My Lover, Warrior, Magician and King

It is one of those mornings to stay in bed with my lover listening to the rain driving against the bedroom window. A little scary wondering if this wind just might rip the roof off. But its warm in here, the tea is brewed and we have made love for hours and nothing but the weather exists outside this realm. The news, the world, troubles concerns just aren’t relevant this morning. And even though all alone, I feel in this moment, my lover here within me a deep satisfaction and conection. The week has been full of warrior energy, out there in the world doing my best to make “it” happen. I fight to make my art by searching for shows and commissions and funding and doing whatever it takes to create the space the freedom and the inspiration to do what I love.

To be in the studio creating, or walking deep in the woods, this whole crazy world suddenly makes sense. Nature doesn’t care what happens no emotions of good or bad, right or wrong it just dose it’s best to reach for the light, bend and twist if it must, repair if injured and continue to live or just painlessly die to feed the soil for more life to grow. Art dose the same, it deals with obstructions and always finds a way to light, then in time to only to have been, a memory, an inspiration a something that once was. I wonder if communities do the same, deep down we are dependant on one another and at the same time we cling so fiercely to our independence. Like trees each one grows on it’s own but it is the forest that it lives, strives, thrives and dies in.

I am to speak tomorrow as an artist along with a professor and a minister about bridging communities. I trust the right words will find there way through these vocal cords and in the spirit and the intention I set for my art to be a bridge of healing. I love this work, to be called up to speak of what I do not know and at the same time know completely. This is the magician in me that transforms what can’t be understood into some sort of form, in my case it is sculpture and a few chosen words. I want to speak of the creative and how that lives in us all, whatever the form, we are all creating all the time, it is life and with that we are all God if we must be called something.

When my lover is warm and nurturing and when my warrior has fought the good battle and my magician has transformed confusion to truth my King is joyful. He sits upon his humble throne and loves, loves all in his community and his community opens to the world, at this point he needs no possessions, no status, no glory. He loves and that is All.

Image. Black Madonna, she's 84" tall

When the art leads the artist must follow

When the art leads the artist must follow. Sometimes he must do every thing he can to keep up with speed of art. It’s the creative energy that moves at a pace of it’s own not particularly interested in the pace of the artist that is enticed to create.

Making Art. It often comes in a flash, a dream or a vision during morning tea. All fine and good but the making of the piece may be incredible labor intensive involving research, learning curves, figuring, discovering etcetera. The inspiration dose not care of such obstacles it just says here you go, I gift you with some brilliance now good luck manifesting it. Oh and by the way, while your busy creating that vision, I’ll be sending more ideas, thoughts and brilliance for you to contend with.

My old mentor Raymond Barnhart said to me in his 90’s still with a studio filled with works in progress “the dilemma of getting old, as an artist is that there is even more to do then when you first started”. His personal solution to this is doing the work and loving your friends.

Not only dose creation need to be realized then there is a pull for it to seen in the world. As of late I feel like I have been chasing my art from show to show. This started with an open studio tour the first week of Oct 2010 in Floyd Virginia, the 2^nd and 3^rd week was an open studio in Grass Valley California, the 4^th week was the opening of my solo show in Norfolk Virginia, when that show came down it went directly to Roanoke College for my largest show to date, 39 substantial sculptures, the day that ended was the day to set up works for the Marginal Art Show in downtown Roanoke and at the same time I had three works juried into the Biennial back at Roanoke college, the Marginal show ended and two days later I delivered three works to the Taubman Museum for an invitational show of south eastern artists, next week I have works in the opening of a new gallery back In Floyd.

How dose one keep up with the creative impulse?

I think this is a quandary for every artist. Ideas come at breakneck speed and there is no way to keep up and then there are those times when we have time on our hands and the creative well appears to be dry. Crazy making it can be, and if we can find our way through the maze and find moments of balance and be right there in the rhythm of the flow. This is what it’s all about becoming one with creation, being the creator and in the moment all is…so profoundly spectacular.

