Thursday, December 24, 2015

Speak, Wisdom

Speak, Wisdom by Melanie Lee



       In her memoir, Returning to My Mother’s House, Gail Straub writes about awakening at a certain age to the creative life, that 'rich realm of feelings and moods, intuition and creativity, stillness and contemplation.' Great description of arriving at Wisdom's Edge isn't it?  I think I'll accept the invitation that came last week to join the Poetry & Art Exhibition at the Sedona Arts Center. A nominal entry fee, a chance to exhibit an abstract and hone the poem I've worked on this year. Why not, new life awaits at Wisdom's Edge....
   
       

Speak, Wisdom

Sometimes the heart shuts tight
  saving itself from further wounds.

Should the latch come loose,
 a commotion occurs,
 it opens again

 a shudder, a bang, a thud, a swoon.
At a certain age

 We know about these things. 

Skittering to wisdom's edge,

wary eyes on raw borders.

Two steps ahead, one half back,

a prancing Cavallino Rampante.

We are still show horses, so

beautiful, strong, proud!



Nearing the edge
 wisdom speaks.

No show horses here,
 just you, just me.

Bodies older, minds slower
hearts a jumble everywhere
  a journey home begins.

Stumbling, recovering, 
receiving, laughing
glad now we couldn't fix that loose latch. 

 So what if our lives look a bit awry?

There's no proper order to love and truth,
Hallelujah.
It is wisdom to believe the heart.

 








Wednesday, November 25, 2015

Meet the Muse: Travel

       
A Trip to Joy
       As the holiday season rolled in this year I decided to try an experiment in fostering joy. "More joy, less oy!" as a Rabbi friend of mine says, was what we needed. Maybe we should re-evaluate the whole idea of gratitude, of mindless participation in the proscribed obligations and ritualistic activity associated with the traditional time of feasting and festival. Pondering why the joy of past holidays often can feel so tempered these days, I concluded that life takes on only the purpose and meaning we give to it and at a certain fork in the road, aka, the second half of life, there can easily arise a sense of discontent. Kids gone, empty nest, health questions, financial plannings, social and political upheavals everywhere... such matters of the heart and soul can, if we let them, weigh upon us heavily, quenching some of the essential joy that's always present if only we recognize it. I wondered if it's possible to create more joy in our lives as an act of conscious will. Can we become mindful enough to recognize and embrace the joyful in whoever we meet, wherever we go, whatever we do?

"More joy, less oy!"
        This experiment in joy involved an early Thanksgiving celebration as we traveled to upstate New York. And because I was looking for it, I found an overflowing cornucopia of people, places and things to celebrate and be joyful about, to be thankful for, lending new meaning and purpose. We visited our grandson for Grandparent's Day at the Darrow School in New Lebanon, New York. Darrow, a 365 acre campus in the Berkshires, sits on a National Historic Landmark where a Shaker community once lived and flourished in the 18th century. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fYi9Vr8bHJY)  (www.americanmusicpreservation.com/JosephBrackettSimpleGifts.htm)



  A Day At Darrow
Shakers shaking
      Grandparents, students, faculty and staff all attended a short meeting with Darrow School Head Simon Holzapfel (www.darrowschool.org) who invited all of us to introduce ourselves with plenty of time for requisite and well deserved huzzahs for everyone's respective grandchild. We then all attended a school wide mediation in the meeting hall. The session was similar to the many Quaker meetings I'd attended back when I was a teenager myself, a time when I was
Established 1787!
searching for my permanent spiritual home. Every now and then someone would stand up, speak their piece, then sit down again. I admit I may have been more impressed with this event than my grandson was.



Where We Ought To Be
Marc Chagall's "Cemetery Gates"
     Next we had a simple, tasty lunch in a clean, spacious dining hall, after which we all got to have our photos made with our grandchild. I fretted and wished my hair looked better, realizing of course that such matters of vanity should probably be set aside at a once-in-a-lifetime event that was already half over. After the photo session, we were invited to sit in on our boy's writing class. The lesson involved analyzing and writing a short narrative on
Marc Chagall's painting of cemetery gates, an interesting choice and one my grandson said he liked. Me too, I told him. Bingo, there it was: Communication +Connection= Joy! A simple but profound gift.  


 A Place Just Right
Watercolor water studies at art reception
     Later that evening we toured the school's amazing art building at a dessert and coffee reception, saw lots of works in progress and learned that Darrow's commitment to art goes way beyond that of many similarly sized and focused schools. Grandson is interested art, which is gratifying because it's one of our passions. When I encountered a group of images, life experience collages created by him and other students,
Black & white sketches in progress at art reception
it was another experience of joy, viewing personal journeys through this medium of artistic expression.

