September 2012

September 2012

9.1.2012

How many moments do you get? Turning off the iPad, the tv, the radio, the iPod, the iPhone, the browser, www, email, aol, yahoo, gmail, twitter, Facebook (of course), beepers, faxes, plain old telephone, the news, the sports, the weather, the family, the parents, the children, cousins, children of children, friends of children, families of friends, book group, quilt group, church group, coffee club, drinking buddies, and besides that all the time spent at work? How many moments do you sit and allow yourself in an hour, in a day, in a week, in a month, in a year, in a decade, or a lifetime? How often is everything still, attachments detached, space without noise, heart settled, intention resolved, attitude positive, no embarrassment, no doubt, no hesitation? How many moments focused, ego quiet, and open? How many times turning inward without doing? How many touches to the infinite? And how precious each jewel?

9.2.2012

	Getting congruent with the person inside.
9.3.2012

	While listening to stories describing practice I heard, "In learning, you add day by day; in the studio, you reduce day by day"
9.4.2012

	Cool drifts through the screen door alerting bare legs to seasonal cycles shifting.
9.5.2012

9.6.2012

	Remaking the man. Shifting planes. Fitting pieces. Seeing what works.
9.7.2012

	Journey broadens; one thousand eyes looking in.
9.8.2012

	The inner life, easily shifting, reshaping, subject to storms, consumed by vortices, an illusion of fashioned flow.
9.9.2012

	Letting go and waiting for integration.
9.10.2012

	Group meeting at the river.
9.11.2012

	While working out a compositional problem using positive and negative space I hear the Heart Sutra ringing in my ears, "...form is emptiness and emptiness is form..."
9.12.2012

	Multiple vessels.
9.13.2012

9.14.2012

9.15.2012

9.16.2012

9.17.2012

	I sit with the rain Door open Dampness under my clothes No barriers I smell Louisiana In the warmth And not so much the scent As the fullness A squirrel in an awkward posture Raised on hind feet, back arched Digging with his front paws in the softened dirt Nervously buries new year's lunch
9.18.2012

	Afternoon light.
9.19.2012

9.20.2012

9.21.2012

9.22.2012

9.23.2012

	Looking into the deep and holding secrets close.
9.24.2012

	Did you hear the one about the intersecting mobius strips? Why does laughter occur?
9.25.2012

Drawing practice takes place in the studio; creative process happens everywhere. Images pass in and out of my attention every day while I'm online, watching TV, driving, dreaming and drawing. My job is to constantly search this visual space for something special and only rarely do I find myself in close proximity to an attractor, an image or idea that holds on, persists in the imagination, pervades my thinking in and out of the studio, and appears as a unifying pattern. When this icon, singularity, and totality symbol finally emerges from the noise, I sit with it, rest with it, resist it, question it and hopefully am able to turn toward it fully and pass through it with enough openness to comprehend the expansiveness it represents.

9.26.2012

	Seeing a river and entering the stream.
9.27.2012

9.28.2012

	Discovering new territories and finding them already fully populated.
9.29.2012

	Watching a new image take flight.
9.30.2012