It seems I've been saying this a lot lately. The world continues to grow more puzzling by the day; the future seems more uncertain than it has in a very long time. Things you thought could never happen, well - they have, and they are. Still, the world is full of good people; the amazingly selfless things they do often take me by surprise. Perhaps they are angels in disguise. You never know.
One evening an old Cherokee told his grandson about a battle that goes on inside people. He said, “My son, the battle is between two wolves inside us all.” “One
is Evil – It is anger, envy, jealousy, sorrow, regret, greed,
arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride,
superiority, and ego. “The other is good – It is joy,
peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy,
generosity, truth, compassion and faith.” The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather: “Which wolf wins?” The old Cherokee simply replied, “The one you feed.”
Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front (excerpt) By Wendell Berry
Denounce the government and embrace
You need to make a commitment, and once you make it, then life will give you some answers.
Les Brown
Read more at: https://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/answers.htmlDenounce the government and embrace
the flag. Hope to live in that free
republic for which it stands.
Give your approval to all you cannot
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man
has not encountered he has not destroyed.
Ask the questions that have no answers.
Invest in the millennium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.
Say that the leaves are harvested
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns....
... Put your faith in the two inches of humus
that will build under the trees
every thousand years.
Listen to carrion – put your ear
close, and hear the faint chattering
of the songs that are to come.
Expect the end of the world. Laugh.
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though you have considered all the facts....
I have no answers, but this, one of my most favorite poems by my favorite Kentucky writer Wendell Berry, makes me feel there may yet be reason to hope...
Recently, in the midst of several straight days of persistent rain and ugly grayness, the sun unexpectedly came out. I had all but given up on seeing the sun when a hole in the clouds, I suppose, had allowed it to peek through for a few short moments.
The quality of the light was eerie, and impossible to describe in words. I ran outside with my camera, not wanting to miss the opportunity to photograph the weird light. After about the 5th shot, the light was gone.
It occurred to me that this two-minute experience was a pretty good metaphor for life. Maybe not as good as "life is like a box of chocolates", but still. Just when it seems the darkness will never end, the light appears. When you're immersed in darkness, it's easy to miss it; we tend to see what we think we see, and habit is a powerful force. Things can change in a flash, when you least expect it.
If my metaphor is too obtuse, or too blatantly cliche, all I'm saying is this: when the stress eases a little, and you have a few spare moments, grab the opportunity. I was beginning to doubt that the opportunity to make art would ever come again. I don't mean to be preachy or over-dramatic, but I need to remind myself that the habit of not not making art can be overcome- I hope.
Hey; long time, no blog! I have been very busy the last few weeks, working on my submission for Seth's book, with which most of you are probably familiar (correct grammar just for Rice!). That, along with holiday stuff, has taken up all of my time, including some of the time I would normally spend eating, sleeping, or going to the bathroom. The deadline for submissions was yesterday, the last day of 2010, which seems fitting. It feels like the completion of something important, which it was. So now I'm ready for the new year, and I wanted to share a few thoughts with you.
The designation of January first as the beginning of the year is, of course, arbitrary; in fact, in many cultures and traditions throughout the world, it has, and in some cases still does begin at completely different times. But to us, and to all the places in the world that have adopted our system, (whether they wanted to or not), this is the day. We humans are inclined to measure things- to divide the passage of time, for instance, into hours, days, months, years, and centuries- for the sake of organization, and to the provide the order and commonality so necessary for the existence of society. And it does, after all, take 365.25 days for our planet to orbit the sun, so we had to mark it somewhere.
Consequently, to most of our brains, this is the first day of the new year. Mentally, we can wipe the slate clean of last year, and potentially, make the next chapter whatever we wish. (I know, I'm mixing my metaphors here, but whatever- you know what I mean, right?) The future is like a clean, white sheet of paper, waiting for us to make our marks. I'll organize my studio, making space for new ideas, attempt to adopt a new attitude about my job, and consider where I want to go next, looking forward to the new year. I'm hoping that all of you are doing the same; my wish for you is that this year will bring to you all that you hope for.
HAPPY NEW YEAR!