 

 An Unexpected Joy
       What, you may ask, is a bathroom sink doing in a meditative piece on simple gifts? It's not the sink, it's the flowers, fresh flowers in a vase in the ladies' room at the Baltimore airport. Forgive me if I'm corny, but I found this unexpected sweetness to be a true joy for a weary traveler. Yes, Baltimore is having it's trials and tribulations and we all hope the day will come soon when racial and other strife will subside. Meanwhile, to find this light touch of beauty was a most appreciated wonder. And that's not all. At the Albany airport we found a small, artfully constructed meditation room available for stressed passengers, tucked away discreetly by the gate where we waited to change planes. So sweet, so appreciated. Joy often comes on very soft little feet and if we listen and look, it is there for us to behold and embrace.
Meditation Room at Albany airport

We Come Round Right
   We're home again and now you may wonder what  I discovered from my experiment in finding and creating joy. Just this: That when life that has a few more empty spaces than is often comfortable, that space is filled best with a warmth, a sense of comfort, hope and caring that can only come from the love felt in reaching out and touching those you love and cherish. Telling them that while you miss them, you nevertheless honor their separate and often faraway journey to places you never went and will never be a part of, except in a tangential or momentary way. An early Thanksgiving holiday trip encountering new, unexpected and profoundly kind and thoughtful moments created for me a sense of connection vital to making meaning, which in turn created joy. I count my experiment a roaring success.



Tuesday, November 10, 2015

A Divine Abyss







Inspiring wonder
                

   It was overcast, just before the big winter blast as we set out for parts north, wondering how the photos would turn out. The Grand Canyon beckoned last week, it's splendors ready and waiting for us, as it has awaited its millions of admirers throughout the ages.  Walking with maybe a thousand South Rim trekkers hailing from all over the world, I was part of an astonishing display of human beings being...astonished. 



     
Dreamtime Remembered
          I remembered a poem I wrote three years ago,  even more meaningful on this day of  grand visitation. As if in a trance, I entered dreamtime, not even sure I knew what I was writing. What appeared beyond my small self, with no sense of measured control, was a throbbing
connection to a greater voice taking hold.

Surprised by joy

        Today the wild beauty of this ancient place calls forth the same voice. Rational thought breaks down, whole sentences evaporate, words almost fail, only a few remain...surprise, awe, dumbstruck, incomprehensible, wonder, joy, choking, wrenching, holy, beauty, humbling, inspiring, comforting, timeless, refuge.




 Riding a River,  Releasing a Rock

Rapids Ahead by Serena Supplee


Heading down the north fork
on the south rim
of the Grand Canyon
a brilliant moment appeared on the horizon.
A movement,
a star of heaven
descended upon the mountain top
Eureka!
Voila!
Hallelujah! Aha.








Moving down the river
several signposts presented themselves.
How far have you come, how far can you go
they shouted.
Beholding beauty



Does it matter? Isn't the end of things
just the beginning of things
anyway?
Who is to say what
a turn in the river
can mean.

How is it possible to hate those hard, ugly,
hurtful, contemptible, flattening, faceless, 



                                                               jagged, piercing, cutting, wounding,
Hallelujah!
deepening rocks 
whose sole soul purpose is  only 
to point the way home?
Shallow shorelines, empty caves,
Buddha sits and Jesus saves...
move on, move on, move on.
Sometimes things are
just what they are and
can’t be known by a
woman
nor a man 
nor a beast.
The full bodied yowl
of moments too difficult to say
are the stones that find their way
to smoothness
never looking back.  
                                                      
Finding our way home
If you were a stone
now smooth and ready
would you look back?
          You know where you've been,
you know where you're going.
The light hovers closer now leading you home.
                                                                                

                                                                           


Monday, October 12, 2015

Take Me To Marrakech

Photo courtesy Taste of Marrakech




 


     
     A birthday bash is in order, my husband said. Whee!!! I said, as I sat pondering the pros and cons of getting older with wisdom and grace. Where to go? Someplace fancy, one of the resort restaurants? No huge crowds today please. Maybe that gorgeous new restaurant on the hill with spectacular views to the red rocks? Let's consider the budget. How about that interesting new little place down in Village of Oak Creek somewhere...Taste of Marrakech  (www.atom-organic.com). Let's go there, I said. Since moving to Sedona we've tried to embrace living at wisdom's edge, enjoying the simple life and ferreting out people, places and things that reflect a more mindful and measured way of life. Dining out at a restaurant promising tasty bites, tapas style, organic, clean, fresh... voila! It's the perfect place for us to celebrate. Husband signals thumbs up and we're on our way.


