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 20 Feb 2004 @ 08:57, by amara. Ideas, Creativity
When I started to get into my art I was surprised by two things. First, that I didn't know what anything I made meant until it was done. I just get a picture of something that wants to come out, then towards the end of making it, it has relevance -- usually on several levels (I guess metaphor works that way!).
The second thing that surprised me was how dark my work is and that I like that its dark (I'm a pretty positive and optimistic person, really)...
Take "Mask for Baby." I just started playing with the clay one day, while I was talking with someone. I didn't set out on some massive mask-making project. Picked a convenient size, then realized that I wanted it to be functional. Okay, it's a mask for a baby then. It hit me like a ton of bricks! "What does that mean? Why is that concept tweeking me out? Why would a baby need a mask? They're pure and perfect and innocent. Well, so are we. But it's perfectly acceptable for us to wear masks ..." Mask for Baby. How does it make you feel?
My friend Lillith from Hollywood who really wants to be pregnant totally got it. "You may as well put the mask on it sooner than later, the way this world is," she said. "It's doing to end up with one anyway!" She was actually upset by my art. That was very gratifying. (Another surprise.) --Amara More >
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 19 Feb 2004 @ 10:23, by ming. Ideas, Creativity
Carl Rogers, in an essay from "On becoming a person", titled "To Be That Self Which One Truly Is". Via The Obvious and Older and Growing.Watching my clients, I have come to a much better understanding of creative people. El Greco, for example, must have realised as he looked at some of his early work, that "good artists do not paint like that." But somehow he trusted his own experiencing of life, the process of himself, sufficiently that he could go on expressing his own unique perceptions. It was as though he could say, "Good artists do not paint like this, but I paint like this." Or to move to another field, Ernest Hemingway was surely aware that "good writers do not write like this." But fortunately he move toward being Hemingway, being himself, rather than toward some one else’s conception of a good writer. Einstein seems to have been unusually oblivious to the fact that good physicists did not think his kind of thoughts. Rather than drawing back because of his inadequate academic preparation in physics, he simply moved toward being Einstein, toward thinking his own thoughts, toward being as truly and deeply himself as he could. This is not a phenomenon which occurs only in the artist or the genius. Time and again in my clients, I have seen simple people become significant and creative in their own spheres, as they have developed more trust of the processes going on within themselves, and have dared to feel their own feelings, live by values which they discover within, and express themselves in their own unique ways. Great angle on things. If you only try to do what a good artist or a good writer or a good *something* does, you might well become good, but you probably won't become great, and you won't end up doing what you particularly are here to do. Rather it is about trusting your own process and finding what particularly it is that YOU do, and do that the very best you can. More >
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 16 Feb 2004 @ 18:36, by skookum. Ideas, Creativity
http://www.tartans.com/mesgboard/viewtopic.php?t=3529 it is illustrated a bit here online.. or you can read it here.
The Calaman Stone
I wandered along a wooded lane
My mind empty of all but the crunch of leaves
And the scurry of creatures by the path
There came a whisper through the naked trees.
“It is I. Can you see me? Can you feel me?”
Truly I was imagining this soughing voice.
“Where are you?” I whispered, looking here and there.
“I am very near, very, very near.”
I felt a warm, soft feathery caress
Touching my cold, wind-sore face.
My heart bloomed within me
The fire inside scorching my chest
My feet took me to an ill-used path
That disappeared into a dark wood
Huge stones lined the lonely lane
And the wind whipped my thin coat
“Find me, find me.” The whispers beckon.
A silver shard of light cut into my eyes.
It limned a slight figure fluttering before me.
“There you are.” I thought aloud.
Seeming as if made of snowflakes.
She sparkled and shimmered, her eyes like ice
And appeared to change in feature and form
Whenever she moved or spoke.
I felt her hand in mine and it felt ethereal
It was almost if I took my eyes off her
She would disappear into the mist
Smiling she led me into the blue-white light
The sudden change to warmth left me blinking
In an instant springtime was around me
She changed to a faerie of verdant green
Her eyes now deep forest brown
She led me yet further and I saw the great waters
The streams, and falls and meandering rivers
The impossible green-ness of it all made me weep
“How is this possible?” I asked.
“Anything is possible.” I heard her whisper in my mind.
“There is more.” Then the world around spun into a blur.
Everything was blue, blue-green. I felt sand under my feet.
A water world was the next domain to see.
“I need you to find something for me.” She gazed at me.
“What? What power do I possess that you do not?”
“More than you know, kind Sir.” Her sad eyes now blue.
