My Art…
Oh so very very true…
Love is elemental, necessary, important even, but art, oh my god. Art is like that crazy boyfriend – hot, then cold, volatile, withholding, abundant, bitchy even. As much as he drove you nuts, you craved, needed, lusted for him.
Art mirrors sexuality – first we start tentatively, gingerly attempting what we long for but aren’t sure how to do. Then we get a taste – oooh, such a sweet sting – and we go crazy for it. There is nothing we won’t do to feed that bitch of a master. We cajole, we sink into oblivion, we beg, we even abandon.
Art tends to sit on the edge of your mind, pushing up on the top of your heart, squeezing out all vision so the tunnel only holds one single thought – create. Make. Do. Be. Express. Expand. And love me…
The muses are often amused at the machinations of humans to create. One must simply get out of one’s own way, and listen. Your art, your passion – it’s yours, and yet its not. It’s connected to the universal mind, the higher consciousness that runs like electricity through us all. You must trust, let go, express, shut the editor off and be. Dive in.
I am both muse and maker. Eventually, the artist understands that they themselves are a complex work of art. For that is the true lesson – not the things created but the process of creation itself, by a human being, aided by the divine.
In Buddhism, one of the paths to Divine Grace is Detachment:
“Eventually we detach from any expected outcome of our activities. This is called detached attachment. It seems paradoxical, but in this form of detachment, the activity itself is the important thing. Being in the moment is the only item of importance. Concentration is so complete that any thought of a goal involving the activity becomes absorbed in the process of doing the activity itself.”
- Thomas Ashley-Farrand
So losing yourself in the work is actually finding yourself. You embody your purpose, your passion, and add to the multiplicity of voices that create from genuine experience.
I embrace and flourish on my path these days. Art is a good and honorable master, once you give over to it.
Peace,
Melissa