This way to heaven

 Found It  
      We headed out for Bell Rock Plaza, husband thinks that's where it is. Hidden away almost, on the side, Aha!  there it was...we spied a blackboard sitting in the parking lot, pointing the way to A Taste of Marrakech, saucy but seriously fresh and fun  Moroccan-inspired, organic street food. Totally my idea of what food should be...healthy, beautiful, enticing and satisfying. This is living and if I can't fly to Morocco this year, here's the next best thing.



Dee Doe, Lucas Sena, Brian Wright
Happy Trio
      Walked in the door, found a tiny little place with a good feel...tables and umbrellas on the patio and inside, four tables with a couple more spots against the wall with chairs (apparently biz is so good they've had to expand already). Very New York. We grabbed one of the larger tables, checked out Marrakech partner/chef Brian Wright, said hi to owner Lucas Sena and his charming daughter as they strolled through the premises, and then here came Dee Doe, a silver haired angel of a waitperson. That's her real name. She is a dog sitter on the side. Bet those dogs love her. She's cheerful and motherly and told us to look at the blackboard menu and she'd be right back. So we looked. Mighty tasty looking fare today.



Just for today.....yum
Tapas & Bites
         After a little back and forth, we settled on fresh green salad with salmon and street tacos with
 lamb, bison and chicken. A little
Salmon salad...fresh!
 eggplant salad on the side. Just water today and holding on for a dessert later. Making this birthday last a long time, may stretch it out for more than a day and come back tomorrow for dessert.
Street tacos: Bison, Lamb, Chicken

 Inspiring Tale
Many happy returns....
       Got it, said Dee as she took our order, back in a flash. While we waited, I got up to read what looked like some kind of letter hanging on the wall. Hmmmm. Owner Lucas Sena had written the story of how Taste of Marrakech came to be. He said his little girl had been ill and they discovered that when they ate fresh,organic and clean, his daughter's health improved dramatically. On top of that, his wife had visited Morocco and been enchanted with the food choices there. In time, one thing had led to another and Sena decided they would open a restaurant dedicated to what Sena calls international cuisine with a Moroccan inspiration. Well, I thought, wisdom's edge is where you find it.
You should get the best....


Amazing Chef
          The restaurant opened about six months ago with partner/chef Brian Wright on board. I chatted briefly with this charming culinary artist and  learned Brian had operated a restaurant in Chicago and like almost everyone who moves here to Sedona, he has a story about starting life anew, finding his way in the wilds and red rock country of northern Arizona. I liked his easy friendliness, those people from Chicago have such great Midwestern charm. We discussed birthdays and he noted  several of his family members had birthdays today. And John Lennon. In honor of which, Beatles music poured from loudspeakers overhead. Loved this, certified Boomer and erstwhile hippie that I am. One of these days when I have time I'm going to go back and visit this merry chef again...talk to him more about how a nice boy from Chicago came....well, you know.

 Fresh Prince
      After we finished the birthday lunch I asked Lucas if that story he'd written  up on the wall
"Mel sent us....."
was true. Of course, he said, you don't make stuff like that up. I like him. Seems real, down to earth. The kind of guy who will tell you if the onions they use are bought fresh and prepped or whether they get them already cut. But you don't have to ask, he doesn't buy them already cut. "Fresh!" he almost shouts when I tell him I like the place and the food a lot. Fresh...clean...I'd say these folks have made it to wisdom's edge and I'm going to be coming back here soon. Tell your friends Mel sent you.




Sunday, September 13, 2015

A Secret Garden




Backyard garden, early Autumn
  
Those who dwell among the beauties and mysteries of  the earth are never alone or weary
 of life. -- Rachel Carson

    We all find our gardens in life where and when we can. Now is the time when I imagine that our gardens have thoughts of summers turning to winters yet to come, of springs to look forward to and then, yet more summers to count on. Somebody asked me the other day about my spiritual beliefs. I thought a minute and said, well,  I think I'm becoming a Pantheist. You see, I think of a garden as a living, breathing sentient something...an entity born and bred and cultivated and nourished with a gardener's love and vision. And I wonder, are we so different from our gardens? Like them, we nourish and are nourished, love and are loved, bloom with beauty, then wither. We go on with varying measures of consciousness through life's seasons, like our gardens. We learn that when one thing ends, we slide into the next thing, and then the next. All of it following like day into night and back again. We learn to look ahead and up for the next beautiful and inspiring moment to gently nudge us on in life's journey. We find places and spaces that help set us on the path to Wisdom's Edge.
     
