Day 361 of Year 2 (Actually Day 1 of Year 3)
Two nights ago I put a lot of ink on my plate and was able to take a few ghost prints. It was fun working with them as a base last night and tonight. The images turned out quite differently despite their similar start. I have one more ghost, I'll see if I am moved to use it again tomorrow. For now, I am so grateful to have my work, this window, to see beyond myself or is it through myself into mystery.
Day 360 of Year 2 (Actually Day 365)
The Guest House
By Rumi, Trans. Barks & Moyne
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
From the Essential Rumi https://amzn.to/2OiRX0L
Day 359 of Year 2 (Actually Day 364)
One year ago I made my first boat fire image. Looking back on photos of that print (sold for a while), I find myself as fascinated as ever by it's symbolism. Last year's print was calm and peaceful, this year the waters are rough, but still there is a sense of hope. This print is a message telling me to take heart. My vessel may be small and insignificant in the vast sea, but the way is lit and the fire is strong. Wishing you many blessings. xo
Day 358 of Year 2 (Actually Day 363)
Of all that God has shown me
By Mechtild of Magdenburg, Trans. Jane Hirshfiled
Of all that God has shown me
I can speak just the smallest word,
Nor more than a honey bee
Takes on his foot
From an overspilling jar.
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/55266/of-all-that-god-has-shown-me
From Women is Praise of the Sacred https://amzn.to/2W9x1xz
Day 357 of Year 2 (Actually Day 362)
I did a very light white and yellow layer over the ghost from last night but I wish the white ink was more opaque. Art materials have a will and vision of their own and often t is at odds with what the artist wants. It can be an ongoing battle, a conversation, and sometimes even a surrender. Artist materials ground and connect us to the physical world. They remind that we are physical beings that live in the present moment. This is why I try to listen to my materials and partner with their purpose rather than resist. Surprising things happen at the meeting point of divine creative flow and the material world. The artist is the cauldron where these two determined energies mix and are transmuted into one.
Day 356 of Year 2 (Actually Day 361)
Day 356 of Year 2 (Actually Day 361)
I had a break though tonight. The piece is fine, but what happened in my mind was important. The number one limitation on any artist is their mind, the unconscious rules that shape our actions. This is particularly true in printmaking. The plates must be lined up, no marks on the paper, etc. etc. etc. Somewhere in my head, I decided I couldn't add more color to a print unless it was printed with a plate. Tonight I painted in a touch of color on this print to wake it up. It's a surprisingly small thing that has the potential to transform the way I work. Will it? I don't know, but anything that breaks through the hold the mind has on possibilities is a good thing.
Day 355 of Year 2 (Actually Day 360)
I haven't had much energy the past week. Life is full of choices but when your energy is limited your choices are like a knife slicing away parts of life that you love. Over time I've made peace with this aspect of my journey though sometimes, it's still not easy. In the US we are doers, but the beauty of my situation is in learning the power of being. Being is the place where creativity lives, where we find the ground from which all things must grow. Even unwanted pauses allow space for new ideas, work, or directions to root. I turn to tonight's poem (which I have posted before) to remind we of this because it's easy to forget when you desire to do but cannot.
Gitanjali #81
by Rabindranath Tagore
On many an idle day have I grieved over lost time. But it is never lost, my lord. Thou hast taken every moment of my life in thine own hands.
Hidden in the heart of things thou art nourishing seeds into sprouts, buds into blossoms, and ripening flowers into fruitfulness.
I was tired and sleeping on my idle bed and imagined all work had ceased. In the morning I woke up and found my garden full with wonders of flowers.
From Gitanjali https://amzn.to/38iqHao
Day 354 of Year 2 (Actually Day 359)
Day 353 of Year 2 (Actually Day 358)
Day 352 of Year 2 (Actually Day 357)
Day 351 of Year 2 (Actually Day 356)
Just to clarify last night's post, I am not stopping my daily posts when I hit day 730 (2 years). I'm reexamining the project as a whole to see what it has meant to me, my process, and my growth as an artist and person. I'm considering if I want to continue it as is or if I want to change the scope or restructure. Yesterday someone suggested taking one day a week to focus on a different type of art, could be interesting. It's brainstorming time right now and I may or may not change a thing. I'm open to suggestions and in the end I will see what inner nudges I get on year 3, day 1 and proceed from there.
xo
Your Boat, Your Words
by Pat Schneider
Your boat, they will tell you,
cannot leave the harbor
without discipline.
