rising, Monotype of the Day #681

Day 311 of Year 2 (Actually Day 316)

I've been spending a lot of time in the garden this week. It is renewing, new life budding everywhere. I'm particularly taken with the weeds. Unwanted and untended but unstoppable, they will have their say. Their vigor for life in the worst circumstances is admirable and inspiring. This print has nothing to do with weeds or gardens but there is something in both that is deeply hopeful and sustaining like a sunrise. My love to all those who are sick or suffering.

A Purification
By Wendell Berry

At start of spring I open a trench
in the ground. I put into it
the winter's accumulation of paper,
pages I do not want to read
again, useless words, fragments,
errors. And I put into it
the contents of the outhouse:
light of the sun, growth of the ground,
finished with one of their journeys.
To the sky, to the wind, then,
and to the faithful trees, I confess
my sins: that I have not been happy
enough, considering my good luck;
have listened to too much noise;
have been inattentive to wonders;
have lusted after praise.
And then upon the gathered refuse
of mind and body, I close the trench,
folding shut again the dark,
the deathless earth. Beneath that seal
the old escapes into the new.

From New Collected Poems https://amzn.to/2XqlI44

knowledge tree (Monotype of the Day #670)

Day 300 of Year 2 (Actually Day 305)

I remember when I hit day 300 a year ago, it felt like such a milestone. Now in my second year of this project I've hit day 300 again and it feels good but like just like any other day. I've begun to look at these monotype as footprints. I make one each day, like one footprint following the other, and move forward. That's been my motto since I've been dealing with long-term illness, focus on the small steps, the rest is beyond our control. My love to all those suffering or dealing with illness.

"I" ["No, no, there is no going back"]
By Wendell Berry

No, no, there is no going back.
Less and less you are
that possibility you were.
More and more you have become
those lives and deaths
that have belonged to you.
You have become a sort of grave
containing much that was
and is no more in time, beloved
then, now, and always.
And so you have become a sort of tree
standing over the grave.
Now more than ever you can be
generous toward each day
that comes, young, to disappear
forever, and yet remain
unaging in the mind.
Every day you have less reason
not to give yourself away.

From A Timbered Choir: The Sabbath Poems, 1979-1997 https://amzn.to/2YYJXsz. Such a wonderful book of poems!

waiting to open, Monotype of the Day #641

Day 271 of Year 2 (Actually Day 276)

I feel at a bit of a loss in the studio right now. With the puppy, my studio time has been limited and I'm missing that internal spacious where work starts to hatch. I always turn to the Wendell Berry piece below the title when I feel this way.

The Real Work
Wendell Berry

It may be that when we no longer know what to do
we have come to our real work,

and that when we no longer know which way to go
we have come to our real journey.

The mind that is not baffled is not employed.

The impeded stream is the one that sings.

From Standing Words https://amzn.to/34xo8Rm

finding peace, Monotype of the Day #623

Day 253 of Year 2 (Actually Day 258)

I couldn't bring myself to erase that beautiful stripe of pink ink from yesterday's plate so I made it into a tree. What else could I do? 😊I am trying to embrace what is happening right now and take in this pause, so I am going on a daily walk. The streets have a peacefulness usually only experiences on Thanksgiving or Christmas afternoons. Bird song is everywhere. I am grateful for these small moments of beauty in the middle of this storm. My love and prayers to all those who are sick or suffering.

The Best of Any Song
By Wendell Berry

The best of any song
is bird song
in the quiet, but first
you must have quiet.

From A Timbered Choir https://amzn.to/33T0w9x

red handed, Monotype of the Day #569

Day 199 of Year 2 (Actually Day 204)

I am starting a large hand piece and I'm really excited about it. The hand print I made two nights ago has been sitting around in my brain nagging me. Too tight, too controlled. I feel much relieved after making tonight's print. It's so strange and amazing how much these print impact me energetically.

I often choose a poem from a book and then search the internet for it so I don't have to type the whole thing from scratch. This poem has a first part not typed below. Interestingly almost everyplace online left it off and I actually think for this time of year, it's better this way. I'll post it again in summer in it's full form.

Excerpt from Wild Geese
By Wendell Berry

Geese appear high over us,
pass, and the sky closes. Abandon,
as in love or sleep, holds
them to their way, clear
in the ancient faith: what we need
is here. And we pray, not
for new earth or heaven, but to be
quiet in heart, and in eye,
clear. What we need is here.

