Home again after a day in the outside realms of my little art world. Today was the day of “The Burden Boat Ceremony”, today all the burdens people laid down in the boat in the form of paper notes where burned as a ceremonial release. The ritual was beautiful the fire, awesome and the burden bags that hung over the boat to contain the energy where released as the fire burned through the strings and the bags fell into the earth to be buried in the ground in which they originated. This was a cremation a release and a burial of our individual burdens, I see every individual burden released as one less collective burden we all have to carry. Some art pieces have the potential to change the artist, this one has that, and will he allow it? Time will tell.
It’s been a couple days since the happening and much has settled into the past and the new version of the present is here. Today it’s a sunrise, the first light blazing pink in the cloud covered ceiling of a passing storm. Steam off a teacup and an open wondering what today may bring. There’s a fine line between allowing and directing. This life shows up as it dose, by directing intention it has a certain perception of continuity to a vision laid out ahead. Studio vs. Office? Two spaces one goal, such different energies and both necessary to achieve the intention to create as much art in this little lifetime as possible.
At times it feels like if I can just hang in there another day a month or a year I just might get through this life as an artist all the way to the end. What’s the point? Bring a little beauty, a bit of healing, perhaps some joy and a few tears, why not? I am convinced the universe wants creativity to happen. As I perceive it, when art is truly flowing through, the support is there the check arrives, time opens up and all seems right including the suffering and the joy.
Another morning and the crows wake me with their ritual gathering outside my door. First light, between day and night, between dream state and waking state, one seems no more or less real these days than the other. I was pleased to wake up feeling well today as I had Molina mushrooms for dinner last night. They like to grow under an old fallen oak tree. I never ate Molina’s before but I’ve heard they don’t agree with everyone, apparently they did with me and God did they taste delicious. Something about eating and drinking what originates on this property feels like I am and this land are morphing into one being.
The sun is rising as the moon is setting and another day here on the mountain begins to unfold revealing another speck of a grand mystery.
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