It feels like the time to go back to Cushendall and find photos that depict our work as artists in residence at the Cushendall Tower. Brian erected a tent in the backyard and began serious work on giving birth to his creature.

The drawing of Tiveragh, the fairy hill, was the last in the series “Things Are Alive” (see older blog posts). It was the perfect culmination of the series. It left me at the portal of the mysterious.

Ben was embraced by the musicians in Cushendall. We all felt embraced by the music. In the second photo he is working on our stop motion animation, to be found on the top bar of this blog– “The Creatures of Cushendall.”

Anda masterminded the stop motion animation with the creatures and drew quite a few portraits (see top bar of blog for both– more portraits at andasaylor.com).

Click on the top bar of this blog to see “The Creatures of Cushendall.”

MORE FRIENDS TO COME…

The following quote articulates what I have known (as we used to say, “on some level”) about this journey called “On the Way to Cushendall.” I like it that the journey retains its title because, returned from Cushendall, I continue to discover the contents of the treasure chest that that Cushendall holds for me.

Self-discovery is about opening to the mystery– knowing less about yourself, not more… The experience of facing the unknown and allowing a world to arise from the void is the the ultimate act of creation. And the self that is revealed in this movement is not defined or limited by the content of the painting. The painting is merely the vehicle that brings form to the creation. That discovered self is that indefinable presence that is unveiled as you travel and encompass more and more of your inner experience. The paintings are just impressions, tracks left along the riverbank. You have already moved on. To identify yourself with the paintings rather than with the movement is to deny who you really are.

— Cassou and Cubley, Life, Paint and Passion: Reclaiming the Magic of Spontaneous Expression

It’s important to remember that we all have magic inside us!

— J.K. Rowling (via Jenny Norris)

When out of world-wide spaces

The sun speaks to the human mind,

And gladness from the depths of soul

Becomes, in seeing, one with light,

Then rising from the sheath of self,

Thoughts soar to distances of space

And dimly bind

The human being to the spirit’s life.

— Rudolph Steiner, Calendar of the Soul (Easter– April 7-13)

This from Rhonda Johnson:

WORD FOR THE DAY
Friday, Apr. 6
Hold on to what is good, even if it is a handful of earth. Hold on to what you believe, even if it is a tree which stands by itself. Hold on to what you must do, even if it is a long way from here. Hold on to life, even when it is easier letting go. Hold on to my hand, even when I have gone away from you.
Pueblo Blessing

This morning, my nature meditation took a new turn. In contrast to yesterday’s meditation which gave me an expanded awareness (see yesterday’s post), I was drawn to notice small and momentary details. Each small detail was what I would call “ensouled.” I found that my heart was in each tiny detail that I perceived. Often there is a tendency to associate details with coldness of heart. This was a whole new world revealing itself to me. I have a tendency to be drawn to the larger picture, the sweeping nature of things. Yet here I was given the experience of seeing details from the heart.

The flash of sunrise on a UPS truck, a duet between chickadees, the needles shed by our Christmas tree in the snow bank along the front walk (revealed as the snow melts). These were some of the ensouled details contained within the five minute meditation of seeing with the eyes of the Heart.

It makes me think of Natalie Goldberg’s oft-repeated injunction regarding writing practice: “Caress the divine details.”

http://www.nataliegoldberg.com/

I also think of the fairy tale of Red Riding Hood. Remember what the wolf-disguised-as-Granny says? “Grandmother, what big eyes you have!” “All the better to SEE you!” The result of this totally sensory seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting? We all know what happened to Little Red Riding Hood!

She was cut out of the wolf by the huntsman, though. I used to be afraid to really look, because of the wolf! The huntsman has appeared! I am climbing out of the belly of the wolf.

“Travelers, there is no path, paths are made by walking.”

— Antonio Machado

I am partway through the 4th drawing and I am reminded of the truth of this statement. It would be easy to do something just to finish it with something “canned”. But I must allow it to grow organically– and also not worry about rough edges.

My morning nature meditation made me aware of how normally the boundaries of my awareness  coincide with the immediate space my physical body inhabits. I react to the space I am in at the moment– the people, the temperature, a stumble on the stairs.

This thought came to me because the dawn nature meditation created an experience in me of  an expansion of being. The flatness of the light of the cloudy morning left me less riveted to details and I was invited to be aware of a much larger space. I recalled Mr. Bennett’s meditation on air– something that has become part of me.

http://www.gurdjieff.org/bennett.htm

When I went inside to meditate in the meditation room, I found that I could “go” to the far cliffs of the Turnagain Arm that I had drawn yesterday. Yesterday when I was drawing they seemed so tiny. Yet, sitting for meditation with the awareness of an expanded periphery,  I found that I could “be” there at those cliffs.

Of course, this is what storytellers do all the time– they go to places in their minds when they tell stories. Somehow this experience may help me to continue with my drawing and allow it to “speak.”

You can copy and paste this to watch it. It provides a perspective on art and inspiration that is at the same time ancient and radical to modern thought.

http://www.ted.com/talks/elizabeth_gilbert_on_genius.html

Elizabeth Gilbert muses on the impossible things we expect from artists and geniuses — and shares the radical idea that, instead of the rare person “being” a genius, all of us “have” a genius. It’s a funny, personal and surprisingly moving talk.

The author of Eat, Pray, Love, Elizabeth Gilbert has thought long and hard about some large topics. Her next fascination: genius, and how we ruin it.