Part of his rocket to success is in the reveal. Tim Bengel is an avant-garde artist from Germany whose pigment is sand. Black and white, with gold leaf for accent, are all that remain on the canvas when he tips it upright and a shower of loose sand falls down.  

 

The finished pieces are of course incredible. He has meticulous accuracy depicting iconic architecture, and cityscapes. Yet the contrast with a blurry and unrecognizable table of grays only a few seconds before is exhilarating. It is fun watching a video, but I bet it's fantastic to be in the room. 

 

His secret is glue. Although it is not much of a secret I guess, except that glue is invisible and its only effect is in holding tight to something that can be seen. Each drawing- a word I hesitate to use because there is no pencil- takes weeks to create. Which given the impact and probably the market value seems like a pittance. 

 

One of the mesmerizing features is that even the artist himself has never seen his work until the moment the excess sand spills away. 

 

Two colors. Such a binary palette reminds me of those hundreds of thousands of particles of choice that comprise a lifetime. The kind response, vs. the snarky one. To resist contempt or indulge. The cascade of such tiny moments appears like a table of gray. Yes, I was respectful to my spouse but he or she didn't seem to notice. Did it matter? 

 

Yet after a lifetime of such decisions, things begin to stick. Compassion adheres to our character even if it seems invisible. Silence where there once was criticism can come off like a blank space. Yet when a life tips into eternity, it becomes part of the inner landscape. 

 

It can feel like a sacrifice, to resist delivering a cutting remark. But considering the way my mother and many others have felt in that transition to heaven, it's a pittance. Even she did not see the glory of her own life before the excess sand spilled away.