aliveness in the dream world of solitude

subterfuge of the heart

…aliveness…

In my empty rooms are time & space.

I return to be myself

Unfretted & unfettered

In this self-like place.

T’ao Ch’ien

I am most keenly aware of a deep need for solitude when it is difficult to find…I just need to burrow….to go down deep in the heart…in knowing….to allow all social elements to settle….like a calm pond…I can hear the fish swim….

In solitude, artists confront life with all the integrity, passion & intensity they can muster. These existential encounters are the very essence of authentic living. The time spent in solitude is the time when they feel most alive & real…..with the most intense experiences…..Eric Maisel

loosening your grip on your own identity is quite empowering….dropping the shroud of ego just for a little while….the dreams held so fragile light up, become real & strong….

this is wild mind…fluid, capable & suddenly destined….

like beautiful music that catches your breath…

whispers it, & transforms it to soul…

I know that nothing has ever been real

without my beholding it

All becoming has needed me.

My looking ripens things

& they come toward me, to meet & be met.

….Rilke

wild abandonment & the titillating woo of artistic inspiration

a place to nest in the wild of the heart

‘it’ really is all about passion…our love of our life, the possibilities of renewal, & our physical aliveness within our five senses….this is passion & sensuality….big life….taking it all in…eating the world alive with voracious appetite….

the source of our inspiration… a fire which flames up from the deep vulnerability of letting go…a trance beyond will or imagination…

the question is…can we harness this power? can we channel it into art? do we dare reach for these limits of the human self?

Jung’s unconcsious….

Lorca’s dark & creative force…duende….

‘the constant baptism of newly created things’…the highest high which can drop to the lowest low…if not honored….so rare & so fine….this is soul work of the most daring kind…

A highly traditional work deepens immeasurably when one feels the primal murkiness threatening to swell up underneath the geometric clarity, the verbal concision, & the ironic wit. The ancient demons are never far from shore. The rational art is especially haunting when one feels the struggle in the thought, or even underneath the thought; when one senses something dark welling up from below, from the primordial mud; when one recognizes the powerful internal pressure of a mind defending itself against self…….Edward Hirsch

there’s more than a little soul in the textures of exquisite inspiration…

red & wild….

(this is a huge topic…..more later…..)

switching on your own electricity

to fly or not to fly

Attempts to unravel the labyrinthian dynamics of art’s propulsion according to the categories of the reasoning mind will never replace the mystery with an explanation. The phenomenon simply exists. According to Jung, ‘the bird is flown’ when we attempt to explain the mystery….Shaun McNiff

Art Making & the Shadows of Your Work….

the strange shadows over treetops sometime between dark & dawn (always a miracle)

little baby feet curled around themselves

that peculiar letting go just before sleep (knowing it’s already gone)

the distance felt in a room full of beloved friends, like a dream

looking in night windows; glow & mist & warmth

walking with hands in pockets, filled with treasures; pinecones, stones, feathers

opening a book to the perfect poem

a song flies you back to a time of converse sneakers & blue nail polish

cold hands find a warm teacup & the world is perfect

suddenly aware that you’re being & not doing (oh, that’s so rare & good)

In our night-time, there’s always the electricity switched on, we watch ourselves, we get it all in the head, really. You’ve got to lapse out before you can know what sensual reality is, lapse into unknowingness, & give up your volition. You’ve got to learn not-to-be before you can come into being…..D.H. Lawrence

there can be no doubt when you tiptoe through your own life gently…

simple silence of you & me connecting

reveling in calm

empty space…..like the silence of the heart…..beckons a widening gesture….a noble courage……

It is true of every art that you cannot acquire what you have not felt…..Gustie Herrigel

this is the soundless space of art…where we feed our intention…stepping out of our own way….

The secret of artistic creation & is to be found in a return to the state of ‘participation mystique’….to that level of experience at which it is man who lives, & not the indivdual, & at which the weal or woe of the single human being does not count, but only human existence….Carl Jung

running free….draw strenth from the collective…tearing your bones away from your soul’s edge….shhh….be in the silence & urge a new color palette to emerge….be with that other you awhile…. 

I pass

by day

and night

no one has seen me

If you ever

want to find

me

and know me

leave behind

yourself

and enter

the caves of other

people

there you

will find

me

who is

yourself

…Vincent Ferrini

wild reaches of unconscious immensity…

meditations on man, meditations on nature

The daimonic consciousness does not ‘develop.’ It is an innate sensitivity that we can exercise & condition like our bodies. It is something given to us at birth, our nature, the marrow of soul, & its absence is like a state of soul loss or a fall from grace. This loss, the lost soul, is an essential aspect of the creation cycle. It is always moving; it is creation itself……Shaun McNiff…..Art As Medicine

Don’t forget about those other sources of inspiration….the abstract, the little nudges, the nuance of light in the afternoon window, the whispers, the old wild ones…

We come to this like wanderers…loosely bidden…

The Wanderer seeks the hidden, the mysterious, the wild. She knows the changes she goes through while searching are as important as finding what she seeks. She is not in a hurry. Wandering is as valuable as anything else she might do. She shall wander through both psyche & nature until she can no longer tell them apart….meandering….Bill Plotkin…Soulcraft

through the studio door

painted pages & devilish joy...

