity surrounding it.  Has the worlds greatest genius been killed in their 20s, long before they were able to reach potential (or aborted, but that's for Elephants)?  Or was the genius of Rachmaninoff perhaps greater than that of Einstein? 


As I've studied the brain a little in my spare time I've become very interested in the brains function as it is a reflection of God's genius.  I love creativity, and the inborn creative nature of mankind.  Even the crayon drawings of young children far surpass the creativity of any other species.  Young children draw ties and make neurological connections that allow them to create, remember, and employ.  Dr. Charles Limb, who's religious affiliation is unknown to myself, posted a very interesting video on TED.com


I wrote a paper for my High School Human Anatomy and Physiology Class on the motor detriment of damage to the occipital lobe compared to the parietal lobe.  If a person loses their ability to see how is this better or worse for their ability to autonomously navigate life compared to the dysfunction of the parietal lobe...  I concluded, in my pseudo-academic treatise, that the spacial concept provided by the parietal lobe far outweighs the visual stimulus offered by a functioning occipital lobe.  


As a creative type in the artistic world for three years, and an avid Jazz enthusiast, I really enjoyed Dr. Charles Limb's introductory conversation on the gravity of the frontal lobe's importance in creative endeavors.  He showcased Blood Oxygen Level Imaging of the frontal lobe during jazz improvisational piano playing, and during rap improvisation.  His study didn't really answer any questions, however, he did open the doors on a very interesting conversation.


Speculations and hopeful Implications: 
If in fact the areas that are activated during creativity are the same that are activated for phono-linguistics there could be a very significant implication to speech therapy when combined with creative arts.  A child that does not speak well, could possibly stimulate their lingual gyrus by painting...  This wouldn't even require stimulus across the basal parietotemporal line, but could be isolated to the frontal lobe and have the same advantageous effect.  I'm no expert in art or speech therapy, but I'm sure there is a doctoral dissertation buried somewhere in all this (take a few courses in functional magnetic resonance imaging).


I also see a possibility whereby a person engaging in the creative arts could be demonstrating a high linguistic acumen.  This has very significant implications into the standardized testing world.  If creativity is a tangible language, with measurable metrics a creative person's capability could be quantified and rewarded.  However if these test begin to show that the Brodmann area were what was the primary reactor this would be totally irrelevant.


If I were a cultural anthropologist I would be ravenously consuming data on this quote though: "Rap serves the same function socially as Jazz did in its day." Dr. Charles Limb.  I think this could be a very interesting compare/contrast paper, or even fodder for any young hip-hop artist sick of taking flack.

Check out my new article on what I believe is really behind the recent shootings in Arizona!  With all of the hype and rhetoric we can't fail to see the forest for the trees.

I stumbled upon (not the website) a great quote from Donald Miller today.  What would it mean to listen to the voice of God every day.  To play off His rhythms, and to grow by His voice?  Check out my article on The Real Voice on my blog Theolook.

I read a bit of John Adams' work recently.  What an amazing man!  I felt compelled to write a little story on the type of man he was on my political blog "Elephants on Parade."  Check it out if you have a chance, the article is called The Statesman .  I would love some feedback.

"Dost thou love life? Then do not squander time, for that's the stuff life is made of."

   -Benjamin Franklin, June 1746

      I heard this quote for the first time today as I walked down a very wet Fountain Street in Grand Rapids.  It was drizzling, that quintessential Michigan spring rain, cool to the skin, and cold to the heart.  My dear friend's dad, Mr. Niewiadomski, a man known for frequent words of wisdom, imparted upon me this trifle while discussing the importance of timeliness.       I never gave much thought to time.  Time is a precarious substance.  Very difficult to really place.  It seems that the only occasion upon which I've given it much attention are those times that I have hated it the most; such as ten minutes of time out in the corner as a a child, or the doctor telling me he'll be out with an update in a half an hour.  Those times when I am the most aware of time are the moments I hate it the most.   

     Yet, as Mr. Franklin points out, time may be the most essential thing of this life.  Could it be that life truly is made up of time?  Not in the sense of physicality, but that more so than any other element, time gives the created order most of its form.  I have noticed a trend in my life as of late, that time is very much dealt with apathetically.  I do not pay much note to time or those moments that slip past me with every breath.  To a youth time is an endless well.  It is not until near death, and only in the case that one is knowledgeable of its impending instance, that humans truly live out the fullness of time.             Time is wasted on youth. A professor of mine, Dr. Dave Smith, spoke with me once about Sabbath Living.  Its this idea that life is intended to be experienced in rhythms and cycles.  He proposed a Hebraic idea that one's day began at sundown with the rest one took to prepare for it.  In this notion life was lived out of the overflow.  This really caught me off guard.  My life is the exact converse.  I run myself ragged until I cannot go on any longer, and then I sleep.  But I only sleep until moments before I have to be at my first event of the day.       My life needs rhythm.  Something new, an entire retooling of methodology.  As I have thought about this more, I've come to realize my waking moments too need to be re-imagined.  What would it be like if I used up every moment with laser focus.  What would I accomplish if I lived my life with exacting discipline?        I have entered a season where I need to make this a reality.  I must become more efficient.  I feel this pressure to live life with urgency, a very palpable sense of urgency that directs my every movement.  I must squeeze every drop out of life.  To this I commit myself.  I will learn to live my life well. 

Check out Bobby's newest post on the Lenten season as this last day overtakes us.  I was struck by something Bobby said late last night.  "We live much of our lives in that day between the death and resurrection."  Only a very few moments of our lives do we feel the gravity of death or the joy of rebirth.  I enjoyed breakfast this morning on a screened porch in New Palestine, Indiana.  It was so nice to feel the wind lightly dust my face.  The sun was all but up, and the rain clouds had yet to settle over the sky.  So much peace was in the air today.  Yet there is this weight, the world is pregnant with anticipation.  How fitting that on this Saturday, between Good Friday, and Easter Sunday, that it rains.  Two thousand years ago such a rain descended on Palestine, it brought on its shoulders the despair of the entirety of creation.  

We know that on the wings of tomorrow's dawn a whole new life will be lived.  Tomorrow is Easter, and the promise of salvation will be on my mind.  

Grace and Peace,
Z

Take a look at my article on divine simplicity on Theolook if you have a second.