   Red Rock Gardens
Inscribed rock found at Amitabha Stupa
         Such a place is the Amitabha Stupa and Peace Park (http://www.tara.org/visit-us/amitabha-stupa/) . I found this rock there on our last hike. I thought to myself, why yes, I know what that means. I too feel feelings I forgot whenever I visit that place of beauty in the red rocks of Sedona. The ruggedly beautiful and inspiring Stupa grounds connect with several hiking trails that are easily accessible, free and lead to vistas allowing unobstructed views of what seem like hundreds of strings of prayer flags floating in the air. Open from dawn to dusk, free and gloriously welcoming, this Peace Park is a kind of secret garden offering pilgrims a stellar show of earth's beauties and mysteries. Some have compared it to healing sites like Santuario de Chimayo in Northern New Mexico or Lourdes, in France.
 
Visitors to the Peace Park and Stupa

Prayer Flags Flying
           On auspicious days of the month like full moon  times or in certain seasons, this sacred garden becomes a little livelier with ceremonies, chants and prayer flags ringing out into the rocky red hills that form a kind of natural amphitheater around the Stupa. Traditionally, prayer flags are used to promote peace, compassion, strength, and wisdom. The prayers blown by the wind spread good will and blessings, becoming a permanent part of the universe as the images on the flags fade from exposure to the elements. Then new flags are added alongside the old, a symbolic act of acknowledging life's changes and a greater ongoing cycle for all
Buddha, cairn, flags
beings. When I see a row of flapping prayer flags, I  acknowledge this ancient wisdom and remember I have the power, and maybe the duty, to add my highest and best energy to the store of blessings that have taken wing for the millions who need to receive these prayers. 
 

To The Four Corners
Backyard garden with prayer flags and chimes
        We have prayer flags at home, on our back patio, miniature versions of the flags flying all over the Stupa grounds. I've never written anything on them, when I bought them from the Tibet Center in Santa Fe they came already inscribed. But I know what they symbolize and it gives me a sense of connection with the wider world whenever I 'take communion' with nature in my small secret garden. Like the Amitabha Stupa and Peace Park, our garden is a place to sit, meditate, marvel.  Here is where I go for a sense of a renewal and reconnection. It's not finished yet, my secret garden. There's more to do in the coming seasons to make it the way I really want it. But for now...and here's the secret: now is really all there is...it's perfect.

                     
                         
                                                                                                                       





Friday, August 28, 2015

Life In The Afternoon

     

As transitions take place during our later years, a fundamental and primal shift from ambition to meaning occurs.
--Angeles Arrien, The Second Half of Life


Afternoon Transitions

A brain organoid
      
        Summer's almost gone and I'm writing at the beginning of the full moon in Pisces, when Neptune rules and hazy, foggy moments are abundant. So let's see what sense I can make of the images and themes of ambition and meaning that spoke to me this summer. First there's that little brain organoid. It was grown from autistic patient skin cells in a small Petri dish by scientists so they could study various and sundry brain functions. In a nutshell, what they found was a neuronal imbalance, too much of this, not enough of that. I expect in the future such methods of discovery for all kinds of disorders will become commonplace and we'll all know more and more about how our bodies work. But what I wonder is will we be able to use that knowledge? If we know more about how our brains work can we better our lives and the lives of others? There's actually a whole new burgeoning field of neurobiology and neurotherapy dealing with those ambitious questions. I expect our grandchildren will be the recipients and practitioners of such advanced learning.


 Ambitious Questions
Abstract painting of butterfly wing
             Do you 'spose they will find out things like whether an enhanced sense of the sacred or the beautiful comes with age? Will brain mapping be able to tie together spirit, mind and body? Could we stain brain sections to identify areas that represent the flowering of attitudes, thoughts and feelings? Such things as this, ephemeral and  intangible, would be interesting to see in a Petri dish. But I don't know if that will happen. Maybe these are really matters of the spirit and can't be measured by science at all. Maybe they rightly come to be known to us only after the quest for an authentic life at wisdom's edge. In the afternoon of life at 60, 70 or beyond, it's interesting to realize how very different are our perceptions and articulations about life. After  the folderol of the fifties, the strength of the sixties emerges and then we settle into the seventies. Point of view and perspective on life change. Luck and pluck will give us a sense of who we've been, who we are now and what we can reasonably expect from the rest of life. Still, there are of course, ambitious questions to resolve.


Elusive Meaning

A place somewhere in time and space
 
       For such questions we find ourselves dusting off our tool box of  'stuff we used to do, still do, want to do more of.' You know what I mean, that snazzy set of skills and talents we always fell back on to put order into chaos, find meaning in the unfathomable or even to celebrate the ineffable. Writing happens to be mine. I used to find it thrillingly meaningful to write about things out there... the DJIA, IPOs, REOs and the SEC. Ditto budding entrepreneurs, zany inventors and right livelihood. Then there came the frantic chaos of turning fifty when  the whole world as I knew it ended (I left my job as a business journalist) and I was staring at the prospect of starting all over from scratch. Now I write about things that have meaning in here, things that touch the heart, things I like and find beautiful and inspiring.  Rounding up and integrating the pieces of the life I'd learned with so I could get on with the life I would henceforth be living has been a big job. But after much back and forth and a few false starts, I'm learning to engage the conscious aging process. It's sometimes daunting, often thrilling, definitely perplexing, truly intriguing. I wonder who else is up for this quest. Who's up for this kind of stuff anyway? Who needs or wants to teeter on the brink of a back and forth state of mind looking back and forward at the same time, all the while hearing that waking up, being present to the moment and living in the power of now is really all that matters anyway.  Maybe you want this. If you do, maybe I have something to share with you.



