From In Between

On Wed, Jan 9, 2013 at 1:53 AM, Martin Law <martin.rainbowmaker@gmail.com> wrote:

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