in the light, Monotype of the Day #454

Day 88 of Year 2 (Actually Day 89)

I just received a new book of Wendell Berry poems and I found the poem below. There are so many gems in it. The one that stands out the most right now is "There are no unsacred places; there are only sacred places and desecrated places." In the studio the sacred is easily accessed, the veil between worlds pulls thin. But I love this reminder that the sacred is always present and waiting for our awareness. Berry's directions to himself apply to visual artist's as well. One note though, he encourages us to doubt people who like our work. I think he just means keep pushing. No insult to my commenters intended! 😊 xoxo


How to Be a Poet
By Wendell Berry
(To remind myself)

i
Make a place to sit down.
Sit down. Be quiet.
You must depend upon
affection, reading, knowledge,
skill — more of each
than you have — inspiration,
work, growing older, patience,
for patience joins time
to eternity. Any readers
who like your poems,
doubt their judgment.

ii
Breathe with unconditional breath
the unconditioned air.
Shun electric wire.
Communicate slowly. Live
a three-dimensioned life;
stay away from screens.
Stay away from anything
that obscures the place it is in.
There are no unsacred places;
there are only sacred places
and desecrated places.

iii
Accept what comes from silence.
Make the best you can of it.
Of the little words that come
out of the silence, like prayers
prayed back to the one who prays,
make a poem that does not disturb
the silence from which it came.

From Given Poems: https://amzn.to/2AZDS1I

the artist accepts life, Monotype of the Day #453

Day 87 of Year 2 (Actually Day 88)

This image haunted me all day.

Unison Benediction
by May Sarton

Return to the most human,
nothing less will nourish the torn spirit,
the bewildered heart,
the angry mind:
and from the ultimate duress,
pierced with the breath of anguish,
speak of love.

Return, return to the deep sources,
nothing less will teach the stiff hands a new way to serve,
to carve into our lives the forms of tenderness
and still that ancient necessary pain preserve.

Return to the most human,
nothing less will teach the angry spirit,
the bewildered heart;
the torn mind,
to accept the whole of its duress,
and pierced with anguish...
at last, act for love.

https://www.poetry-chaikhana.com/Poets/S/SartonMay/UnisonBenedi/index.html To get the book: https://amzn.to/35ibOof

what's at hand, Monotype of the Day #452

Day 86 of Year 2 (Actually Day 87)

I looked at my Instagram feed today and noticed a lot of boats and some very similar compositions. I figured, okay, if this is the energy working through, I can at least switch up the composition. I had a plan and, as usual, it went right out the window as soon as I looked at my plate. 😊 Another portrait of my hand came instead. I feel uncomfortable with this piece but I've come to understand that is good. The pieces I like are easily understandable, they are working an energy I already know at least a bit. When the new is unfolding it's uncomfortable, it's the energy of change and that can be scary or at least challenging. I've allowed myself more freedom and abstraction here, it's always a breakthrough when you free yourself from constraints. And, as always, the work reflects my life. Today I had a breakthrough on something that's had me stuck for a while. Celebrations all around. Which reminds me of how very grateful I am to be able to share my work with you. Thank you to all who interact with my posts and to all who silently look. xoxo

The Way, Monotype of the Day #451

Day 85 of Year 2 (Actually Day 86)

I had a lot of fun making this monotype tonight. I'm not usually aware of having fun while working, it's more of a meditative state. But I think playfulness is important. It's another way to set the ego aside and let what comes come. The second image is a picture of the plate just before I printed this image in the comments. I thought you might find it interesting. xo

What Harbinger?
By Denise Levertov

Glitter of grey
oarstrokes over
the waveless, dark,
secretive water.
A boat is moving
toward me
slowly, but who
is rowing and what
it brings I can’t
yet see.

From Sands of the Well https://amzn.to/31UnwTI

empty, Monotype of the Day #449

Day 83 of Year 2 (Actually Day 84)

This piece feels undone to me but every time I tried to add something, it did not come. I've gotten much better at following directions so I was able to leave it even though it was the last thing I wanted to do. Looking at this monotype is uncomfortable, it feels messy and unfinished. My ego definitely didn't want to post it. 🙂 Then I realized this is moment of emptiness and uncertainty just before becoming, just before new arrives. This piece is holding the space void of myself, empty of ego, that allows for rebirth. The discomfort comes from not knowing, the strength comes from waiting. Things will unfold in their own time. I can sense them lingering just outside of the frame, dancing on the edge of my vision.

gliding, Monotype of the Day #446

446.jpg

Day 80 of Year 2 (Actually Day 81)

I really wanted to make a tree in this boat tonight. It wouldn't come though so, I submitted to the direction given. I hope (and sense) this boat is headed somewhere important. It's definitely on the move anyway. Movement brings change which is the essence of life and especially life in the studio. Why are we here if not to embrace life?

