The Monotype of the Day Project Wrap Up

Some photo highlights of the last 900 days:

My daily post of an original monotype print is over and I will be switching to a once a week post: Monotype of the Day Mondays.

This project has transformed me and my whole relationship to making art. I have posted for 900 days, not skipping a single day even when I travelled, even when I was in the hospital for a week three different times. I am a different artist than when I started. So much of the unnecessary angst around my studio practice is either gone or the volume has been turned very low. The major changes fall into a few categories:

Self Judgment: I still judge my work (who doesn’t?), but I move on anyway. Most of the time judgements while working amount to indistinct chatter in the back of my head. After a piece is complete, if I don’t like it, I take a breath and move on. In a very deep way, I know the piece is not for me and my judgment is irrelevant. It is my job simply to work and let the world sort out the rest.

Trust: Failure and mistakes while working don’t faze me. I look at them as the hand of The Artist (universal source of all creativity) gently directing me to a different path. I have come to have an unshakable faith in the value of working, a deep trust that what we do as artists matters even though we may never know how or what effect it has. I never worry or question my purpose anymore. Instead, if those feelings come up, I walk into my studio and get back to work.

Inspiration: Inspiration is overrated. Showing up to work is the most important thing. Most days of this project, I had no idea what I was going to make until I stepped in front of my printing plate. The key thing for an artist is to be brave enough to show up anyway and trust their process.

Process: For an artist process is always more important than product. If you worry about the finished piece, you can’t be in the present moment. If you are not in the present moment it’s hard to fully access the creative flow. 

Partnership: Art materials have purpose and desires of their own. This project taught me to listen to my materials and give them voice. So many times the desires of ink lead me to the conclusion of a piece. The physical world is an inescapable fact for the artist, as is the creative flow. The artist must reach through the veil between worlds to partner with the universal creative flow while at the same time remaining firmly grounded in the present moment. We form a triad, Artist / artist / physical world. This is a partnership that must be honored not dominated.

Meaning: Each piece has two levels of meaning. There is the meaning that the viewer creates as they interact with the piece and there is the more personal meaning for the artist- a tender message from The Artist to the artist. This project has been a correspondence between lovers.

The effect on me: The constant flow of creative energy has opened me up. It washed away so much that was blocking me and enlarged my vessel. It’s even improved my health. As angst in the studio has receded, I have been able to reclaim that trapped energy and my body has responded positively. To an artist, work is life.

Gratitude: Thank you! I am beyond grateful for all the support I’ve received on this project. I am grateful for all your comments, likes, and purchases. It means the world to me. Thank you also to those who follow my progress silently, your presence is felt and appreciated. Thank you to the long suffering :) Barry Echtman who soldiered on through all my late nights, bought my supplies to the hospital, changed his schedule to help me, and so much more. Love you! Special thanks for their support (in no particular order) to Harry Echtman, Dottie Archibald, Tom Archibald, Barbara Archibald, Gayle Mahoney, Liz Munro, Wendy Bellermann, Leslie Goldman, Celene Ryan, Robert Ramos, Kathyrn McGuire, all my fellow Clerestory/4flavors artists (Jorge Larrea, Brian Stymest, Mary Young, Steve Kelly, Nora Murphy, Gayle Mahoney, Armando Outthere Diaz), Ellen Kahaner, Lisa Basile, Miles Shapiro, Poetry Chaikhana (for showing the world of sacred poetry beyond the Middle Ages all those years ago), Ann Strand, and Annemarie Greenwood. THANK YOU!!!

The whole project is viewable on my blog, Art of the Spirit (www.sybilarchibaldart.com/blog), my website (www.sybilarchibaldart.com/the-monotype-of-the-day-project), and on Instagram and Facebook. If you are interested in purchasing I’m happy to do payment plans. Most of the prints from the last few months can be found here: https://www.sybilarchibaldart.com/monotypes-for-sale. Prints before that can be found here https://www.sybilarchibaldart.com/the-monotype-of-the-day-project

 

Lots of love, Sybil

what lies behind?, Monotype of the Day #584

Day 214 of Year 2 (Actually Day 219)

No words have been coming the past few days though new project are beginning to hatch and grow. I am in that uncertain space where marks have been made but the road map remains unclear. I am off on a new adventure and I am grateful to be at the beginning again.