What Matters Most
          I can tell you this: At some point there is an end to the struggle
Huichol yarn painting, Resurrection Bird
to become conscious and present. A shimmering lifeline appears when after due diligence and paying attention to the signs and symbols, a life theme is revealed, intense and richly rewarding in its juicy simplicity. This comes as the editing of the life commences, asking us to keep what matters most while letting go of that gorgeous, precious but now dead memory, that fabulous but irrelevant idea of who we are (or aren't), those cardboard boxes full of, godalmighty-I-can't-believe-I-saved-this, papers and letters from the ancient 1950s. It takes plenty of courage in the beginning to go there, asking yourself to muster enough trust in your  now seasoned self to stand back and whack away, letting go of cherished thoughts and beliefs and creations about who you thought you were, all that stuff you've accumulated along the way and expectations and aspirations for the years ahead. At wisdom's edge is where it all ends. And where it all begins. Our ambition now is transformed and resurrected. To give meaning to our lives and to give that life back to this precious world we inhabit.




Thursday, August 13, 2015

Summer's Crazy Wisdom





 Editor's Picks
      

In the garden of gentle sanity,
May you be bombarded by the coconuts of wakefulness
.  -- Chogyam Trungpa






Crazy Wisdom
           Legend has it that once a sage has passed a certain point on the spiritual journey, all wisdom becomes 'crazy wisdom.'  What I think this means is that the sage has reached the point of knowing that she/he knows nothing for sure and besides, the only things worth knowing were already inside her/him when he was born. Sort of a "it's all here, all now" carpe diem kind of wisdom. I grow more certain of this as time goes by.

Assistant Editor Izzy, ready for lunch break
             The end of summer is a kind of crazy wisdom time...we aren't sweating and sunbathing, neither are we pulling out sweaters in anticipation of cooler days and night. We are in between all that. The liminal time, as the anthropologists say, when we are just here, languishing in the now. What better time to peruse as much crazy wisdom as possible before the season really changes? Though we may be anticipating a bittersweet goodbye to the end of this year's garden we still have a little time until the last rose of summer fades so I say let's all savor this present moment of living, loving, and learning. Here's my crazy wisdom for the moment.


    Matisse
The Purple Robe, Henri Matisse
             I know you have one too, a favorite artist. Matisse  does it for me. Color has become my new best friend this summer,  ever since we took the Beautiful Mess abstract art workshop at Sedona Art Center. Matisse is the master of color and helped establish the post impressionist Fauves –“Wild Beasts”-- known for their wild and unconventional use of color. The abstract art classes this spring helped set me on this path,  I'm discovering what color can mean in a life...from mood to tempo to structure, color can do it all. Matisse's line works show fantastic rhythm and the paper cutouts never fail to inspire me, particularly since he took up this up much, much later in life as a result of impending infirmity and found this was a medium he could still manage. He kept on, didn't let life stop him from embracing it fully as he could until the end.
         Everything you can and should have in a great piece of writing --  point of view, subject, talent, texture, character -- is there in a great painting as well. Sometimes I literally shiver with delight when I'm looking at a Matisse creation. Looking at this right now makes me want to run outside to the garage into my newly created art studio and whip out the paints and brushes. Look, draw, choose, enter, commune....well, you know the rest...crazy wisdom calling!

 Suza 
The New Yoga For People Over 50
       Sometimes crazy wisdom is lurking right around the corner, just open a book and there it is. Suza Francina, 66, is someone I deeply admire and a couple of years struck up a friendly email correspondence with her about her yoga teaching and writing workshops. I visited her studio last time I was in Ojai where she specializes in yoga for Wisdom's Edge-age women. A follower of the late, great yoga master B.K.S. Iyengar, she's quite the mover and shaker in her adopted hometown of Ojai, California where she was at one time the mayor. She's got several books out including The New Yoga for Healthy Aging  which has a dedication page with a quote from Malchia Olshan who reminds us to "Start your morning with yoga, wear beads while baking, make brownies and enjoy life!!" (I did the wearing beads part this morning, I generally do my yoga in the evening and am taking a pass on the brownies). Suza's The New Yoga For People Over 50: A Comprehensive Guide for Midlife and Older Beginners inspires, entertains, uplifts on lots of levels, reminding us all that with a yoga practice, a whole new life can begin. Here's a review:

       Yoga is a gift for older people. One who studies yoga in the later years gains not only health and happiness, but also a freshness of mind since yoga gives one a bright outlook on life. One can look forward to a satisfying, more healthful future rather than looking back into the past. With yoga, a new life begins, even if started later. Yoga is a rebirth which teaches one to face the rest of one's life happily, peacefully, and courageously.
                                     -- Geeta S. Iyengar, YOGA, A Gem For Women



With artist and humanitarian Adele Seronde
 at Sedona Arts Center

Adele
     Adele Seronde is a lovely 90-year-old artist I met last year at the Sedona Arts Center's reception and retrospective of her work. She looks super next to one of her paintings of our red rocks here in Sedona and I was so pleased to have a few minutes to chat with her at the show, she gave me  hope that class, talent, courtesy and generosity of spirit were not things of the past. Renewed my sense that certain individuals who have spent years cultivating a sense of connection with a higher sensibility can make a real difference in the lives of so many. She started Gardens For Humanity and writes searing poetry about her love of nature. That's her book of poems on the stack in the photo up there, Living Bridge. I especially like Sacred Voices, a paen to the red rock country where we live:

Sacred Voices
By Adele Seronde

 I can believe tall spirits touched this sky
tangential to fire and finding it
imprisoned the holy flame forever in these cliffs.

I can believe these mountains cry 
to all the reaching citadels of sun
and hold their bent prism
of rainbow to the storm.
Who are the answering voices of our shadow fate?
Where are the speaking cauldrons of our lives?

I can believe tall spirits cleanse--in torrential rains--
the inertia of our dreams and quiet
the aching Earth
with new fecund seed.


 Paulo       
     My good friend Kris, the artist, kindly sent me a copy of Paulo Coelho's book Aleph, the story of a spiritual seeker's zigzag journey to enlightenment. She was certain I would like it and she was right. Supposedly based on the author Paulo Coelho's own life, this book is a great read, a sort of fictive memoir (I don't know, is there such a genre?) with a solid narrative voice that hooks you from the get go. Sometimes I grow weary of first person 'how it was, what happened, how it is now' tales, but here is a story of the  transformation quest in fictional form and its message has the power to resonate. This excerpt has crazy wisdom written all over it:

        In magic--and in life--there is only the present moment, the now. You can't measure time the way you measure the distance between two points. "Time" doesn't pass. We human beings have enormous difficulty in focusing on the present; we're always thinking about what we did, about how we could have done it better, about the consequences of our actions, and about why we didn't act as we should have. Or else we think about the future, about what we're going to do tomorrow, what precautions we should take, what dangers await us around the next corner, how to avoid what we don't want and how to get what we have always dreamed of. -- Paulo Coelho



Thursday, July 30, 2015

What He Said

 

 

Gratitude is the sign of noble souls. 

                                                   -- Aesop

 
       As August arrives, a certain torpor sets in, prep for fall ensues, raging creativity takes a hiatus and topics warranting a slower, more thoughtful appraisal come to the fore. I'm spending August letting go of being busy but making sure I stay connected to what's important. Fortunately there are those writers whose job it is to keep the rest of us informed, inspired and entertained. David Brooks of The New York Times writing on gratitude is my choice today to keep the creative fires lit for now.

        Always interesting, sometimes profound, often totally off the mark but appreciated for his smooth voice, probing prose, jabbing but never wounding style, this is a writer I admire. Even though he lists right too often for me to embrace wholeheartedly, nevertheless a good writer is a good writer and this time he just hits it smack on the nose. Made me happy he has his bully pulpit and even though some violently may disagree with this take on the topic of gratitude, I'm not one of them. Hope you enjoy this re-post of his column.

     The Opinion Pages | Op-Ed Columnist

The Structure of Gratitude

JULY 28, 2015

         I’m sometimes grumpier when I stay at a nice hotel. I have certain expectations about the service that’s going to be provided. I get impatient if I have to crawl around looking for a power outlet, if the shower controls are unfathomable, if the place considers itself too fancy to put a coffee machine in each room. I’m sometimes happier at a budget motel, where my expectations are lower, and where a functioning iron is a bonus and the waffle maker in the breakfast area is a treat.

         This little phenomenon shows how powerfully expectations structure our moods and emotions, none more so than the beautiful emotion of gratitude.
Gratitude happens when some kindness exceeds expectations, when it is undeserved. Gratitude is a sort of laughter of the heart that comes about after some surprising kindness.

