Art is that which despite all gives hope. – Frederick Franck, Art As A Way

How do you put together living in the midst of uncertainty with a culture that insists on everyone becoming an “artist"? In the art world, as well as politics, it is disconcerting to see the confusion between what is false and what is true. Where is the line between show-offs, pretenders and authenticity? Even being an artist often seems more about the openings, exhibits, galleries and critics than the work itself.

What happens to the artist when the goal becomes how to make a splash? Fame for the sake of fame. In our family we call this celebritrocity.

The pilgrimage of the maker is not about how you appear to the crowd, about fame or fortune, but rather the process of finding your place in this world you have been given.

What happens if you act as if this is true, that the world is calling you to show up with the gift you have been given? You don't need to believe this idea to try it on– simply wear it for awhile– put it on like a shirt, with a new grasp of how you belong. Watch what happens.

The word pilgrimage matters too. If you see this path you’re on as part of your process of becoming, finding your place, offering your gift, then you must be whole-hearted with each small step and misstep. When your fidelity is to your inner compass, a lot is required of you, as well as provided. It is humbling to realize one's smallness. It’s a relief. You understand that it is not about the size of what you have to offer, or the notoriety or cost– it is the genuineness of what arises from you that is so powerful. And your commitment to persist in spite of inevitable failures.

There is a profound difference between feeling "on course", in harmony with your inner world and values, and knowing when you are off course– careening toward some goal that was established outside of you. When making a painting or writing a book becomes a status symbol, aiming to please the crowd, it is a burden. You are not free to create in an authentic way. You get lost in the confusion of competition, of establishing an “identity" that was fashioned by someone else.

Being "on course" is a pilgrimage. I am frequently not centered, and most often don't know the way– but this the essential ground of practice, to return again and again to a place of stillness, and trust in something you cannot see. This is the key to liberation from fashion, trend or genre. An attitude of openness, of knowing you are part of something larger, of aiming for a destination, provides the kind of direction that has stability. Your destination is in tune with what you value. This kind of listening — to shut out the incessant demands of duty and the seduction of entertainment — is the hard work of showing up. Of abandoning excuses. The first excuse to go is I am too busy. You are never too busy to be yourself.

There is the knowledge too, that the place you are headed will recede and change before you. Nothing is fixed. One of my favorite metaphors for this is the horizon: as you walk toward it, it always eludes your grasp. This is the mystery, the darkness from which all creation springs. The mystery, like the horizon, refuses our attempts to capture it. Even though the place where the earth touches the sky is a universally recognized feature of our landscape, it cannot be found on any map or reached by any foot. The horizon, known to humans all around this world, is not a physical place. No matter how quickly you walk toward it, it retreats before you. Each person’s perspective of the horizon is unique — no one else stands right where you are, in your shoes.

Detail of calligraphy by Maya Huber, Germany

Leaving room for this mystery, for the Unknown, is the ground. It is knowing you don't know, and nonetheless trusting your ability to put one foot in front of the other, paying attention to each step. It helps me to remember this. It is so easy to forget.

I have been enjoying returning to my old water damaged copies of Frederick Franck's timeless books, Art As A Way and The Zen of Seeing. In the former, Franck describes the making of art as a pilgrimage:

(A pilgrimage is) walking toward a place of great sanctity in the hope of returning from it renewed, enriched and sanctified. — Frederick Franck

Over and again, these are the bliss moments, the aha's, both in my studio, and in the classroom. I see a student's face light up when the distinction between subject and object vanishes, when the boundary between her, and what it is she’s drawing or writing, disappears; when the mind’s editing and judging ceases, as the brush touches the paper, in pure uncensored movement. You are no longer looking at an "object", but rather, beholding and being beheld at the same time.