Sonnets to Orpheus Book 2. 12
Rilke, Trans. Stephen Mitchell

Will transformation. Oh be inspired for the flame
in which a Thing disappears and bursts into something else;
the spirit of re-creation which masters this earthly form
loves most the pivoting point where you are no longer yourself.

What tightens into survival is already inert;
how safe is it really in its inconspicuous gray?
From far off a far greater hardness warns what is hard,
and the absent hammer is lifted high!

He who pours himself out like a stream is acknowledged at last by Knowledge;
and she leads him enchanted through the harmonious country
that finishes often with starting, and with ending begins.

Every fortunate space that the two of them pass through, astonished,
is a child or grandchild of parting. And the transfigured Daphne,
as she feels herself become laurel, wants you to change into wind.

From Duino Elegies & Sonnets to Orpheus https://amzn.to/31ZbYQd

sunrise, Monotype of the Day #365

365.jpg

One year! And something totally different again, a sunrise, full of optimism. It's been quite an adventure of late in the studio. I have no idea at all what will come out. One year of prints everyday without fail through all my ups and downs, through hospital stays, trips and grumpiness, feels like a big occasion. But I'm treating it like any other day, a chance to get down to work and see what will happen. Tomorrow I'll be back in the studio again. Year two, day one.

As I look back over the year I feel such intense gratitude for all the changes this project has brought to my life. I've grown as an artist and a person. The constant wash of creative flow through me has worn away so many rough edges like a river smooths a stone. I've felt the immeasurable power of showing transform my life and open opportunities and connections. I have formed a deep faith in the value of working. As those of you who follow me regularly know, I had a difficult spring with 3 hospitals stays. It was working that carried me through, even as fever and an operation pulled me down. Touching the creative flow healed me and brought me back to life. Over the course of this year, I've had an intimate, life changing conversation, artist to Artist (the source of all creativity). It has been profoundly private and also more public than anything I've ever done- two opposites almost mystically coexisting in one moment. I've experienced great beauty, sorrow and joy while working and now I am filled with gratitude. My profound thanks to everyone who is following my journey and all the support I have received from you. The comments, likes and sales mean the world to me. If you are not a commenter, know that I feel and value your support. Although I would still be in the studio without you all, your presence this year has made everything so much sweeter and you are dear to me. A special thanks to Barry Echtman, without whose support so much would remain undone and all my artist friends!

As once the winged energy of delight
by Rainer Maria Rilke, Trans. Stephen Mitchell

As once the winged energy of delight
carried you over childhood’s dark abysses,
now beyond your own life build the great
arch of unimagined bridges.

Wonders happen if we can succeed
in passing through the harshest danger;
but only in a bright and purely granted
achievement can we realize the wonder.

To work with Things in the indescribable
relationship is not too hard for us;
the pattern grows more intricate and subtle,
and being swept along is not enough.

Take your practiced powers and stretch them out
until they span the chasm between two
contradictions… For the god
wants to know himself in you.

———————

See you tomorrow

xoxo

the landing, Monotype of the Day #364

I had a really hard day today. Some days are like that, it's just the nature of things. It threw me off in the studio tonight. I wasn't in the flow and working felt labored. The boat is coming into shore though so something is shifting. That's always good news. I'm grateful for the ability to show up and work. Posting a print I have mixed feelings about isn't easy but my faith is in process not in product. It's my job to work and I'll leave the rest to others. Tomorrow will be one year, I'm not intending to stop. I'm also doing my best not to think about tomorrow or plan. It's just a day like any other. I will show up in my studio and I will work.

This work is paired with "A Carbon-Based Life Form" by Jane Hirshfield.

