Think like an artist
An engineer recently signed up for one of my classes in Taos. I asked him what kind of work he likes to do, and he described an enviable picture of things he makes and builds. But really, he said, what he wants to do is learn how to “think like an artist.” This got me curious: What does it mean to think like an artist?
In the second month of being cloistered at home, I hear more and more people saying, What day is it? This reminds me of the long, long journey Frodo and Sam made to Mount Doom* — one day folding into the next, and the path seeming endless. With each step, the ring, that which must be given back to the mountain, becomes heavier with reluctance and doubt and the uselessness of the journey. It is so painful to let go. And so easy to give in, to just feel too tired to carry on. At one point, with miles more to climb, and little difference between day and night, Sam says to Frodo: Is it today or tomorrow?
Remembering the perseverance that was required of Sam and Frodo, I wonder, What is it that I must give up, and throw into the fire at the top of this mountain? What does thinking like an artist require of me now? What is this pandemic asking of me? There are so many things I hope it is not asking me to leave behind — like meeting in person with my students again, and celebrating the communion of making; or going to the small family-owned bar where Anna (who planted our dogwood tree) sings with her band; or the buffet at Mabel Dodge Luhan Retreat, where I can help myself to as much crisp bacon, eggs and fresh baked treats as I want every morning, without gloves or a mask. Or going to our locally owned, family-run art store. Or tasting samples at the Farmer’s Market. Or seeing my father. So many things.
I am sitting with this question of what needs releasing, because I think we are being asked to change, to find a new way of being. To let go so that something new can happen. And something new is happening.
Uprooter of Great Trees
I want to tell you a story — a very old story — that I heard from Laurens van der Post.* It speaks to the necessity of embracing paradox, and off the suffering caused by dualistic thinking: when things are either this or that; when you are either going to succeed or fail; when anything or anyone is either good or bad; when something is either right or wrong. Dualistic thinking renders us unable to deal with the difficulties and paradoxes that life inevitably brings. Spending most of my daylight hours painting, I notice that I need to hold the paradox of having structure alongside the need to be self-forgetting — the fool who jumps in.
I shared this story in a recent class in New Mexico. One of the students arrived at the last minute because of a family emergency. For the entire week she chose to remain silent in her grief, only saying: I cannot speak about it. And so she worked, allowing her hands to give shape to her grief.
Once upon a time, in a faraway place…..