But they will neglect to mention
that discipline has a vanishing point,
an invisible horizon where belief takes over.
They will not whisper to you the secret
that they themselves have not fully understood: that
belief is the only wind with breath enough
to take you past the deadly calms, the stopped motion
toward that place you have imagined,
the existence of which you cannot prove
except by going there.
From Writing Alone and With Others https://amzn.to/2BBli3V
Found on Poetry Chaikhana http://www.poetry-chaikhana.com/Poets/S/SchneiderPat/YourBoatYour/index.html
Day 350 of Year 2 (Actually Day 355)
“And now I understand something so frightening & wonderful-
how the mind clings to the road it knows,
rushing through crossroads, sticking
like lint to the familiar.” --- Mary Oliver, Blue Pastures (found on Good Reads)
Only 15 days to two years of this monotype of the day project! It's time to reassess. Where do I go from here? Continue, stop, or reimagine? Some days I think of expanding this project to include other types of work like painting or sculpture, more of a daily art post. Other days, I want to keep the stream to monotypes because this project is like a daily journal and I enjoy seeing my progression over time. A few months ago, I was looking forward to stopping at two years, I felt frustrated and blocked. But I stayed through that intensely uncomfortable feeling and now I know I must go on. The idea of stopping feels like tearing a piece of my life force away. I would love to hear your suggestions / thoughts on how to proceed from here. Continue with monotypes or expand to more types of art? xoxo
Day 349 of Year 2 (Actually Day 354)
This piece is speaking deeply to me tonight. I've paired it with a poem I love, Annunciation by Denise Levertov, about the courage to embrace and accept moments of great change in life. It's long, but worth it, the kind of poem that gives courage. xo
Annunciation
By Denise Levertov
We know the scene: the room, variously furnished,
almost always a lectern, a book; always
the tall lily.
Arrived on solemn grandeur of great wings,
the angelic ambassador, standing or hovering,
whom she acknowledges, a guest.
But we are told of meek obedience. No one mentions
courage.
The engendering Spirit
did not enter her without consent.
God waited.
She was free
to accept or to refuse, choice
integral to humanness.
____________________
Aren’t there annunciations
of one sort or another
in most lives?
Some unwillingly
undertake great destinies,
enact them in sullen pride,
uncomprehending.
More often
those moments
when roads of light and storm
open from darkness in a man or woman,
are turned away from
in dread, in a wave of weakness, in despair
and with relief.
Ordinary lives continue.
God does not smite them.
But the gates close, the pathway vanishes.
____________________
She had been a child who played, ate, slept
like any other child–but unlike others,
wept only for pity, laughed
in joy not triumph.
Compassion and intelligence
fused in her, indivisible.
Called to a destiny more momentous
than any in all of Time,
she did not quail,
only asked
a simple, ‘How can this be?’
and gravely, courteously,
took to heart the angel’s reply,
the astounding ministry she was offered:
to bear in her womb
Infinite weight and lightness; to carry
in hidden, finite inwardness,
nine months of Eternity; to contain
in slender vase of being,
the sum of power–
in narrow flesh,
the sum of light.
Then bring to birth,
push out into air, a Man-child
needing, like any other,
milk and love–
but who was God.
This was the moment no one speaks of,
when she could still refuse.
A breath unbreathed,
Day 348 of Year 2 (Actually Day 353)
Something a little simpler today after so many layers yesterday. It feels like a cleansing breath. For many years I almost exclusively made images of the Annunciation. Then a critique group challenged me to express the same ideas without the religious iconography. This opened a new world. I was using these symbols as a crutch and releasing them caused my work to blossom. Still, the Annunciation continues to fascinate. It contains many levels and meanings and among them, I find a lesson on how divine creativity enters the world. The gift of the creative spark is given to us to nurture. We are not its source, merely its vessel. This is a wonderfully ego-deflating notion. Understanding my small part in the creative process releases pressure. I trust my work has purpose I likely will never know. I express what is given and then go back to work. Everything else is not my concern.