Wherever You Are, You Can Create Temenos
Temenos, meaning sacred space, comes from the Greek, and refers back to place that is a sanctuary in the natural world. When I teach for just two days at our local art store, the natural world is far away. How can I create a venerated space in a classroom at the back of an art store?
On "Painting to Win"
Yesterday I went on a road trip with a friend to Lexington to deliver some work to our gallery. We talked about things that are particular to those who wrestle with canvas or paper. Regarding the various obstacles that can show up when painting, he said: "Paint to win, don't paint in order not to lose." I had to think about that– my first impression was that "painting to win" was somehow tied to pleasing the crowd, which is always a loss to the soul. As our conversation continued, I realized that he meant something more like: be bold, paint like you mean it. This is the opposite of being timid or careful, or trying to do what is best for the market.
Spell Breaker
There are good spells and bad spells in the creative pattern. Lately it has been more of the latter. Even though I accept the "bad" spells, which are essential to breaking through to new ground, I am impatient. I decided to visit my friend Rodney Hatfield, and see his paintings before they were shipped off to Santa Fe. I was feeling discouraged with how long it sometimes takes to make even one painting I am happy with. Rodney has a stool at one end of his studio, next to which is a pile of scraps of paper– brown paper bags, poster paper, old photo paper etc. There are brushes, gesso and paint on the floor next to his stool. There is a hand written sign on the wall that says: "Shut up and paint", reminding him not to think too much.
"It's an audition each time." B. B. King
B B King died this week. In an earlier interview, Terry Gross asked him (he was in his 70's at the time) about getting nervous before each performance. King replied:
"It's an audition each time...(I remind myself that) I'm never any better than my last concert."
I found this confession comforting, as I have wondered over the years at my persistence in having nervous anticipation before each class I teach. I have come to realize that this is how I prepare; by continuously walking over the line of what I have done before, or what I know. I like to imagine that B. B. King and I are aligned in an uncertainty about the work we are doing– and that this doubt keeps the music, the teaching, the painting, and hopefully, the audience, alive.
The Eggs are in the Nest
Before the robin's nest had these three eggs, it was empty. When the nest was empty I felt disheartened– I don't have any ideas for these paintings, or when I do, I don't like them! My mind was busy struggling with the notion of creating a clearing, of making myself an empty vessel. I painted over everything I had done. All the surfaces were once again white.
Diving into the Wreck
Diving into the wreck is from a poem by Adrienne Rich. I find diving a necessary, and often inconvenient, part of being a maker.
For example, right now I am in the middle of big paintings, medium-sized paintings and small paintings, and various sketchbook studies. Everything is out: Watercolor, acrylics, ink, house paint, and oils. I have dreams of swimming laps with layers and layers of clothes on, and how slow and heavy it feels! There are moments of illumination in my studio, but I am burdened with all these unnecessary and heavy clothes. My dream illuminates those familiar mind struggles: This isn't working! What about some cadmium red? Is this finished? Shall I change my vocation? What about becoming a private eye?
How to Inspire Your Art When You Are Not Making It
We have all had the experience of needing to step back from our work– to get a fresh perspective, and I am thinking again how valuable it is to be around art and artists– and discovering new artists. I have been on a retreat at St Meinrad Archabbey. When I first arrived I felt I was in the story "Beauty and the Beast", when she wakes to find herself alone in a castle, and the table is adorned with fresh flowers, a large bowl of fruit and a fine bottle of pinot noir. The "guest house" has porches all around, looking out to the woods. The reason I am here is by invitation of Brother Martin, the artist in residence– and my need for some solitude.
Some Questions Worth Wondering
One advantage of meeting up with other makers in a friendly atmosphere, at lunch or in a workshop– is that we can rediscover that we really are all in the same boat– that none of us, no matter how accomplished, are in a sublime world where paintings appear out of nowhere– (well, rarely, but not until one has been working for a long time).
Today I am thinking about some questions that work for me when I am struggling in my studio– but I begin by vanquishing this question:
What will people think?
Under a Spell
I have long wondered at the ability for writing, (and by this I mean on paper with a tool in my hand) to put me under a spell. Above I am working with variations of a short poem by Antonio Machado. Even the words of the poem, without knowing the meaning, have a trance quality: everyone who moves on walks like Jesus, on the sea.
Creativity and Boredom
When someone says: Boring! –it is a one word sentence (usually uttered with both syllables drawn out in a singsong voice) that immediately dismisses whatever came before. From this perspective, saying that something is boring is a condemnation. Boredom is a state of mind to be avoided.
I am going to offer an alternate view for makers: boredom as a door into depth, insight and manifestation.