 
There is this suspect & guilty feeling in the studio which floats in when all is exciting, moving & raw…..I revel in it…
 
Every new & good thing is liable to seem eccentric, really irrelevant to life. And therefore we must always listen to the voice of eccentricity, within ourselves & in the world. The alien, the dangerous, like the negligible near thing, may seem irrelevant to purpose & yet be the call to our oun fruitful development. We must expect to live the orderly ways we have invented continually conscious of the imminence of change…….
Brewster Ghiselin….The Creative Process
 
Keep it real, unpolished, working, moveable, fledgling, deep in transition….
 
In making art, some artists have learned how to work on the things that really matter to them. It means following your heart. Having a working mastery of the creative process is truly essential to virtually all artmaking. This means creating a life in which working on your art becomes a natural part of your everyday life. Art is not made by a special breed of people, but by ordinary people who dedicate their lives to their own special work. If you are productive, your creativity will take care of itself……..
Ted Orland….The View from the Studio Door
 

I create, I am, I forget who I am….I create….

faded moments, the ones that got away…
 
Creative people find it hard to do the thing that in the abstract sounds relatively easy to do: create & keep creating. What is at the core of the problem?
Picture an egg . If you want to crack an egg because you are baking a cake, you whack it on the side of your bowl, it breaks, & you drop it into the bowl. There’s nothing simpler. But if you are not baking a cake, an egg’s shell feels remarkably formidable. There is something scary about cracking an egg for no good reason, something that makes us squeamish, something that feels like a violation of the egg. Trying to crack an egg for no good reason elicits the same sort of feeling that chalk scratching on a blackboard does. It is a physical reaction, rooted in some primitive fear or anxiety.
Creating each day requires that we crack thorugh a shell of resistance, a shell that frightens us to crack…except when we are really working on something. Then it doesn’t scare us at all & we experience no negativity.
What exactly is this resistance that needs cracking each day? It arises both
from the primitive part of our being, where we fear shadows, & from the sophisticated part of our being, where we understand too much about difficulty & failure…
When the appointed time arrives to create, get out an egg & a bowl, crack the egg, drop it….then begin working. The practice of cracking an egg grabs your mind’s attention & pulls it away from its customary harangue about whether or not you really mean to work. There’s no story attached to it. You begin to see how absurd it is not to break through……..Eric Maisel
 
I have a lot of empty egg cartons…..I make art out of them….
 
Remember…..eggs roll away…..

art & destiny & presence

as natural as breathing...

Expression strikes below the barriers that separate human beings from one another.  Art is the extension of the power of rites & ceremonies to unite men, through a shared celebration, to all incidents & scenes of life. Art also renders men aware of their union with one another in origin & destiny…..John Dewey

Every time I begin working in the studio, I know it is good. I know it is worthwhile. I know it is as natural as breathing.

 I did not copy this light. I was simply bathed by it. One cannot oppose nature. The artist is the instrument of nature. Let it be understood above all that the artist works by necessity. One must have constantly before one’s eyes the very presence of life……Picasso

It’s a gift to be ordinary…. In the end, we follow our underlying nature…

 

a fairy-tale life…

the glow of a fairy-tale nook....

There is nothing quite like the land of make-believe….

nothing else can make the day a little more magical…all things winged…

maybe a little dream time in a beauteous garden…

I could believe in a dream like this…..a fairy tale house? oh yes…

DailyGood: Man Builds Fairy Tale Home for $4700, by Heidi Stevenson.

winged fairies remind me to open to possibility, to stay fresh…

wandering & wondering…..

if you believe, the fairies will swoop in…

…….I don’t want to live a small life…….

I don’t want to live a small life. Open your eyes,

open your hands. I have just come

from the berry fields, the sun

kissing me with its golden mouth all the way

(open your hands) & the wind-winged clouds

following along thinking perhaps I might

feed them, but no I carry these heart-shapes

only to you. Look how many how small

but so sweet & maybe the last gift

I will ever bring to anyone in this

world of hope & risk, so do.

Look at me. Open your life, open your hands.

Mary Oliver

forgetting who I am to become….

the muse is out....

Awake, my dear

Be kind to your sleeping heart

Take it out into the vast fields of Light

And let it breathe…..Hafiz

There is a kind expectation in the studio when I am excited…when I am playing rather than making….it is ‘blissness‘ with the children….it is pure discovery…..
listen well…

If you want to build a ship, don’t drum up people to collect wood and don’t assign them tasks and work, but rather teach them to long for the endless immensity of the sea…… Antoine De Saint Exupery

It is a time to dance…..singe your wild heart….so freaky cool…..let it go…

Just remember to get back home, back to the studio, back to your heart…

Where thou art, that is Home….Emily Dickinson