Day 35 of Year 2
Most of my work depicts an internal landscape even when it looks like a traditional rendering of the external world. I have had an exceptionally busy week. The noise from the grit and grind of life sometimes drowns out the inner voice an artist needs to hear to work. When that happens, an image of emptiness and quiet like this one is salve to a disordered mind. It acts as promise of what can be and also a remembrance of that deep interior spaciousness that allows the creative flow to come through. Images can hold the power to change and reorder energy. Many times it doesn't matter whether an image is "good" or "successful" as an independent work of art. A working artist will make hundreds of images. Some of them will be successful in terms of color, composition, etc., some will be successful because the change their maker even if visually they are not as strong, and some will do both. This is why I try to reserve judgement while working. Later after the work rests I can see more clearly what type of work it is. For tonight, it is enough to see and experience the empty space in this piece and to feel it shifting my internal landscape to a more peaceful place.
When I Met My Muse
By William Stafford
I glanced at her and took my glasses
off—they were still singing. They buzzed
like a locust on the coffee table and then
ceased. Her voice belled forth, and the
sunlight bent. I felt the ceiling arch, and
knew that nails up there took a new grip
on whatever they touched. “I am your own
way of looking at things,” she said. “When
you allow me to live with you, every
glance at the world around you will be
a sort of salvation.” And I took her hand.