My series of six, still life oil paintings were small in size. Including the frames, five out of the six paintings measured 12 by 16 inches, and one was 9 by 11inches. Initially, I hung the pictures on two, free-standing display panels facing each other in the center of the rotunda, which was well lit and easily seen from the entrance. I also included another panel displaying two small-framed posters designed to match the framed paintings. These advertised the show and included the date and time for the closing reception. I also included an additional framed piece with a brief biography and artist’s statement. The original intent was for the small exhibit to remained on display throughout the month of October. However, the library decided to extend the show into the month of November. After the first month it became clear that the artwork was dwarfed by the large gallery space and the library called to inquire if I might add more artwork to fill out and to expand the show. I agreed to add a few more painted floral paintings which I completed a year before as well as a landscape painting with an autumn color palette. I was concerned that adding additional works that were not directly related to the still life series and theme would dilute the impact and change the mood of the show. I did so reluctantly at first, but I had to admit that the original series of six small canvases appeared “lost” in the gallery space and that adding extra art for an additional month was an appropriate and reasonable request. So, I added the additional pieces which were slightly larger in size- when framed, they measured :14 by 18 inches; 16 by 20-inches and 18 by 24 inches. The extra art did indeed manage to “fill the space in a beautiful way”— to quote Georgia O’Keeffe —when asked to explain the purpose of art. My fear of adding the other pieces turned out to be unfounded and the show “pulled together” quite nicely. The floral paintings and the landscape additions turned out to harmonize well with the original still life paintings and when viewed all together were not at all discordant, but actually created a unified display which appeared visually connected. The viewing public seemed well pleased and the show received numerous compliments and positive comments from library patrons and others who were passing by as I was hanging the paintings. I tried to be as respectful and as quiet as possible while hammering and using various hardware necessary to create the display. Library patrons walked freely throughout the gallery while the show was going up on the walls and some seemed to enjoy watching the process; while others were curious and asked questions about the artwork.

In this dissertation, I attempt to convince an audience of modern naturalists that Socrates’ famous moral thesis—that we should prefer to suffer injustice rather than inflict it, because it is impossible for an unjust person to be happy—is true. Rather than logical proof, however, I focus on questions of rhetoric and of spiritual practice. In short, I argue that the existential truth of Socrates’ claim only begins to manifest for those who adopt a particular curriculum of spiritual training, which combines the pursuit of moral goodness with the pursuit of self-knowledge; this training, however, needs to be undertaken under the aegis of a philosophical rhetoric that first opens us to at least the possibility that Socrates might be right. In the first two chapters of this dissertation, therefore, I focus on rhetoric, as the attempt to destabilize the common naturalist confidence that their own scientific worldview is grounded on the true nature of reality, and that this unprecedented understanding shows Socrates’ moral thesis to be nonsense. Following this, from chapters three to five, I present the aforementioned spiritual curriculum: the “spirituality from above,” oriented towards moral goodness, in contradistinction to the “spirituality from below” that is oriented toward self-knowledge. After presenting the logic of this bivalent practice in chapter three, I then explicate it with reference to the philosophies of David Hume and Richard Rorty (chapter four), and then Plato and Nietzsche (chapter five). Finally, in chapter six, I consider what accepting the truth of Socrates’ moral thesis would mean for the way we live our everyday lives, under conditions of peace, in which the question of whether to suffer or inflict injustice will likely not be a pressing existential concern, and the question of what it actually means to be just will always be unclear and disputed.