         Most people feel grateful some of the time — after someone saves you from a mistake or brings you food during an illness. But some people seem grateful dispositionally. They seem thankful practically all of the time.
These people may have big ambitions, but they have preserved small anticipations. As most people get on in life and earn more status, they often get used to more respect and nicer treatment. But people with dispositional gratitude take nothing for granted. They take a beginner’s thrill at a word of praise, at another’s good performance or at each sunny day. These people are present-minded and hyperresponsive.
   
        This kind of dispositional gratitude is worth dissecting because it induces a mentality that stands in counterbalance to the mainstream threads of our culture.  We live in a capitalist meritocracy. This meritocracy encourages people to be self-sufficient — masters of their own fate. But people with dispositional gratitude are hyperaware of their continual dependence on others. They treasure the way they have been fashioned by parents, friends and ancestors who were in some ways their superiors. They’re glad the ideal of individual autonomy is an illusion because if they were relying on themselves they’d be much worse off.
   
Golden Nuggets of Gratitude by Kris Bishop


The basic logic of the capitalist meritocracy is that you get what you pay for, that you earn what you deserve. But people with dispositional gratitude are continually struck by the fact that they are given far more than they pay for — and are much richer than they deserve. Their families, schools and summer camps put far more into them than they give back. There’s a lot of surplus goodness in daily life that can’t be explained by the logic of equal exchange.

          Capitalism encourages us to see human beings as self-interested, utility-maximizing creatures. But people with grateful dispositions are attuned to the gift economy where people are motivated by sympathy as well as self-interest. In the gift economy intention matters. We’re grateful to people who tried to do us favors even when those favors didn’t work out. In the gift economy imaginative empathy matters. We’re grateful because some people showed they care about us more than we thought they did. We’re grateful when others took an imaginative leap and put themselves in our mind, even with no benefit to themselves.
                

        Gratitude is also a form of social glue. In the capitalist economy, debt is to be repaid to the lender. But a debt of gratitude is repaid forward, to another person who also doesn’t deserve it. In this way each gift ripples outward and yokes circles of people in bonds of affection. It reminds us that a society isn’t just a contract based on mutual benefit, but an organic connection based on natural sympathy — connections that are nurtured not by self-interest but by loyalty and service. If you think that human nature is good and powerful, then you go around frustrated because the perfect society has not yet been achieved.



"Gratitude is happiness doubled by wonder."
        But if you go through life believing that our reason is not that great, our individual skills are not that impressive, and our goodness is severely mottled, then you’re sort of amazed life has managed to be as sweet as it is. You’re grateful for all the institutions our ancestors gave us, like the Constitution and our customs, which shape us to be better than we’d otherwise be. Appreciation becomes the first political virtue and the need to perfect the gifts of others is the first political task.

    
"Thanks are the highest form of thought...."
    We live in a capitalist meritocracy that encourages individualism and utilitarianism, ambition and pride. But this society would fall apart if not for another economy, one in which gifts surpass expectations, in which insufficiency is acknowledged and dependence celebrated. Gratitude is the ability to see and appreciate this other almost magical economy. G. K. Chesterton wrote that “thanks are the highest form of thought, and that gratitude is happiness doubled by wonder.”  People with grateful dispositions see their efforts grandly but not themselves. Life doesn’t surpass their dreams but it nicely surpasses their expectations.

Tuesday, June 9, 2015

The Painting Lesson






                                                      

"Mere color, unspoiled by meaning, and unallied with definite form, can speak to the soul in a thousand different ways."
--Oscar Wilde        
 


The Intuitive painting class I took last month in Phoenix (see  6/2/15 post,  "Cycles of Creation") produced some interesting moments, resulted in meeting new friends, and captured my 
imagination for what might be possible in the year ahead pursuing a passion for abstract art. I've always learned best by listening and observing. My observations are naturally
very personal and reflect my own esthetic sensibilities, which could very well be
completely different from the artist's own interpretations. But that's what I like about abstract art, there's room for everyone's individual view. The people in my painting class were all teachers in their own way. I'm presenting their paintings today.Thank you everyone!


Melissa (Untitled)


Melissa
     I told Melissa (who by the way was a darling for helping me gather names and emails for this blog project...thank you, Melissa) that her painting reminded me of scenes from my recent trip to Costa Rica. I visited Lankaster Gardens and a small rainforest where the tangled abundance of nature, flowers and animals made a fairly indelible impression. I now tend to see images of colorful birds everywhere I look and could easily pick out a few in her work. I also thought her design was perfect for a fabulous silk scarf or some other killer accessory. I was drooling over her painting and the way it captured a restrained exoticism.