“I am trapped here, only your spirit is with me.”
“I cannot dwell with my kind, for I am a prisoner.”
I knew her eyes would be weeping, in spite of the water.
“Tell me what to do.” My own fate rested with this quest.
“You must find the Calaman stone, I am trapped within.”
“Where will I find this stone and what does it look like?”
“Look within to find the way, blue it is where it lay.
Before moonrise, or I shall die. Break it on the sacred eye”
She set a shell into my hand, and she was gone.
I stood where I had been, along the path alone.
For surely I had dreamed it all, in my own mind.
I felt an object in my hand, the shell I was given.
I knew then I had to search, for her faerie prison.
That night I dreamt wild, disturbing things
Weeping filled my ears, bringing my own tears
Sitting up suddenly, I saw a small blue light
I shook my head to clear it and the light was gone.
Hastily donning my clothes I went into the night.
The pounding of my heart, led me in desperation.
I ran to the woods to where she had led me.
No light led my way, but I remembered.
The crevice between the stones led to a cave.
The blackness was palpable and moistly clinging
I slipped and found myself in a deep water filled pool
It was freezing and I could barely move.
I saw down below me a faint blue glow.
Diving down to see it, I reached out my hand.
A hard object now glowed in my hand.
It was warm, in spite of the frigid water.
My lungs about to burst I hoped I was rising
Miraculously my lungs again could breathe.
Stone in my pocket I slowly arose from the pool
I fell to my face and slept, numb to the core.
Morning dawned, small edge of light into the cave
Stiffly rising, I stood shakily and went to the light
The red dawn mocked me in its faint promise of warmth
My wet clothes almost froze me as I stood.
I found a flat rock to sit on and took the stone out
It glimmered faintly, blue flashes here and there
I held it up to my eyes, and there she was.
Frozen, as if in mid-scream, my faerie lass.
How was I to free her? I had to act soon.
For it was to be a morning moon this day.
A sacred eye; where could that be?
I wilted ‘neath my frantic fears that filled me.
I walked back through the now wintry woods
Softly reddened by the sun, there a ring of tall black stones
An unknown place before this morn, they hulked around me
I gazed at them, watching the early mists dissipate slowly
Walking around them I muttered to myself
A voice in me shouted, “Stop!”
I gazed up at the stone beside me, and saw a face.
Carved faintly, ominous and unearthly
The eyes were but depressions in the stone
Sacred eye, sacred eye…I took the Calaman out
I heard soft drumming, chanting, and I threw the stone
The Calaman stone broke into blue-fired shards
The ground began to shake and I fell onto my back
I remember no more, as I fell into a deep, black sleep
Awakening, found me back in my bed.
My wet clothes and muddy shoes beside my bedside
Out the window I could see the rising moon.
I went back to sleep, and dreamt of fairyland
My fair blue maiden was dancing with her faerie folk
She smiled at me and kissed me, and then she was gone.
I wander those lonely paths most every morn
A sentimental hope I suppose of a lonely heart
For what mortal can surpass in hope and love
The magic that dwells within us all.
Marissa A Spencer
©January 11, 2004 More >
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 14 Feb 2004 @ 16:57, by amara. Ideas, Creativity
The parts and pieces of this were created spontaneously about two years ago and finally assembled, in its own time, a couple of months ago. It sits in our co-op gallery, High Desert Living Arts [link]a few doors down from our pottery.
I suppose the title says it all -- "Hold it Together." I keep feeling it's not a coincidence it's a woman. Perhaps just projection, but I think there's something more. There's something about the wobble. There's a hope, I think, that with help, even with the wobble, the bowl will be able to hold itself up at some point. More >
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 13 Feb 2004 @ 18:38, by bombadil. Ideas, Creativity
As I walk
down the park,
I see them,
And I watch them,
Bustling,
And fluttering about. More >
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 12 Feb 2004 @ 22:48, by amara. Ideas, Creativity
It seems I've always been interested in the didgeridoo. I had heard just brief references to it in television and world music in my younger years. The sound is captivating and of course, unique. The first time I experienced it live was in Atlanta, Ga in the early '90's. This cat was a really good player, don't remember his name. He had a stack of painted PVC didgeridoos he was selling on the street for $75 - $120. That struck me as absolutely nuts! I don't care what one could do with the tube, it's still just a tube and the art wasn't that kickin'.
Went right home and "built" one, partly out of spite. Saw him a few more times and he helped me get started playing. That was over ten years ago and when I started working in clay and realized I could make a tube by throwing a series of "donut" forms on the wheel and piecing them together, I thought "any tube will do!" And there it was, my first clay didge.