Autumn Moon
By Basho, Trans. Stryk & Ikemoto

Autumn moon,
tide foams
to the very gate.

From Zen Poetry https://amzn.to/2nvqejW

tree, Monotype of the Day #445

Day 79 of Year 2 (Actually Day 80)

Something is unfolding here. The fiery boat is evolving. I am looking forward to seeing where this will go.

Can You Imagine?
by Mary Oliver

For example, what the trees do
not only in lightning storms
or the watery dark of a summer’s night
or under the white nets of winter
but now, and now, and now – whenever
we’re not looking. Surely you can’t imagine
they don’t dance, from the root up, wishing
to travel a little, not cramped so much as wanting
a better view, or more sun, or just as avidly
more shade – surely you can’t imagine they just
stand there loving every
minute of it, the birds or the emptiness, the dark rings
of the years slowly and without a sound
thickening, and nothing different unless the wind,
and then only in its own mood, comes
to visit, surely you can’t imagine
patience, and happiness, like that.

From Devotions https://amzn.to/2nlMY5J

Tunnel of Love, Monotype of the Day #444

Day 78 of Year 2 (Actually Day 79)

I'm sort of obsessing on this fiery boat right now. It's meaning is not clear to me yet. I'm also using a smaller plate (8"x10") and that makes the experience of working more intimate and focused. There is less space for distraction and overworking. Switching it up is a necessary part of a healthy art practice. Ruts lead to droughts. Wishing all those who celebrate a very healthy and sweet New Year. xo

burning, Monotype of the Day #443

Day 77 of Year 2 (Actually Day 78)

Gitanjali 37
By Rabindranath Tagore
I thought that my voyage had come to its end at the last limit of my power--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 when the old tracks are lost, new country is revealed with its wonders.

From Gitanjali https://www.amazon.com/Gitanjali-Collection-Laureate-Rabindranath-published/dp/B00E329VWO/ref=as_li_ss_tl?crid=3CZMIOSLAXSGO&keywords=gitanjali+by+rabindranath+tagore&qid=1569731906&sprefix=Gitanjali,aps,206&sr=8-9&linkCode=sl1&tag=artofthespi-20&linkId=792da1d92aa91214ced575ea7d2e3c19&language=en_US

crack already, Monotype of the Day #440

Day 74 of Year 2 (Actually Day 75)

So many things are cooking in the studio I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed. Because I am still recovering from my trip to drop my son at college, I am resting more than I'd like. Recently a friend told me that even with all my health challenges, I get more done than many people. I'd like to believe it's true, but it's hard to feel it when projects that could be moving forward quickly inch along. Everyday, I press forward with my work. Some days it's easy and a joy, and some days it's by sheer will alone anything gets done. Still the minutes on difficult days add up to hours over all, things move forward, and I am grateful. I know that the flow of work carries me forward. Some parts of my stream are wide and slow and some narrow and fast. Patience and faith in process are what is needed.

Sonnets to Orpheus (Book 2, XXIX)
By Rilke, Trans. Barrows & Macy (Link to book below)

Quiet friend who has come so far,
feel how your breathing makes more space around you.

Let this darkness be a bell tower
and you the bell. As you ring,

what batters you becomes your strength.
Move back and forth into the change.
What is it like, such intensity of pain?
If the drink is bitter, turn yourself to wine.

In this uncontainable night,
be the mystery at the crossroads of your senses,
the meaning discovered there.

And if the world has ceased to hear you,
say to the silent Earth: I flow.
To the rushing water, speak: I am.

From In Praise of Mortality: https://amzn.to/2lhW3eS

stepping out, Monotype of the Day #439

Day 73 of Year 2 (Actually Day 74)

A new color ink came in the mail today. A sort of rose madderish red. It's always fun to push myself with something new. It got in the way of my flow tonight though. I felt stuck in the middle of this print which isn't common. I like this concept but I think it needs another draft. I hope it comes again tomorrow so I can work it some more. The past few weeks have been so busy. That combined with working some of my larger pieces for my show in January has limited my time in front of my printing plates. I hope to get a larger block of time this weekend to really let things unfold. Sometimes I'll make three or four versions of the same image until I hear it sing. It's like an internal harmony or vibration that comes through and you know you've hit it.

The Granary
By Dorothy Walters

I Know,
you want to speak,
you hovering overhead,
waiting.

All right, I say,
let the words come.
Let them flow
like grain from the granary bin,
streaming in torrents and waves,
rushing to return
their gold to the sun.

From Marrow of Flame (Such a wonderful book of poetry!) https://amzn.to/2mwOEIK