Joyce ("Canyon Ridge")



Joyce
      My photograph of Joyce and her wonderful painting does not do justice to the richness and depth of color and texture in her work. She predominantly used my favorite color (turquoise)  and I was smitten with the intricate layers of color upon color suggesting (to me) caves, caverns and ridges to explore in a midsummer's night dream.It was a painting that called out for many, many minutes of contemplation to explore the rich spaces and places leading to center. And how 'bout those drips? Nice!




Liz ("Hot Music" & "Purple Passion")

  Liz
     I was beset with momentary envy when I saw that Liz had managed to produce not one but two top notch paintings during our class, one warm, one cool. But envy subsided pretty quickly because Liz was way too charming, friendly and talented to be jealous of. I like the way she was able to manipulate shape and design elements while, as the watercolor people always say, 'saving her whites'... that's something I'm working hard on right now. Bravo, Liz!



Sandy ("Open Book")

Sandy
     Sandy's painting showed me how a painting can integrate soft and hard (edges bumped up to gauzy swirls), evoke the whisper of an idea (book), and create interest with one well placed and interestingly shaped swatch of color (ocher, lower left). For me...and this is just my take on it...this is a piece that provides a chance for me to learn by observing, exploring and analyzing the process of how a composition can emerge from a coherent inner vision. In other words, I love the sense of boundaried movement as well as the colors/white space in the piece.


Louis ("Fire And Ice")


 Louis
     Full disclosure here: Louis is my charming and talented husband who loves abstract art and has produced many  amazing pieces which grace our walls at home. He told me he really liked Stan's class  and though he wasn't sure what he was getting into, he ended up liking his painting a lot. Me too. I told him I saw a Georgia O'Keeffe influence, somebody else saw a volcano erupting. Interesting what we see as a result of our own unique experience and perspective. When we got home Louis got inspired all over again with Stan's other technique of 'doodling' pen and ink sketches into a small portable journal. Now Louis is looking at some of the Cubist painters as inspiration  for his daily journal keeping process.






Valerie (Untitled)


Valerie
     Valerie and I laughed when we realized the shot I took of her and her painting reflected almost perfectly Stan's style of painting 'head and torso' (take a look at his website and you'll see what I mean). Her painting was a complete delight to behold because it gave me another way to explore subjects like boundary versus infinity, color blocs, non-traditional focal points, opportunities with white gesso, creating fuzzy edges and more. For me, it evokes a sense of the sky opening up to a stained glass day of beauty and goodness...something about the perceived slants of light from top left, down. The sense of  'salvation' in this work  makes me feel really good...and isn't that what it all comes down to anyway, that old saw:  "I may not know much about art, but I know what I like?"
Suzanne


  Suzanne  (Untitled)

Suzanne was fearless, changing her painting at least three times during the course of the class, which lasted all day. I learned a lot by watching her obliterate a swath of purple, replacing it with a completely different hue that gave a whole different feel to the piece. I thought the Zentangle touch at the bottom of the painting was the piece de resistance, a great addition that provided interesting  and welcome contrast, giving perfect weight to the abstract top third of the piece. 

  
Me

Hmmmmmmm, where shall I begin? My painting started out as a John Marin abstract-inspired piece (see center focal point, the remnants of a pretty nice little forest scene), and ended up as a practice sheet for various techniques suggested by Stan. For example, the gray portions are where I tried out how he uses a special gray gesso he concocts. Ditto the black space. OK, tried it and think I need lots of practice going forward. Think I'll use less next time. Side element is pure black gesso, scrubbed with a large dry brush, then scraped with one of those copper brillo pad things from the kitchen. These machinations produced some interesting texture, with bits of my original forest peeking through. I keep thinking of the long pink and gray swath on the left side as some kind of floaty curtain effect. But then what do I know...in the end it could turn out to be just fruit juice dripping from the raspberry bushes hidden by a rectangular black cloud which is in reality only my black visor hat turned on its side. Ha! 

("On The Side" )


      Well, clearly this painting is one of those 'stay tuned' compositions which will turn into something one of these days that makes sense to me esthetically and emotionally, just not quite there yet.  Working on how to save the red and pink and green flower thing, lower right... this exercise in the imaginative recycling of a creation may turn out to be more fun than doing the original. In the next few weeks I'll revisit this, after I've finished another upcoming abstract workshop at the Sedona Arts Center.   





 Stan Kurth
      To our teacher, Stan Kurth  (stan.kurth@gmail.com),  I say thanks a million for the affordable, inviting and provocative painting workshop. Sharing his captivating approach to intuitive painting through informal conversation throughout the day and an after class analysis was entertaining, instructive and appreciated. Learning about his sketch journaling process was unexpected and very welcome information, something that's given me a whole new perspective on combining words and image. Love having this image of his painting to examine and learn from over the coming weeks.