The clay didges have been in development for about three years now and it's been a wonderful tour of sound and form. Most challenging has been how subtle changes in length, width, bell shape, pinches, so many factors can make big changes in sound. It can be baffling. Just when I think I start understanding what does what, I'm usually surprised and find something totally different. But, just like in other realms of my work, the "surprises" usually work out to be better than what I've planned. The trick is integrating those surprises in the next time!
More on the process in future posts.
--Thomas More >
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 4 Feb 2004 @ 18:24, by ming. Ideas, Creativity
Via Dewayne Mikkelson, the principles of how to think like a da Vinci. From Michael J. Gelb's book "How to Think Like Leonardo Da Vinci: Seven Steps to Genius Every Day"Curiosita: An Insatiably Curious Approach to Life and an Unrelenting Quest for Continuous Learning.
Dimostrazione: A Commitment to Test Knowledge through Experience, Persistence, and a Willingness to Learn from Mistakes.
Sensazion: The Continual Refinement of the Senses, Especially Sight, as the Means to Enliven Experience.
Sfumato: A Willingness to Embrace Ambiguity, Paradox, and Uncertainty.
Arte/Scienza: The Development of the Balance between Science and Art, Logic and Imagination. Whole Brain Thinking.
Corporalita: The Cultivation of Grace, Ambidexterity, Fitness, and Poise.
Connessione: A Recognition of and Appreciation for the Interconnectedness of all Things and Phenomena. Systems Thinking. Hey, I'm not doing half-bad on most of these. More >
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1 Jan 2004 @ 17:07, by craiglang. Ideas, Creativity
We just got home from seeing Return of the King. For Gwyn it was the first time she had seen it. For me it was the second. In the last couple of days, we had re-watched the first two movies, and I also looked up a few websites that talked about some of the ideas portrayed in the movie. One of the best is Jay Weidner's website: "Tolkien at the End of Time". It discusses a lot about the history behind the rings, and Tolkien's thinking about the current cycle of history where we presently reside.
In seeing the movie several times, particularly in the context of having just seen the first two again, alot of interesting connections fell into place - some of which had long escaped me. On his site, Jay Weidner discusses the idea behind the third and fourth ages of Middle Earth. In Lord of the Rings, Tolkien presents the tale of the close of the third age (the Bronze age), and the beginning of the fourth age (The Iron age, the age of Men, Power and Machines).
Jay states that this is the age of technology, when the mechanical and technological would be very much dominant over the spiritual and magical. It is the cycle known in Hindu mythology as the Kali Yuga. This age has lasted for the last 6000 years (recorded history), and is the final age of this great-cycle or maha yuga.
In the astrological lore of many cultures: Mayan, Babylonian, Indo-European, etc, the close of the present age occurs at the winter solstice of 2012. At this point, the cycle begins again with the Satya Yuga, or Golden Age. This is the time when Heaven and Earth become close together - and I suspect that it is at the core of most new-age thinking. At this time, humanity again lives as one in a deep spiritual communion with both Earth and Sky. It is the beginning of a long time of peace for all on the Earth.
The time at the close of each age, and especially the boundary between the Kali and Satya Yugas is said to be a time of tremendous upheaval - wars and cataclysms being their main characteristic. And based upon this model, we can imagine that the time of 2010 to 2012 will be an entertaining time, indeed.
In that time, I can imagine that the polarities that make up the Kali Yuga will intensify, until they come to a head at the close of the age. At the end of that time, or at some time around then, the transcendence or enlightenment occurs. Is this the time of the second coming? The time when all humanity (at least all that remains) Awakens? Perhaps. But how many will be here to see the answer?
Many of the prophets have described a fork in the road at about that time. On one path is the path of darkness - which many will choose to take. On the other path, is the road that leads to the light - which others will follow. And in the end, at the close of the age, the two paths diverge, with the path of light leading into a new world.
The Return of the King portrays a fascinating picture of Tolkien's composite of modern/western mythology, from Norse, Germanic and Celtic tribes, as well as a heavy influence from Hindu/Vedic cosmology. It will be interesting to see how this plays out, how accurate this model of history is, as we approach the end of the Kali Yuga - the Iron Age - the age of Machines and Power. More >
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13 Dec 2003 @ 18:07, by sindy. Ideas, Creativity
a joy More >
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 12 Dec 2003 @ 14:00, by sindy. Ideas, Creativity
Words often used (express) by a person(jack) that comes out for another person's (Jill) ear to hear, flows totally different(level) to what jack is saying to Jill...... More >
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