In the past two years I've been exploring the combination of poetry and art, especially plein air painting. Today's journal gives you an idea of at least one way to approach this rewarding experience.
First, I kept it simple, carrying only a light nylon briefcase with a box of pastels, a 9x12 pastel pad and foam board, a viewfinder, a small notebook, a strip of foam for sitting on rough ground, my Ipod and water. Couldn't weigh more than 2 or 3 pounds.
Pastels are an ideal medium for light transport into out of the way trails where one can be alone with all that is, which is not alone at all. They are also perfect for producing quick and easy results with a vivid, gestural quality that somehow makes it easier not to overwork a piece of art. They retain the spontenaity of the moment of connection with the subject.
With little preparation, I headed into the wilderness north off the main trail, settling on the ground in view of Coffeepot Rock, a favorite subject, with the intent to open my heart and mind to its beauty once more. The spot I found had a nice lead-in for my composition, a wide shelf that emphasized the path leading to the giant butte. To me such paths have an allegorical nature, suggesting the path that we traverse in life as we seek meaning, purpose, beauty and love.
Settling down next to a friendly yucca, I put on my Ipod headset and chose an inspiring album of satsang music, "The Lover and The Beloved," by Donna deLory. It was a tossup between that and silence. But often I find that the combination of conscious, inspired music and nature is ideal for getting into the zone with plein air painting.
As I began sketching with the pastels I asked the Universe-- God-- Life-- whatever you wish to call that from which all arises-- to guide me and help me learn what there was to learn today.
Somehow the feeling and the message I received was an excitement of discovery, of knowing that I am on my right path as I prepare to open my own gallery and further expand my artistic explorations.
Like dictation, the words of the poem came to me, in this case short and simple. I thought of how the butte itself was solid and earthy, yet sits on the verge of the emptiness of space and blue sky.
In the same way, we are always but a thought away from the ever-present nature of the sacred quality of life.
If we but be still and open our hearts.
---------
"On the Verge" can be yours for $450 plus shipping. Please contact me directly if you are interested.