Penetration

Penetration

For a man it’s a loaded word. He has been dealing with the idea all of his life. Most of the time the context is sex or fighting. We penetrate our opponent and we penetrate our mate. As simple as those two statements are we spend the majority of our lives tying to figure out how to be doing one or the other. Enormous amounts of energy focused on how best to conquer other men and as much energy focused on getting inside “our” women. We may seem like we have become peaceful loving caring men full of compassion, soft and safe, unchallenging and somewhat trusted by both men and women. But deep down in our balls a feeling wells up, a feeling so strong, so fertile and primal. It starts as an agitation, a questioning of our existence, a rumbling, a stirring, a force that anti feel drugs, obsessive sex, a new car and more stuff just wont quench. A fire is brewing inside that has to burn, it needs fuel as it is the life force of a man no longer able to fit within the cultural paradigm that smothers the flames of his life. He starts to feel this need, this desire, this primal urge to penetrate. But what? What is it that he is to enter that he can fill and be filled with? He has formed a trusted band of brothers by this time in his life and he speaks to them of this deep urge that must be acted on, he is a good man and dose not want to risk his job, his marriage his friendships or his life. In a quandary he searches his soul through quite time alone reading books by men that have pondered this in the past. In the quiet of his solitude and with support of his brothers he comes to terms and realizes the truth of a life of service. He comes to understand it is his nature to penetrate and to live full he must penetrate. He discovers his mission in life and he takes that mission as his strength his goal his purpose and he penetrates the world with it. He dose whatever it takes to live his mission of service, he discovers in this process allies begin to show up, synchronicity, coincidences and when challenges arise he is strong and sees them only as that and not to be defeated by them. A sense of energy runs through him, he’s excited to get up in the morning and he naturally takes good care of himself, sleeps soundly, eats organically and moves with vitality and purpose. He has penetrated his own life, he has penetrated through the veils of illusion, He can now penetrate with his warrior energy the injustices in the world hold men accountable for their actions, he penetrates the lies, deceit and inequalities. With compassion he understands the shadow and the immature unconscious pain that drives men to penetrate with organs and objects of destruction. He dose not let them off the hook with this compassion but holds them to the fire of accountability with love. He now can penetrate his woman, deeply and full, not only with his organ of primal desire and pleasure but with his love and fullness. He is present, open, vulnerable, a strong force of nature with out a need to control or dominate. He is filled with humor and lightness he laughs with his partner he cares about her and honors her deep feminine nature. The wisdom she carries he learns from, he is humbled by her strength and with deep respect he protects her gentle nature. As he grows old he grows ever wiser, he begins to discover a quiet peace that he can describe as nothing other then Zen. He is not afraid of his death, as he knows his life is rich and full. He ages with grace, knowing his body is nothing more than the beautiful vehicle used to travel through upon this earthwalk. He has taken the heroes journey through life and he is love realized.

photo: "Emergence" 2008 Riechmuth Park Sacramento CA.

Questions, No Questions.

Living the life as an artist. Rich indeed, the deed of creation, creating something out of nothing. Entering the studio on a daily basis with the excitement of what is going to happen today? What will come through these hands, this imagination, inspiration, divine or forced, allowed or willed, what’s it going to take today to bring creativity into being. These are the questions asked or not that always hang in the background. Yes it is so rich to be blessed with a life of purpose, a reason for getting up and getting out, a reason for being born and a reason to have lived. In my youth I thought art could save the world, now I see it as an act that saves myself from the slippery slope of mediocrity. I strive to create beauty for no other reason then for beauty’s sake, to make art that has a deeper meaning than can be known in the process as it is made from the place of no thought but many decisions. If it can touch another, spark a light in the shadow of existence then just perhaps it is all worthwhile. Some sense of trust permeates that knows what’s in the work, it’s universal as it is emotion skill and vision, yes my vision and my skill but emotion, I feel that belongs to the collective. Sadness, anger, fear and joy is embodied in the work, we all carry this within perhaps for different reason and perhaps for exactly the same but either way it is a link that binds us to the experience of life. At times I laugh when I work at times I have cried, I can tense up in fear and I can dance around the studio overflowing with Joy. My hope is that these works permeate with such emotion will touch the collective connection within us all and remind us of the humanity shared by our existence. We are all in these together, victims and the perpetrators, we all suffer, the lovers of life suffer death as love and loss is inevitable. This is not a bad thing to suffer this is the beauty of being this is the contrast that lets us know joy, this is what compassion and connection are born from.