From The Selected Poems of Wendell Berry https://amzn.to/2OluBYW

space, Monotype of the Day #541

Day 171 of Year 2 (Actually Day 176)

I've been struggling a bit with the monotypes for the past week or so. So much of my energy has been directed to prep for my show that when I get into the print studio, it's been hard to focus. My mind has felt cluttered. I asked for an image tonight to help me clear my brain out and open back up to the creative flow. This simple image came and looking at it, I immediately feel more open and grounded. Deep breath, pause. I will return to work tomorrow refreshed. Today's poem (below the title) is another from Wendell Berry. I just got a new book of his work so I can't help myself! xo

Sabbaths 1992 II
by Wendell Berry

Lift up the dead leaves
and see, waiting
in the dark, in cold March,

the purplish stems, leaves,
and buds of twinleaf,
infinitely tender, infinitely

expectant. They straighten
slowly into the light after
the nights of frost. At last

the venture is made: the brief
blossoms open, the petals fall,
the hinged capsules of seed

grow big. The possibility
of this return returns
again to the seed, the dark,

the long wait, and the light again.

From A Timbered Choir https://amzn.to/35nN4d8

the forest in winter, Monotype of the Day #536

Day 166 of Year 2 (Actually Day 171)

I Go Among Trees
By Wendell Berry

I go among trees and sit still.
All my stirring becomes quiet
around me like circles on water.
My tasks lie in their places
where I left them, asleep like cattle.

Then what is afraid of me comes
and lives a while in my sight.
What it fears in me leaves me,
and the fear of me leaves it.
It sings, and I hear its song.

Then what I am afraid of comes.
I live for a while in its sight.
What I fear in it leaves it,
and the fear of it leaves me.
It sings, and I hear its song.

After days of labor,
mute in my consternations,
I hear my song at last,
and I sing it. As we sing,
the day turns, the trees move.

From A Timbered Choir https://amzn.to/2SFS4qw

the forest at night, Monotype of the Day #532

Day 162 of Year 2 (Actually Day 167)

Sabbaths 2014- VI
by Wendell Berry

Up in the blown-down woods
you try to imagine the tornado
cracking through the trees
while you slept, branches
and birds' eggs whirling
in the dark. You can't do it.
You can imagine the place
as it was, and as it is.
The moment of transformation
the presence of creation,
itself beyond your reach.

From Given https://amzn.to/36azgE5
the forest at night
#monotypeoftheday
Year 2, Day 162
(Total project days 532) 

the sprout, Monotype of the Day #515

Day 149 of Year 2 (Actually Day 150)

“The seed is in the ground. Now may we rest in hope, while darkness does its work.” ~ Wendell Berry

Sometimes it's necessary get out of the studio, take a deep breath, and air out my head. Creativity is a beautiful mystery whose mechanisms are veiled. We aren't meant to know how it works, just to receive and bring that energy into the physical world. Getting out of the studio occasionally disengages the mind and gives space for that mystery to unfold and develop unconsciously. It releases control so surprising things can happen upon returning to work. Like a seed maturing underground, we know nothing of what is afoot until the first shoots break through. That is the beautiful adventure of being an artist.

the sprout
#monotypeoftheday
Year 2, Day 149
(Total project days 515)

the passage, Monotype of the Day #474

Day 108 of Year 2 (Actually Day 109)

When I went to start my print tonight, the remnants of last night's print, specifically the sky and mountains shapes were still there. Something in me couldn't wipe it away so I used it again to very different effect. It made me think of how much is given and how much we willfully refuse to see. It would have been so easy to wipe this ink away instead of allowing it voice. So much of studio practice comes down to listening.


Listen!
By Wendell Berry

How fine to have a radio
and beautiful music playing
while I sit at rest in the evening.
How fine to hear through the music
the cries of wild geese on the river.

From Given: https://amzn.to/2PsMnuv

the beacon at night, Monotype of the Day #472

Day 106 of Year 2 (Actually Day 107)

Yesterday was interesting. Despite my extreme dislike of the print bubbles, it received a positive response proving once again, an artist is not meant to judge the value of their own work. Work flows through and out. Radical trust is required, trust that though an artist may not learn the true purpose of an individual piece, there is purpose. Tonight I needed this red, I felt it warming my chest, giving me life force. It changed me. But I will never know if it has a purpose after it goes out into the world. That has to be okay because the fastest way to block up creative flow is to become attached to certain outcomes. Creative freedom comes from detachment especially detachment from making a "good" work of art. Every work has a purpose whether it is to change the artist, its viewers, or both. Yesterday was a great reminder to trust, turn off the judgement, and turn on the flow.

