Art doesn't change a damn thing in this world.
Making art, though, requires you to give your full attention. So does viewing art.
Careful awareness of minute details and their relationships to everything else can change the world.
Paying attention changes the world by allowing us to be present with what is, exactly as it is.
Vulnerable, willing to NOT have an answer, just living in our questions.
This practice teaches us to be kinder, less reactive, slower to judge and more willing to listen.
Art allows us our questions, our emotions, and sometimes give us new answers to old questions.
My good friend's son died unexpectedly. He was 42 years old. I've known him since he was 20.
These cones are so many subtle shades of brown and grey, alike yet so different from each other. Slowly fitting one next to the other gave me a measure of peace and acceptance of this difficult situation. I needed a place to stop and hide from the pain. Making this wreath gave me a focus.
An unbroken circle -with a hole in the center.
A wreath seems a physical metaphor for these emotions. A hole in a whole.
The last thing I'm feeling is festive. But I can practice being present- for myself and those I love.
The cones that have been inside the studio the longest easily release their seeds all over the floor.
.... life begins again.
I used this square of plastic grass. coaxing each separate tuft into the spaces between cones.
(Use a chopstick!) A touch of artifice that makes the wreath snap with texture.
And not a touch of Christmas red.
Making art, though, requires you to give your full attention. So does viewing art.
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| Weath by Patrick Gracewood ©2012 |
Paying attention changes the world by allowing us to be present with what is, exactly as it is.
Vulnerable, willing to NOT have an answer, just living in our questions.
This practice teaches us to be kinder, less reactive, slower to judge and more willing to listen.
Art allows us our questions, our emotions, and sometimes give us new answers to old questions.
Like, "How do we live?"
These cones are so many subtle shades of brown and grey, alike yet so different from each other. Slowly fitting one next to the other gave me a measure of peace and acceptance of this difficult situation. I needed a place to stop and hide from the pain. Making this wreath gave me a focus.
An unbroken circle -with a hole in the center.
A wreath seems a physical metaphor for these emotions. A hole in a whole.
The last thing I'm feeling is festive. But I can practice being present- for myself and those I love.
.... life begins again.
(Use a chopstick!) A touch of artifice that makes the wreath snap with texture.
And not a touch of Christmas red.
 |
| On the mantle. "God bless us each and every one" cried Tiny Tim. |
1 comment:
Yes.
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