From the still silent dark void of nothingness an expression emerges and is born in its own sweet imperfect perfection.
I have spent most of my life comparing myself to others and Every time I would put myself at the Very bottom of the heap, the ‘not enough’ vibration in All it’s permutations writhed through like a tireless seething huge anaconda, never resting. I have had a Constant negative voice that I am not an artist, how Dare I claim I am an artist, look at the sublime Magnificence of what others produce and present to the world, my offerings have absolutely no value, are pathetic, trite, trivial and are completely ridiculous….
Well… I DARE!!! I Dare WILDLY!!!!! I AM an Artist! Of COURSE I am an artist, how Ridiculous to ever think otherwise. We are All artists! This Whole Entire dance is art.
Waking up this morning and opening my eyes and smiling at my day is such sweet art. Ok it’s not on the walls of some great famous gallery and may never be witnessed by many other people but I witness it, I bow to the magnificence of my art. (I have had several Crazy visions of a tasteful public art exhibition of my body, so maybe one day this will indeed happen?! I have also put my intention out there that my body will be used as a canvas for body art and I was talking to a body artist the other night – Very exciting!!!!!!)
I create not for the final polished perfect object or experience, I create for the experience of the creation, the process and the journey. This was so true in my pottery class when I took such Enormous delight in getting down and dirty in the rich clay. I Really really didn’t care at all about what the end product was, I had absolutely No attachment to that as I was so present in what was going on with my hands Right then! Yes I am a complete beginner and the pots I threw usually broke, fell apart, crumpled. I was in Delight at this, testing the edges, how far could I stretch the sides before it fell, how thin could I make it before it broke, would my creation survive the heat of the kiln and the firing, would the glaze be as I imagined…. It was always a surpirise to see what emerged from the kiln.
I had Such such deep joy today playing on the beach and making stone creations - dollops'. There is something about this that is my perfect expression. It is not just a random bunch of stones in a heap, there is Huge amounts of mindfulness and awareness going on:- connecting to the space, where will the dollop be born, where is the foundation stone, exploring the stones to feel and sense which ones are to be used, it’s strange that they literally vibrate if its the right stone and I am drawn to them. I drop into a meditative place and also use eyes open meditation I feel my heart open and flourish Wider. I love the experience of creating the structure, feeling sensing with deep presence how each one feels and wants to be arranged, where is the center, where is the balance, where is the tipping point. How far can I take it, when will it fall. Sometimes I watch it crumble and start again, and that shows me patience. I Loved sitting back afterwards and watching people enjoy my creations and take photographs of them. I thought a young boy was going to knock them down but he just curiously explored, which was fantastic.
Even this sharing in this blog is an expression of art, an expression of my own energy moving through me onto the page and the dance of my fingers as they musically click on the letters of the keyboard. Growing up, I was terrible at spelling and there were no tests for dyslexia or such like, I was just seen as a bit stupid and made to feel that way and this contributed to and enhanced my massive shyness. I am Far, far, far from ‘stupid’!!!
A Lot of my art is impermanent and fleeting, it cannot be contained or held tightly, it is not made to last, it needs to be born, breathe, flow and die and go back into the rich fecund void to begin another turn.
My art is in my movement and dance. My art is in drawing on the beach, making stone sculptures, playing in the mud, making snow monsters, colouring Outside the lines, putting paint or mud on my face and body…. My art is in my laugh, giggle and in the sparkle of my eyes and in a simple glance. My art is in my arms and in my embrace as I hold others to my warm heart. It’s not intellectual or considered, it needs no permission from Anyone, it needs no critique or judgement. It’s free like a wild horse on the moors with long mane flying as she gallops. My art is Very innocent, full of wonder, deep sacred magic and deep heart.