Is art the nature of being human? Are the winds of creation the source of inspiration? Is there a silent howl beneath the breath that urges us on to create? Or is it just a way of giving importance to an artistic life? These are questions I’m trying not to ask, working to come to the place of no matter, the place that dose not analyze, just is and that is enough. Enough to walk in nature, service the body with food and shelter and to enter the studio with an open spirit, open to allow creation to flow unhampered with questions of reason.

Above is the Image of "Elders" a public sculpture created in a traffic circle in Grass Valley CA. A prayer wheel honoring those that suffered during the California gold rush and sending out the essence of love, joy, kindness, and forgiveness.

essence of love?

The darkness of winter nights grow long, a cold wind and it’s constant freight train like sound mixed with screeches and screams, creaks and moans, whistles in the trees calling out to any ear within range. Wind chill and blown snow, a layer of ice and a deep appreciation for my four walls and a roof, a stack of firewood, propane in the tank, food in the pantry and water flowing from the tap. With all such life support issues for the moment in order my mind begins to wander and I watch the first rays of the morning light as it shines forth through the trees and over the eastern horizon.

What is this? This relationship we all have with ourselves, with others, with life and with lovers. How is it that we come together, something within resonated and we feel the draw to connect, to become intimate, is it the desire to know oneness with what is outside our own existence. How is it that we find those or that in which we come into sacred contact with? Do we choose? And what is fear? The place I know inside that runs from what I am drawn to. Is it the fear of loosing self in the oneness, of the joining in and loosing the boundary of separation? As I sit and watch the sunrise and the trees hold the form and change from shape to color, I wonder, what is the space between the me and the tree, between you and me, between my thoughts and my body and me? A Zen circle, an open place, the desire to close the space. To connect, to feel skin upon skin, to join the yin and the yang of union, enter deep in body abandonment, allowing sexual, spiritual and loving union to take place. To accept the desire of divine motivation to experience the space between becoming joined and realizing the space between the emptiness that holds all of everything together is this essence of love?

I am in the state of winter. Cold and dark, inward and quiet, it is not easy at times and the patience of allowing nothing to be happening challenges my ideas of being full, warm, productive and outward. I am surrounded and protected in my own womb, the place to seek peace and enter dreams. At times I long for the warmth of another body in the darkness of the night, lips to kiss, a yoni to enter, the small of your back to pull up tight as I go deep within and feel the splendid wonder of orgasmic bliss that can permeate and join two bodies as one and together enter the universe. The guru said we are one and at the time I believed him and still there are times, deep in meditation, deep in the creative process and alone deep in nature, I Am That. And still my mind is not still; still enough to not slip back into the ego self that separates myself from all. Enters fear and doubt, judgment and shame then what if my fire wood supply…? What If? And What the Fuck? Then poof as bad as it could get, the worst that could happen, and it Is, it is all alright, reconnection is restored, compassion for self and all, remembering life dose come with an element of suffering and once again I breath a sigh of beauty, that moment of peace and returning to what just may be, back to the essence of love.

Lonely?