Astral Journey
Where do we go from here?
p.s. On a different subject entirely, I just wanted to add a note about the whole "answering-comments-on-your-comments-page-versus-with-personal-emails" thing. I've asked for opinions before, and have thought about it off and on since then, and have come to sort of a conclusion. I've noticed that a lot of you have switched to the "no-reply-at blogger..." instead of your email address. Personally, I prefer to respond to comments through individual emails, and here's why: I don't think you can really connect with someone by posting a short response on your comments page. You don't have the opportunity for that back.and-forth exchange that can lead to real friendship. I like those conversations that give us the chance to get to know someone better. Also, it's so much easier to answer when all you have to do is click "reply". So, I will try to go back and respond on my post's comments, but I'll almost always answer if you have an email address I can reply- er, to which I can reply. Occasionally I forget, but I'm only human.
... in my gardens. It's that time again. Time to plant the hopeful seeds, to lay them down in a bed of soft, warm soil, to nurture them and wait for nature's blessings. To begin again, again.
It occurs to me that part of the magic of Spring is that we're given the gift of another chance. In an existence where there are few "do-overs", we can start over once again. Reminds me of a Chicago song, "Listen, children, all is not lost, all is not lost..." It's all about hope.
The onion sets are in, and the strawberries.
But my flower beds are looking pretty bad. Yikes- they could use some work! I hope I'll get them cleaned out today!
In the meantime, here are some of the flowers currently on display...
One of the primary symbols repeated throughout my workis that of the seed.
Germination 2 by S. Davidson
I'm sure the connotations are pretty obvious, but especially at this time of year I'm reminded of the seed's message. All of nature, where I live at least, has placed every bit of its energy and hope for the future inside a magical little package.
Nature has complete faith in this tiny, unassuming container of potential. Doubt does not exist.
But for us short-sighted humans, it's different. I clearly remember when I learned about seeds. I was six years old, and we had just moved into a new house. My grandmother, who I generally followed everywhere, gave me some tiny, funny-looking, dried-up brown things and showed me howto stick my finger into the dirt, put the seeds in the holes, and cover them up. When I expressed my puzzlement at this, she told me something that seemed absurdto my six-year-old brain: these little brown things would turn into flowers!I was skeptical. I guess, being outside of my very limited realm of experience, this just didn't seem possible.
Boy, was I surprised when, a couple of weeks later, these things had turned into marigolds!This cemented my belief in the powerful magic of seeds, right then and there.
At this point in the cycle, nature is once again sealing up her little packages of magic, knowing that they will come to fruition in their time. To the universe, waiting is nothing. For me, it's a little harder, but I'm trying to learn. I'm planting my seeds, and waiting. I have to believe that faith and patience will eventually produce beautiful blooms.
Secret Garden by S. Davidson
The waiting is the hardest part; every day you see one more card. You take it on faith, you take it to the heart. The waiting is the hardest part. -Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers
This is a piece that I finally finished after several re-workings. I think I washed the figure off and started over at least 3 times; hence, the title. I probably should have just given up, but I guess I'm not made that way. I'm very stubborn about certain things, which can be good or bad, depending on the timing and circumstances. I always tell my students, though, that perseverance is the key to success. As Einstein said, "Genius is 1% inspiration and 99% perspiration." There's a lot of perspiration in this piece, and I'm NOT re-working it again! (Even I have my limits.)
I think it has a very 'fairy tale' kind of feeling. Fairy tales were a favorite reading matter for me as a child, and the illustrations from those stories have had a substantial influence on my artistic expression. When I was growing up, I often drew princesses, knights, horses, and dragons, which I would then cut out and play with, creating my own imaginary world.
The story of Icarus has always fascinated me. Of course, you could get into some really deep and complicated psychological and archetypal analysis here, but I'll leave that to Carl Jung and Joseph Campbell. In many paintings of this subject, Icarus is seen falling into the ocean after flying too close to the sun, and my first version of this piece focused on that moment as well. But then I thought, why not go back to the point BEFORE he took flight, when any outcome was still possible? Why not; it's my imaginary world, isn't it? And so, Icarus is reborn, just at the moment of hope.
Spring in Kentucky is indeed "a wonder", as people say. It is mercurial in its swift changes from summer-like warmth to damp cold, bright sun to sudden, dark storms.
I love the strange light that turns my simple yard into a scene from another planet,
the drama of advancing storms,
the moment just before the rain begins,
the sense of being given another chance, another season to grow.
Though none of my work could be considered 'political' in any way, I felt the need to commemorate the extraordinary times in which we find ourselves living. In particular, I wanted to honor the great Dr. Martin Luther King, who envisioned this day before the rest of us could. Our hope now resides in a man who has the courage to take on the heavy burden of attempting to lead us out of this fearful time. May all that's holy protect and inspire Barack Obama, our new president. I put together some images of a few small parts of this country that I consider worth preserving. Peace.
