And then the kicker is this: in passing from the real to the imagined, in following that trail, you learn that both sides have a little of the other in each, that there are elements of the imagined inside your experience of the “real” world – rock, bone, wood, ice – and elements of the […]
Wisdom
That Damned Underbelly
Portrait of Francis Bacon I have posted two separate reviews on Slow Painting of the Francis Bacon show at the Metropolitan Museum in New York, one by Jerry Saltz of New York Magazine, and one by Sebastian Smee of the Boston Globe. Both touch on Bacon’s deeply troubled personal life, in particular his experience of […]
Retreat to the Roots
Things Shouldn’t Be So Hard A life should leave deep tracks: ruts where she went out and back to get the mail or move the hose around the yard; where she used to stand before the sink, a worn-out place; beneath her hand the china knobs rubbed down to white pastilles; the switch she used […]
Clear in Hindsight
In the past, when I began to study Zen, it was all a mistake. Wandering through numberless mountains and rivers, I wanted to find something to know. It’s all clear in hindsight. Having learned this, what do I have? Release a crow into the night and it flies flecked with snow. – Dayang Jingxuan Dayang […]
- Art Making
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Gong Sounding
A few more thoughts gleaned from the Guggenheim show, The Third Mind. This show was as closely aligned to my view of artmaking as any other exhibit I’ve ever seen. The experience is still reverberating for me several days later. Here are some provocative words from two giants, John Cage and Philip Guston. We learned […]
- Creativity
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Prescient Imaging
The creative process is mysterious, and I actually relish its unwillingness to be quantified and codified. Ongoing attempts to measure and metricize what it is and how it works are reminiscent of the classic image of the bubble under the tablecloth—that pocket of air that you can move around but cannot eradicate or hold in […]
The Nature of Happiness
Morning Poem Every morning the world is created. Under the orange sticks of the sun the heaped ashes of the night turn into leaves again and fasten themselves to the high branches — and the ponds appear like black cloth on which are painted islands of summer lilies. If it is your nature to be […]
Bird Flight
My clever and resourceful friend at Virgin in the Volcano sent me an extraordinary story by Andre Dubus, A Father’s Story. It is deeply memorable and haunting, and you can read it in its entirety here. As for this moment, I’ve included a few salient passages from the story that have sat with me all […]
Relentless
I’ve given it a week to settle or to slink off. But it just won’t. The profile of David Foster Wallace in last week’s The New Yorker has taken a front row seat, kind of like a big and slightly smelly guy, and will not move to the back. Hats off to D. T. Max, […]
- Creativity
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Not the Pipeline, Just the Mule
I find it humbling that my opinion-generating, perpetual judging machine of a mind gets called out over and over again. My assumptions become hardened into fact more rapidly than is healthy for someone who professes to have the “open mind” approach to life. I’m guilty as charged. But the one nice thing about being guilty […]