By Marcelle La Cour

It appears to me that a great deal of the world has been recruited into the “Cult of Greed”, duped by its God, "I Must Have." Perhaps this is a harsh statement. Yet maybe it is a true one. Much of the western world seems amazingly adept at it. Yet certainly this statement could not have been conceived of nor written here if not for the observation of the direction life is moving in. One of my greatest concerns is that I see that this "Cult of Greed" does not recognize the existence of the soul, except as some sort of misplaced, minor addendum to life.

The word "soul" is something grossly misunderstood; its value underestimated, its essence trodden on and left battered by the wayside in the masses' mad rush to get the best, the most, the greatest new contrivance, the ultimate in all things, to worship this God of things.

Things, possessions, ownership, position; these appear to have become the highest goal. And it does not seem to matter what destruction has to occur to what and to whom, in the name of this God. And this God must be fed, at all costs! By the wealth obtained from maimed and dying forests. By the billions obtained from the illness generated for the medical, chemical, and many other industries by means of bodies crippled from the toxins and chemicals created in every conceivable form and dispersed into every possible avenue. By power attained through the deception and confusion put forth by those who would obfuscate the true nature of man and so gain domination through the dissemination and justification of amorality and criminality, and upon which they must depend for their own existence. And all, transmuted into the food upon which this God must feed and the drink which this God must imbibe; the expiration of the soul, the spirit of mankind. Maybe I'm being a little excessive. Maybe this appears exaggerated. Maybe. I wish this was not what I see so often, but I do. Greed eats man's soul. What remains?

Perhaps the words of the great writers continue to live on because they remind us of what we are; that indeed there is a soul in the equation of life. The masterful paintings before which we stand in awe; do they not show with exquisite genius and technical mastery the portrayal of the soul of man? What of the incomparable composers and musicians whose amazing ability to lift us off above this plane and take us as far as our imaginations and emotions will go? What of the players and makers of movies and theatre that show us new worlds with such divine care and craft? And so, the artist, of whatever genre, keeps our souls alive, spurs us on and inspires us, motivates us in our own creations of life as we wish it to be.

An artist's ability to achieve this in us is the measure of his capability as an artist. Works of truth and beauty, along with the technical expertise required to accomplish them, are remembered. If you look, you may see this – these are the works that we continue to hold dear to us through time. The closer a work of art is to the truth, your truth, the more memorable, the more impact it has upon our hearts, the more worthy it is to us. And not all artists are of the same caliber, expertise or awareness – there are gradations in this as in all other fields of endeavor and only you know how great a work of art is, no one else. No authority or critic of whatever field can tell you how a work of art affects or moves you. How great, or good, is a work of art? Well, what does it do to you or for you? What impact does it have on you and your life? There lies your answer.

The artist deals in the coin of the imagination. He is a rebel set against convention and mediocrity. His gifts touch our souls and he presents us, in all the vast and diverse ways and means with which he is capable of, his truth and a window through which to see that which might never have been visible before. He takes us to new worlds and sets new standards of reality, which others catch on to and utilize to bring about the physical actualities of these forms and ideas. Therein lies what our future culture will be.

But with the strangulation of the soul, the breadth and vision of what life can be suffocates until the narrow and mundane are almost the only surviving realities. The artist has no life here. He struggles to breath in a world that no longer gives him the oxygen he must exist upon. And then so dies the inspiration and values of life, which give us true depth of joy and satisfaction. Dreams go by the boards, for who has time to dream when the Cult of Greed has us in its grasp? What artist can swim and survive in these treacherous waters? The God of Greed demands all our effort and time in the pursuit of more, of better, of gain-no-matter-who's-pain. It has trapped us in a vicious cycle, which few can see. Do you?

I write this because this is my truth, what I observe, what I feel I need to present to you; a window through which to see, if you choose. I am an artist. I paint to show the color of beauty and emotion that moves me so that I must portray it. I write to express the deep feelings and ideas that I believe have to be shared. And I dance, because I live for the music and the mastery of movement that uplifts my soul. My soul, me, I, am an artist on fire, striving to advance beyond the reach of the God of Greed, hoping the sparks from this fire within me ignite something in you, in turn. Perhaps to make the forgotten embers that lie within you burst into flame again.

I choose not to be a member in the Cult of Greed, though I have been caught in its pervasive net, as so many others have been; unwitting, unwilling, unhappy. My soul is not an adjunct to life; something that one barely acknowledges the existence of in passing. It IS life.

© 2000, Marcelle La Cour. All Worldwide Rights Reserved

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