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April 2009

Morning and evening stepping back,
I watch the world turn from far away
then bring the distance home.

Calendars as maps. Today's drawing points to a long stretch of quiet stay-at-home-in-the-country creative time. Looks like a few perfect months ahead.

Flowers and flow. I won't overanalyze this one. The abundance of spring speaks for itself.

A tide of life. Hundreds of yellow dandelions appeared on the meadow this morning. All the blossoms on the cherry tree opened today as synchronized as the fingers of a hand. Queen wasps and ants have made an appearance signaling the start of new colonies. How does this rapid increase in the number of living things alter the collective unconscious?

A finely balanced act. Barely organized groups of tasks. Trying to fit it all together. Looking for some flow.

Self-discovery begins when we redirect our stream of attention to our center.

Layer by layer. Our bodies sense more data than our mind can pay attention to. The high bandwidth sensory stream that sinks into our brain must be edited, filtered and abstracted. We call the resulting bits 'the real world'.

The jewel is the ring. We plan for and anticipate our peak moments. The big event comes and goes. Then another bright spot, then another. What if every step in the cycle was big and bright?

The flower, the flute and the fakir. The first one is posey and seeks attention, the second one spends its life crying for the reed bed it was torn from and the third one only knows itself in reflection. How are they alike?

Petal armor. We shield our soft center while longing to be opened spontaneously. Who do we love enough to cause that?

Elementary exercises. Endlessly mixing colors and shapes mimics in miniature the universe's combinative construction.

A grassy meadow. An inner calm. Sun and clouds. Self-reflection. A passing storm and the clear that follows.

Holding back the tide. We can't stop time and what would be the point of trying? Instead, let's regard time like waves reaching the seashore. The experience of what is already passing before us will swell.

Shifting points of view. Those strangely shaped flat boxes that divide up the image are called phylogons. I consider each one to be a window to a moment of our experience. They carry visual information and other properties. Today, besides showing the flow of two rivers, I've noticed for the first time that their magnification seems to vary. Is this new property a signal to step back a level and consider the meta-frame in which the drawing practice is operating?

Water touching the shore. Today I'm considering the relationship of the continuous flow of ideas through my mind to the few art objects I manage to make (or take) from the flow. Each piece is an eddy that digs a hole and refuses to dissipate, finally filling in with sediment and solidifying. By the time anyone else sees it, I'm miles downriver.

Penetrating to the core. Our stress increases as the week rushes in. But at the center of every thought and emotion is a calm place. Make it there and you'll release the flow.

Simple relationships. Are we trapped or being held down? Is our position unstable? Our interactions have geometries - just take a breath and see.

Deep sources. For years my question was always, "What is the source of creativity?" The answer I finally got completely surprised me. Where do all our ideas come from? It makes more sense if you ask, "When am I not creative?"

Interior-oscopy. It's time again to go inside, bring everything into question, sieve out blocks, and look for new places to branch out.

Abundance. It looks like we are in a cycle that is full of creative improvisation. How many cards will it take if we want to draw all the possibilities?

Two streams. What started out as a sketch for a new software artwork quickly became a comparison: frames of code to moments in time. Computer time is linear. Could nonlinear variations to the timing of an animation enhance its feeling of 'being here now'? What kind of realism is that?

Interfacing two worlds. I'm going back and forth to the city a lot this week. Each place is like someone I know...but they don't know each other. I'll feel more complete when my friends become friends.

Regrouping. Is dissolution always dismal? Not when you lose the things holding you back and gain creative energy. Call it spring cleaning.

Plans are germinating. A strong wind shuffles the phylogons and harmonizes disparate things. Let the frames reorganize and nurture what grows.

Listening to the quiet rain I wonder what flow looks like across a shifting ground? And if I'm simultaneously separate and connected? And when I suddenly realize that there are no words for what I know, what paths will open up to me?

Small movements over time. Earth's tectonic plates only advance a few centimeters a year but eventually reshape the continents. Little steps, carefully taken, clearly understood and finished with love will shift your inner flow which is harder than moving a mountian.

3 generations. There is joy to be found exploring endless variations in nature. More joy comes from seeing this infinite potential in what is closest to you.

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