Reas it here: https://static1.squarespace.com/static/59de49838dd041430865b945/t/5a817b69ec212d8118318b07/1518435178666/3Hirshfield2.01.pdf

Wandering the Desert

The Pregnant Virgin Mary by Sybil Archibald

Click the images for closeups, more information & more work in the Earthen Vessel series.Painted clay and wood, 201158" x 16" x 16"

My heart howled

Held me hostage
Be a t b y b ea ttttt
Heart of mine why
did you beat in absent rhythm
instead of with earth's steady drum?

Was it God's own secret beat?
The chaos that crumbles old form
into fertile new earth?I was a frail and helpless cage,
rattled from my depths
by a heart singing Your secret song.
Yet in that excruciating fear
crushed into stillness by that iron grip,
I heard the silence and
found You again.

How can I be anything but grateful?
My heart beats for You
I am a shell, one empty, cracked vessel,
your quietly waiting alembic,
Please
fill me with honey
for I have had enough of pain.-Sybil Archibald 2012

My last post, Emerging from the Desert, was a bit premature. Instead I have been wandering the desert seeking a way home. I found myself deeper in the cave these many months than ever before. Like the the Desert Fathers and Mothers who wrestled their own shadows, I was in such darkness that I must have been blinded by the Light. Again the great Artist** struck me low so that I could be raised up, my coarse clay smoothed and baked to form a stronger vessel to bear the creative light.The past few months have been some of the scariest of my life. My last post saw me moving with happy heart to what I felt was home. However things didn’t click as expected. I was so tired doing anything wore me out. I assumed the move was responsible. As it turned out, the real cause was that half my blood was missing due to a bleeding stomach. I awoke one night and my heart was racing. My defibrillator, which once before had been a great awakener, began going off repeatedly. I ended up in the cardiac ICU and 3 bags of blood later everything began to calm down.For 3.5 months my heart beat with strange and frightening rhythms. All I could do was lay there a prisoner from inside as chaos coursed through my body. Sometimes it lasted minutes, sometimes hours. Often it woke me up from what little sleep I managed.Is it strange that now I find myself grateful for this traumatic time? Like every crisis before, this experience has shifted me deeply to the core. A load of unconscious pain I was carrying has vanished. Crisis throws a stark light on reality and forces you to see what you had before been blinded too. It was painful to see certain truths, especially about my family, but it is more work to cling to a false reality and try to make it real. That energy I used cling to illusion is now released and will be used for more creative purposes. I am now more able to step into present moment, where all true art is created.During this time I was unable to do even the smallest things like cook diner or sit on the couch for an evening; making art was a complete impossibility. But now that I’m feeling better and my heart is on earth rhythm again I am chomping at the bit to get back to my work.I intend to shift my work from the expression of suffering to the exploration of joy. In retrospect, I notice this transition was already beginning in my Earthen Vessel series. But this clear focus will be a fresh adventure for me. It’s something I never consciously conceived of before this newest brush with chaos. Coincidentally, or perhaps not, I received this in a newsletter from Rob Brezsny, who I enjoy for his unique ability to reframe issues, his creativity and his wit:

GAZING INTO THE ABYSS OF HAPPINESS
More and more creative people find they do their best work when they're feeling healthy and secure. We know writers who no longer need to be drunk or in agony in order to shed the numbness of their daily routine and tap into the full powers of their imagination. We have filmmaker friends whose best work flows not from the depths of alienated self-doubt but rather from the heights of well-earned bliss. Singer-songwriter P.J. Harvey is the patron saint of this new breed. "When I'm contented, I'm more open to receiving a lot of inspiration," she has testified. "I'm most creative when I feel safe and happy."

At the Beauty and Truth Lab, we've retired the archetype of the tormented genius. We have zero attraction to books and movies and songs by depressed jerks whose work is celebrated but whose lives are a mess. Stories about supposedly interesting creeps don't rouse our perverse fascination because we've broken our addiction to perverse fascination. When hearing about illustrious creators who brag that they feel most stimulated when they're angry or miserable, we unleash the Official Beauty and Truth Lab Histrionic Yawn . . . .

