The rest of life
It is a bit humerous to me that after writing two heroic posts about hiding being an illusion that I dissapear for almost 2 weeks. Funny how we process what we write about, funny how life gets in the way.
Life, the rest of life. You know: eating, drinking, cooking, technical problems, jobs, feelings, hot weather, bad days, good days, television…you name it, everything that isn’t the art. It is all the necessary parts of being human and as artists it can sometimes feel like our worst enemy.
How many times have you said to yourself, “If I could just do this full time I would be ______” Fill in the blank. Happier, healthier, saner, calmer, cooler, smarter…maybe even richer. The funny thing is that even the artists I know who do it full time still spend a lot of their days dealing with the rest of life. I think sometimes we can get caught by the illusion that necessities take away the purity of what we have to say, of who we are. If only we lived in a world that would leave us alone to be our genius selves, then harmony and brilliance would reign.
And it probably would. But maybe not. Maybe we need the rest of life to ground us, to make us reach for the truth in the present moment. I love getting obsessed with my work, but if I do it for to long, it gets one dimensional. When I can extend my perspective, my ‘artists eye’ in my day to day life, everything gets better. On the bus, walking the dog, in a lineup at the post office, the Voice is seeking out it’s references to tell me what it wants to say. The strange look of a woman’s hair, the alignment of a city landscape, a flash of connection between strangers…Moments are seeking us out everywhere, but often we are to caught up in just getting by and surviving that we can’t see or feel it.
What if art starts by how we are, not what we do? Perhaps then the rest of life could be a part of the creative life. After all, it is the one thing we have in common…
A work in progress. How is the rest of your life?