The universal way of getting someone’s attention is a story. “So there was this guy…” Stories are little journeys we take together into someone else’s life, someone else’s world.
Whenever anyone does anything—violent, baffling, compassionate, courageous—we want to know the story behind their action. Stories are how we find and place meaning.
The stories we tell ourselves also shape the world we build. Every act we do is a reflection of the story we tell ourselves about life, and the meaning of life. Every conflict or cultural upheaval is a collision of world-views. We can start a war by imposing our stories on others; we build peace by listening.
This seems like a good time to reflect on the stories we’re telling ourselves and each other.
This season at The Myrna Loy is about the stories we tell—to ourselves, to each other, to the world. Stories about who we are, where we come from, about moving and crossing borders, about staying home. Stories about finding our roots, about venturing out. Stories told in the language of bluegrass, jazz, classical, folk, country, new music, theater, scripture, poetry, and letters.
And of course we carry on—363 days a year—the flickering firelight of the movie projector, which tells its own stories about our contemporary world.
This year, let’s listen to each other. Let’s speak from the heart. Let’s vote. Let’s sing. Let’s write letters. Let’s gather around the firelight of home and remind ourselves who we are for our short and astonishing time on this earth.
—Krys Holmes
Director, The Myrna Loy