It’s raining, or something else – the environment around me, affects me. The context within which the art is created – the music, the sounds, the air, the light – amongst the mental context, of wants, interests, inspirations. Fears. And feelings.
How to walk the path, how to climb over the rubble and evade the swords and spears, to take your hand and confidently divert their direction from you, to move forward with an indomitable oneness – so that you can learn! So that you can live.
The one who seeks, will find – no matter how unrewarded their journey may seem. What can save me on a rainy day… What can I reach for and then use to stand up on my feet and walk again… it is so subtle I can barely say. “It’s raining here” – says the artist who paints a loose, effortless, watery image of a silhouette holding an umbrella. With an umbrella, you can go anywhere in the rain, you can walk, experience – really, what do you want, on this rainy day?
Create – Share – Create – Share – tie – tie – create – share – create – tie
The world has now a bounty of art and artistic inspiration – waterfalls of creations and ideas; these waterfalls are beautiful, and healing, and many things. They lead to connections, and these connections then lead to exponentially more newness. some to ruin, some bad, harmful, hurtful – some helpful, strength, building … I am only on a small path. I can barely see the big picture. Are my efforts going into some void… or is there some worth to it, to my endeavor. The art is a waterfall that empties into a void, yes, but the artists, the learners, the people behind the art, they do not follow their art into the void, they stay aloft, they remain after the fact. What does this mean? Is this a reason to stay an artist? What can artists do? A good artist, an artist knows – they know about the human soul, about the material in this world, about concepts and ideas, and how to show and communicate – and perhaps so greatly, how to connect. All the art in the world was only scrap paper, so that artists could do their homework and do the figuring, the understanding and contemplation, to become what they become, to have inside them what they’ve come to acquire. All the art was merely a medium for the real gain, the real treasure. The materials never did matter, not in the face of enlightenment. I could say that the materials never mattered at all, in any context, if not for the wandering eye of the human, the question in the back about purpose… ‘purpose’… But then, that question has never done anything but harm us, hasn’t it? If that question wouldn’t arise, we could just plod along and create, and gain inner treasure indefinitely. Though, would we be able to use that treasure in any way other than a way determined by our history and actions? Could we choose? Ahhh… that’s it…