My sister asked “do you get lonely out here”? I had to pause and ask my self, “Who is here to be lonely?” After three years or so, never been real good about keeping track of time, there is someone I know that I never really knew before. This is I, the personality I wake up with in the morning, and the one I argue with over what we should be doing or what we want to do. Who’s doing the dishes tonight, you better exercise, do your paperwork and so on. Sometimes we have such a great time walking in the woods, a glass of wine, a fabulous home cooked meal, a night in the studio creating with splendid jazz in the back ground. There maybe a psychological condition to this or perhaps it’s just a Gemini thing but there certainly seems like there is more then just the one living in this cabin. Do I want a partner, a real live other person to share this lifetime with? I have lived all my life thinking so and what that would look like and to a certain extent preparing for that other one to move in to this life. Now at fifty, single never married, having shared myself intimately with lovers I still love deeply and several have become my best friends. I just don’t know any longer what my fate of partnership looks like. No longer is the vision what it once was. No longer am I longing to create a nuclear family, Art has become my extension into the after life, my contribution to the future, the mark that I was here.

The question “do I get lonely?”…. The longer I am alive the richer my own company becomes. We have been together for so long now we have come to truly love each other, we accept our follies, agree to disagree, play and work together and we realize we are in this together for the entire journey, best to be best friends and enjoy the ride together.

There may just be room for another in this life and their other as well. A relationship is so much more than two people coming together. It is a community a village a family. What a fantastic relationship of group dynamics, to know who’s communicating with who, who wants what, who needs what and who can provide and who cannot.

I see an outside relationship as an extension of the inside one. A mirror to see myself, my many selves and I a reflection of the other and their many others. The difference in self-relationship and with another is the space between the distance is always there, always, no matter how close or far, it to be respected and to know that there is always a space between the us.

Am I lonely? Am I alone? There are times when the crows are my companion, it feels like love, I have love with my friends, my deep and intimate relationships are filled with love, the days that go by that I do not have contact with people seem to be filled with conversation with my very best friend and this I have come to realize is Love.

Alone at times, Yes, Lonely??? Yes at times, Solitary? Yes but not in confinement. Content? Very much So.

Virginia, I’ve heard it said it’s the last stop before heaven. I wonder what color heaven would be. Virginia is green, green everywhere, I look over fields of grass into lush forests of hardwoods and pines all surrounded and engulfed in green. They say the heart chakra, is stimulated by green and I believe life gives us exactly what it is we need in every moment. If this is the case at this time in my life I need all this green energy surrounding me. I think I may be learning something about love. The more time I spend with myself by myself the more I get this sense of love all around. To whom is the relationship happening with? Is it I? Is it God? Is it the part of me that is watching the whole show, laughing at the antics, knowing the sweet compassion of my struggles and taking the deep breath of joy when I just relax into a moment? In the moments when I accept the not knowing and let go of the trying to figure it out, there is a point of eternity that it all is just…Is.

There is a sweet gentle rain falling this morning. It touches the poet inside and to honor him I will post a few poems that came through a couple mornings ago.

Sleepy morning eyes

Sleepy morning eyes.

The first cup of tea.

The first light of the day.

Sounds of birds waking, singing their morning songs.

Insects begin to buzz.

Cool air.

Delight in the first sun rays before the rise.

A stillness.

An awakening.

Peace.

Life still

at rest.

Feeling Morning

As I feel the morning.

Between the dream and the day

Cool air awakens my skin

Song birds touch my ears

Sweet warm tea on my lips

The smell of dew in the grass

Feeling morning.

A lover beside me

I notice a lover beside me.

In the crisp morning air.

In the bird songs.

In the sweetness of my earl grey.

In the lush greenery that surrounds me.

In the first morning light.

Next to me is a lover.

Inside me.

and I thought I was alone.

Ever Present.

The ever present sense of fear and doubt

Slipping into the shadows of love and gratitude

Awake in this moment

Only to be

Is plenty

Knowing all will be provided for

As all has

Always

In all ways

Peace and trust

Confidence

In the process of life

Oh the love

Oh the joy

Of simply being

Breath by breath.