All I can say is amen to that!

** My name for the Divine

PS For all those who reached out from my last post. I'm sorry I didn't respond. I hope you'll forgive me :) I look forward to connecting in the future,

Living in Gratitude

This video is really an audio recording of Caroline Myss speaking about gratitude and waiting. The pictures are nothing special, but the audio! It's one of the most empowering things I have listened to in a long time:

Gitanjali # 37
I thought that my voyage had come to its end at the last limit of my power--that the path before me was closed, that provisions were exhausted and the time come to take shelter in a silent obscurity.
But I find that thy will knows no end in me. And when old words die out on the tongue, new melodies break forth from the heart; and where the old tracks are lost, new country is revealed with its wonders.

-Tagore

Sybil Responds

I am utterly overwhelmed and humbled by the response to my last post. I received many lengthy letters from people, some of whom I have known for years and some who have never posted a comment before. If I have not responded to your letter yet, please know that I will and that I am just seeking words which are adequate containers for what I feel. There have also been so many beautiful and supportive comments both here and via email.It is a great surprise to me that my words and journey have impacted people to strongly. This is a deep lesson about self-judgment and trust. I guess that none of us understand the wake our vessel leaves as we navigate through life. We may judge our contribution as small or meaningless, but if this has taught me nothing else, it is that we are not meant to judge ourselves.We are meant to wade into the Light and embrace our path, trusting that if we pursuit our calling, we add to what is good and true in this world. Let us leave the judgments, good or bad, to others. In the end we may all be truly astounded, as I am astounded today, by how empty my own judgments were.My heart is filled with love. You have filled me. Thank you.

A fish cannot drown in water,
A bird does not fall in air.
In the fire of creation,
God doesn't vanish:
The fire brightens.
Each creature God made
must live in its own true nature;
How could I resist my nature,
That lives for oneness with God?

- Mechthild of Magdeburg

On Filling the Vacuum a Bit More

Picture of the Sun

I leave next week for St. Thomas. I thought I would be staying with a friend, but someone just offered us a free apartment. The power of waiting is amazing! In the passed, I would have pushed to get this all set up months ago. We would have paid more than was wise for a much shorter time. My body really can't tolerate the cold as it once did, so knew that I something would happen to help me and I waited. Really it can together at the very last moment. Part of me still can't believe my good fortune! I am extremely grateful!

What I love about St. Thomas is the intensity of the light. It fills you like glass is filled with water. You become infused with the sun. When mystics speak of seeing the light of God, they are not speaking of the light of the sun. And yet, in St. Thomas it becomes clearer that the two lights are one and it is only our eyes and minds which divide them.

I have not felt the desire to paint for quite a while. I have focused on drawing, etching & sculpture. Color is nothing more than reflected light and perhaps knowing the intensity of light I shall soon encounter, I begin to feel the colors of my painting again. It’s a bit like seeing something out of the corner of your eye. You sense it's there but you can't understand it fully. I won't think of what I will paint; that I will let flow through me when the time arrives. But it seems clear that I will be painting.

Yes, I know, this is nothing but thy love, O beloved of
my heart- this golden light that dances upon the leaves, the
seidle clouds sailing across the sky, this passing breeze leaving its
coolness upon my forehead.
This morning light has flooded my eyes- this is thy
message to my heart. Thy face is bent above, they eyes looked
on my eyes, and my heart has touched thy feet.
-Tagore (Gitanjali #59)

Home Again

So, I'm back home. Everything went great. I'm still a bit hung-over from the anesthesia, but otherwise feeling well. Amazingly, so many of the people (the nurses, techs, anesthesiologist, & etc.) remembered me from a year ago. A little strange, but wonderful. I felt really well taken care of!I'm brewing a posting about emptiness and new beginnings but I don't think I should post anything substantial until I'm sure my mind is back to normal! Probably tomorrow...

Singing Image of Fire
A hand moves, and the fire's whirling takes different shapes:
All thing change when we do.
The first word,
"Ah," blossoms into all others.
Each of them is true.
- Kukai

Happy New Year from Art of the Spirit

Fountain

The Fountain
How well I know that flowing spring
     in black of night.