ALL
by Wendell Berry
All bend in
one wind.
From Given https://amzn.to/2NgLN0dg

the blessing, Monotype of the Day #461

Day 95 of Year 2 (Actually Day 96)

There is a magical air about the studio these days. I made some real progress today finishing up some old projects that have been hanging around. I am so grateful for the help of my studio assistant. I'm also grateful for a person who recently showed up out of the blue with some much needed expertise. He is helping me make a piece I've been dancing around for ages. It's taken so many years to understand that the less I try to force projects to happen, the more things move. Each time I stop myself from pressing against an obstacle with a gentle, "patience Sybil, patience. It's okay not to see the way", something new and exciting opens up.

To Know the Dark
by Wendell Berry

To go in the dark with a light is to know the light.
To know the dark, go dark. Go without sight,
and find that the dark, too, blooms and sings,
and is traveled by dark feet and dark wings.

From The Selected Poems of Wendell Berry https://amzn.to/33MW1wf

in the light, Monotype of the Day #454

Day 88 of Year 2 (Actually Day 89)

I just received a new book of Wendell Berry poems and I found the poem below. There are so many gems in it. The one that stands out the most right now is "There are no unsacred places; there are only sacred places and desecrated places." In the studio the sacred is easily accessed, the veil between worlds pulls thin. But I love this reminder that the sacred is always present and waiting for our awareness. Berry's directions to himself apply to visual artist's as well. One note though, he encourages us to doubt people who like our work. I think he just means keep pushing. No insult to my commenters intended! 😊 xoxo


How to Be a Poet
By Wendell Berry
(To remind myself)

i
Make a place to sit down.
Sit down. Be quiet.
You must depend upon
affection, reading, knowledge,
skill — more of each
than you have — inspiration,
work, growing older, patience,
for patience joins time
to eternity. Any readers
who like your poems,
doubt their judgment.

ii
Breathe with unconditional breath
the unconditioned air.
Shun electric wire.
Communicate slowly. Live
a three-dimensioned life;
stay away from screens.
Stay away from anything
that obscures the place it is in.
There are no unsacred places;
there are only sacred places
and desecrated places.

iii
Accept what comes from silence.
Make the best you can of it.
Of the little words that come
out of the silence, like prayers
prayed back to the one who prays,
make a poem that does not disturb
the silence from which it came.

From Given Poems: https://amzn.to/2AZDS1I

Home at last, Monotype of the Day #426

Day 60 of Year 2 (Actually Day 61)

I've been traveling the past week or so bringing my son back to college and now I'm happily home. It's challenging to print on the road but also very satisfying. I made today's print this morning because I wasn't sure what time we'd arrive home tonight. It felt strange to do that a good 12 hours earlier than normal, like my rhythm was disrupted. I think there is something important to my process in waiting about 24 hours to make each print. It allows time for things to cook internally. I think it effects the outcome. Now that I've done a morning print, I think I will switch to mornings for a while and see if the time of day effects things as much as the waiting period. xo

How to Be a Poet
By Wendell Berry (To remind myself)

i
Make a place to sit down.
Sit down. Be quiet.
You must depend upon
affection, reading, knowledge,
skill — more of each
than you have — inspiration,
work, growing older, patience,
for patience joins time
to eternity. Any readers
who like your poems,
doubt their judgment.

ii
Breathe with unconditional breath
the unconditioned air.
Shun electric wire.
Communicate slowly. Live
a three-dimensioned life;
stay away from screens.
Stay away from anything
that obscures the place it is in.
There are no unsacred places;
there are only sacred places
and desecrated places.

iii
Accept what comes from silence.
Make the best you can of it.
Of the little words that come
out of the silence, like prayers
prayed back to the one who prays,
make a poem that does not disturb
the silence from which it came.

From Given Poems https://amzn.to/2Lqg116

This one I found on https://www.poetry-chaikhana.com/blog/2015/11/06/wendell-berry-how-to-be-a-poet/, but I'm ordering the book tonight!