Yearning is a force of nature. The seeds of every human experience contain the potential to yearn toward the sun & into the earth…upward toward the unknown & downward into sensory grounding. Yearning keeps us growing up & down. It fuels the curiosity to explore the unfamiliar, to expand understanding, as well as the presistence to dig in & find out what we are capable of doing. Known or unknown, these impulses demand that we get more of what truly matters to us. Yearning is our heart’s desire, the spirit’s urge to discover itself in forms. Yearning is as the title of the Dylan Thomas poem, ‘the force that through the green fuse drives the flower.’ I call it the engine that urges us toward our entelechy which means the full realization of one’s potential. Realizing our entelechy, yearning our way toward it, takes work; the work of art. There is no other human practice that takes us more directly toward our entelechy. Longing contains more concrete desire & awareness of time, while yearning has more depth, heart & soul. For our greatest growth, yearning must not be satisfied for long. Artists must keep the force of yearning fully-charged & then guide this passion into action that gets results. Our yearning is alive in direct proportion to our capacity for wonder…….Eric Booth
this awareness is fragile & dusty & remote much of the time….we catch a glimpse of the ‘entelechy angel’ behind the door in the studio, under the scraps, & in-between the old paint jars….but most of the time, we simply & humbly follow a little vision to create from colors & shapes & textures caught in a daydream….the simple act of laying down fresh paper is like a prayer….
this critical choice to invest my yearning into an offering is new every time ….to show up with courage means to witness the critic….I have no excuses for why I must make art…..this alone, this blessing or curse of the calling, is the work of art….
what dusty corner holds your unique art, your yearning?
Man is not free to refuse to do the thing which gives him more pleasure than any other conceivable action…..Stendhal