From
In Between. (The space between
posts.)
'In between inspirations,' that is. A familiar
phase, but then it always was. Not that the process ever
stops. It's cyclic, like everything 'else.'
Besides, the
moon is more than half way into its' waning. Just five days to
being nothing but a crescent rim.
And since it's waning, it's also
raining. No lunar pull to keep the clouds up there, so they
descend and have seeped deep into the earth.
Between
inspirations. Though it's more like a wave form. Above
and below the trajectory, conscious to subconscious, alternating.
Though, since conceiving the draft of this drift, something embryonic
is already taking on form.
I wonder, how synchronized with
lunar cycles, are my creative patterns. I'm too leisurely to
research that at present.
No need, besides, it's organic,
not contrived.
To conceive a structure over what happens by
itself, may be a useful tool in some instances. And in others,
it would be "like putting legs on a snake," i.e. needlessly
irrelevant, and potentially inhibiting.
Inspirations, whether
visual, verbal, or musical, quite naturally have a phase when they're
not there.
That's alright though, they're just like dolphins,
leaping into the light and arcing over, diving deep.
A nice
metaphor for the playful creative cyclic wavelength.
'Inspiration',
is also a word that derives from the breathing process.
Respiration, inspiration, expiration. Inhalation, exhalation,
which also happens by itself. To say, 'i am inspired', is to
say, 'i am breathed.'
The perpetual alternation is not something
to worry about.
The wisest and only way is to just go along,
one with the process. Which is why, faced with the puzzle of
what to write, yet again, that, in itself, is exactly what i'm
writing about. The solution already exists within the
question.
Then There's Art.
Aha! If you play around with 'Art',
you might get 'Rat', or even ' Tar.' That's a sticky situation
to find yourself in, either way.
The 'art', is in creating
something significant, and, for want of another word, beautiful,
where seemingly before, there was nothing of that nature. I say
'beautiful' because, there are already too many ugly messes being
produced in the world, quite apart from the 'art world', and for want
of reverence for natural beauty, they don't serve life. Quite
the opposite, they oppose it. If you want a healthy belief
system, you can't go far wrong with simply a reverence for natural
beauty. The rest follows.
With what we call 'art', there
are no tricks involved, and no formulas or short-cuts. You
could say that it's about constantly refining the discipline of
generosity. Never mind putting a high price on that. You
just have to dive deep. But don't forget to come up, when
you're ready, bearing the gift you've discovered.
So here i go
again, with the moon waning, the earth sodden, the air a dense grey
veil obscuring the visibility of far vision, and with seemingly few
new clues to play with.
Think along the lines of: When you
don't know what to write, write about that. When you don't know
what to paint, that you haven't visualized before, look into the
matter, doodle, imagine something you like to imagine. When you
don't know what , or how, to play and sing, then, well, ...er,
hum.
So i've doodled and discarded, looked at possibly
hundreds of images on the internet which approximate my idea, and
looked critically with discernment. I'm imagining and
synthesizing, and modifying with the slenderest of possible
clues.
Bright Horizon.
I like to play with titles, they are a kind of
key. Rather than being a frivolous afterthought, i'm finding
they often tend to come first, like a destination to aim for.
Not
just any old descriptive title, but preferably one with '13'
letters. That's part of the challenge in forging the key.
It has to fit properly.
You can imply a lot with just 13
letters, (two or three words). It takes a bit of a poetic
anagram process, using words of the right 'colour', and 'shape' to
make an apt evocation, but that's an aspect of the magic.
At
present, i have an intuitive clue, around the poetic or mystic
associations with 'horizons', and it will evolve from there.
You
know, how terrain, seen from afar, tends to evoke 'the promised land'
impression. Because, leaving much to the imagination. I
might do well to use my good binoculars more often, but for the
recent seasonal visibility level.
Having looked at dozens of
internet images of Irish horizons (horizontal ones) in a diversity of
weathers, preferably rainy, and finding very few of the precise
feeling i need to spark the spark. But that's natural, it's
field work. They are but momentary glimpses from other peoples
random subjective focus and transitory orientation. Fascinating
however.
When i say the word, 'horizon', it will evoke 'your'
horizon. It's a very subtle questing, avoiding the obvious as
if navigating a minefield. Consensus perception seems to dwell
quite happily in a sort of 'picture postcard' orientation, befitting
a tourist rather than a native orientation. I like to probe
areas that are as subtle as possible, Looking for something
other than common perception. Which implies that the more
refined my focus, the less likely to be able to communicate it.
It's in the realm of feeling anyway, which is not the same thing as
'emotion'.
Cyclically, i have always drawn many blanks.
Always a hard card to draw, at first. Start from the seeming
nothingness and feel your spirit-way into it. No guarantee it
will resonate with any perception acquired from others. That's
good, it's personal and subjective, like everything else.
I
did manage to bring up a glimpse of it in my painting, 'Soft Grey
Skies.' The curiosity of far-seeing, continues.
It has
nothing to do with photo-realism, what's the point of that?
It's a kind of soul invocation code imbued into substance.
It's
where human nature blends with so-called ' non-human nature.'
It's
a discipline, an invisible exploration in microcosm. By far,
preferable to the illusion that, within, and without, are two
separate worlds. There is more to vision than meets the eye.
Obviously.
Researching, creating, and encountering the blank
emptiness of impossibility, applies to any field of activity,
scientific or artistic, practical or materialistic. Where are
there any actual boundaries?
I remember consciously deciding,
back in 1993, continual 'death and rebirth' is a cool way to live.
It's what all of our cells are doing already, all the while, dying
and re-birthing, " a flashing into existence", from a Zen
perspective. Never the same as you were yesterday.
So it
makes sense to augment and celebrate change. By being
constantly attuned to the kaleidoscopic transformations of the cyclic
creative process of renewal and re-creation. Or, to paraphrase
a line from a Bob Dylan song, ('It's Alright Ma'), and run it through
my 'anagram brain', (as a friend called me) : 'He not dizzy
being born is dizzy buying.'
( Call that a 'Dylanogram' if you
like.)
Cycles and seasons, older than the hills. Central
is the solar archetype that never went away. Where would it
go? As we continue in the vast continuum, affirming, aspiring,
in ever expansive spiral arms of our ascending orbit.
Relinquishing
the familiar, emerging into uncharted spaces, whether without, or
within, and all spaces in
between.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Martin
Rainbowmaker.
art
: Sacred Sunrise, martin law, August 2010