The eternal fountain is unseen.
How well I know where she has been
     in black of night.

I do not know her origin.
None. Yet in her all things begin
     in black of night.

I know that nothing is so fair
and earth and firmament drink there
     in black of night.

I know that none can wade inside
to find her bright bottomless tide
     in black of night.

Her shining never has a blur;
I know that all light comes from her
     in black of night.

I know her streams converge and swell
and nourish people, skies and hell
     in black of night.

The stream whose birth is in this source
I know has a gigantic force
     in black of night.

The stream from but these two proceeds
yet neither one, I know, precedes
     in black of night.

The eternal fountain is unseen
in living bread that gives us being
     in black of night.

She calls on all mankind to start
to drink her water, though in dark,
     for black is night.

O living fountain that I crave,
in bread of life I see her flame
     in black of night.
St. John of the Cross

Wow!I leave you with the beautiful poem describing the fecund stream of Divine Creativity. (And he describes it in feminine terms!)My wish for you for the New Year: May you be blessed with deep connection to this stream, may your life and work abound with creativity, growth and love.Thanks for reading this year. See you in 2008!-----------------------------I don't believe in luck, but I'm going with this anyway! 8 is considered an extremely lucky number in China so this is going to be a very lucky year. (Every little bit helps, right?)

Art of the Spirit Recieves Roaring Lion Award

A beautiful thing has happened. Gartenfische, whose blog is so extraordinary and moving, has awarded me “A Roar for Powerful Writing” award! I am so honored because I respect and admire Gartenfische’s work so much. She understands the mystical side of life and helps to guide me closer to the Divine. Thank you Gartenfische!Roaring Lion AwardThere is so much beauty in this world! Now I get to pass this award on to another blogger. I have to tell you it is next to impossible to choose. There are so many blogs with wonderful writing. But my choice has to be Princess Haiku. Her blog is beautiful and whimsical. But, also, she was one of the first to discover my blog and gave me so much encouragement through writing me my first comments.I only have one award to give but I'd like to mention two other blogs whose writing I love: on spirituality, Jan & on life in general Mary Kaufman.

Illness & the Divine

You are in love with me,
I shall make you perplexed.
Do not build much, for I intend to have you in ruins.
If you build two hundred houses in a manner that the bees do;
I shall make you as homeless as a fly.
If you are the mount Qaf in stability.
I shall make you whirl like a millstone.
-Rumi

I spend a lot of time with kids. It’s wonderful and difficult at the same time. Children are brutally honest. As I’ve mentioned before, I have scleroderma. This condition has caused my hands & face to contract. It has also caused my jaw to come out of alignment so that my teeth do not meet up properly. In short, I look strange. This doesn’t usually bother me because I don’t think about it. That fact that my hands don’t open doesn’t really affect my life much except for a few things I’ve had to give up: piano, knitting & a few miscellaneous activities. Sometimes when I see a picture of myself from long ago I’m sad,Anyway my point is, I am who am I regardless of my what I look like. There are some people who are perfectly gorgeous in everyway and are miserable. But that’s not me, I’m deformed but happy. But when I get around kids and they ask me why I look funny it does upset me because it’s a shock. I don’t remember I’m strange because I never think about it. I think this is God’s way of tempering me like a sword, throwing me into the fire to make me stronger.To truly reflect the Divine in this world, we must learn to be present in every moment. We must be totally in the physical world without controlling it. It’s amazing how much I want to control the world. I want my face back, I want my hands. But I know that is just me controlling the flow of Divinity in this word. I won’t be a dam, I wish to be an open well, a channel between the ocean & the land. Clearing this channel takes letting go of everything I think I am.

Thank you hands that contract so I may expand
Thank you jaw that hangs open so I must speak
Thank you feet that ache so I must stay still
Thank you heart that weathers the storm so I may be washed clean
Thank You again and againThank You
-Sybil Archibald