i'm part of a collective blog--art is moving--and yesterday, in response to a post on gitmo and the peace billboards that are up in sf, i wrote this comment:
man--i don't know what to do about this. i hate that we've done it--and i feel a violation--i feel a crazed kind of anger and frustration--how can we be doing this? and to this child? i don't understand gitmo--and i don't know how it is happening--and i don't know what to do about it now that i know it is happening. and so i write letters to my congress people and ask that they do their thing to stop this f**king nonsense, archane, crazy torture shi*. i curse about it. i feel angry and enraged about it. i feel helpless and that makes me crazier and angrier. what does a responsible, thinking, feeling person do when one knows crazy, horrible things are going on in one's own world? i think about nazi germany...and watched on cable the other day the nuremburg trials? and i think about how we, as americans who know about gitmo and do nothing are, in fact, like germans who knew about the death camps and did nothing. i understand the doing nothing. and i hate it.
and so, what can be done about it?
1. make art about it
2. talk to the people in your own worlds about it
3. send letters to congress about it
4. hold a space of prayerful piece for the souls of the prisoners and those charged with imprisoning them
5. light a candle about it
6. send letters to amnesty international about it
7. write poetry about it
8. plant a tree about it
9. ask spirit to do something about it
10. elect someone who will shut it down.
and it seems strange to be here, blogging it again--spending time to talk about it more--but it's crazy to me that we're having some off shore torture facility propped p by a government that governs by the people and for the people. i am an american people--that does not want or believe in this kind of crap. and so i am blogging--in an effort to make myself heard--to speak out loud--to do SOMETHING.
Friday, July 18, 2008
Monday, July 14, 2008
Faces of Your Soul: Luminous Body
I've just had the most extraordinary experience assisting Kaleo with a maskmaking class this weekend. While this was not our soul group--meaning the group that assembled this weekend--it is an extraordinary example of what a soul group looks like at the end of a dna altering experience with Kaleo & Elise Ching. Flickr is the best place to be able to see the depth and breadth of the work Kaleo & Elise inspire. Their work--their artform--is teaching. The space they hold and create when they are working together is the single most healing environment, energy, attitude, outlook, possibility that i have ever experienced. Being in the space they hold--being held by that space--feeling the chi through the chi gung forms they've evolved that are integral to their teaching is quite literally life changing. Kaleo & Elise Ching represent the best teachers and transformative artists i have had the privilege to meet and work with. I highly recommend their books and classes.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/kaleoching/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/kaleoching/
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
transformation arts find of the day
http://www.artsforhealth.org/
i'm initiating a new direction for this blog--i want to discover and assemble programs and individuals that are acting in a transformative arts capacity in the world.
today, when googling, i tripped into this team of folks bringing art to health centers in manchester. this is a model for what can be done in health care environments. this is a model for adding art to the mix of physical health centers and traditional medicine--and it makes a huge impact on healing.
it's interesting to think about what a visit to the art doctor--different from a visit to the art therapist--might make possible in the world of healing.
i love discovering that there are models for this new kind of integrative behavior inside health care settings. do visit their site and post your comments on what you think of them.
i'm initiating a new direction for this blog--i want to discover and assemble programs and individuals that are acting in a transformative arts capacity in the world.
today, when googling, i tripped into this team of folks bringing art to health centers in manchester. this is a model for what can be done in health care environments. this is a model for adding art to the mix of physical health centers and traditional medicine--and it makes a huge impact on healing.
it's interesting to think about what a visit to the art doctor--different from a visit to the art therapist--might make possible in the world of healing.
i love discovering that there are models for this new kind of integrative behavior inside health care settings. do visit their site and post your comments on what you think of them.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
witness writing: a.i.r. vs. p.i.r.
a.i.r.
requires
artmaking.
p.i.r.
requires
poetry.
me: okay, what is art?
witness: a way of knowing
a spiritual practice
a way of seeing,
feeling,
sensing,
experiencing
made visible and shared.
me: is that it?
witness: isn't that what you're
finding? a way of
entering, giving
yourself permission
to enter artfully with
consciousness of artful
expression: artmaking,
poetry, written (literary)
reflection.
me: yes...and?
witness: and the experience,
when shared simply by
being visible, being an
artist in the act of
artmaking, a poet in
the act of crafting
poetry, a writer, with
a pen in her hand and
an open book, and
a visible concentration?
commitment to task?
this makes seeing the
act of artmaking
possible for both
YOURSELF and others.
me: yes.
witness: and it demonstrates
a possibility--
without need of
any kind of
promotional material
just the thing
itself--just the
act of being--
allows for others
to find, to encounter,
to allow the artist
in themselves a
little more room.
me: yes. seeing the possibility,
sensing the possibility,
allows for making room.
witness: yes and the "what can
i do" or "i can do
that" or "if she can
so it, i can do it"
impusle to rise up
in the witness/observer--and
they can create FOR THEM-
SELVES just what connects
for them.
me: yes.
witness: and the sense memory
of the observation of
art making, writing
done in public, a
human doing art
activities with accessible
materials gets
stored in the viewer
until such a time that
it can be activated.
me: YES-and what causes
that activation?
witness: that is an excellent
research question.
me: how can i determine that?
witness: ask.
me: ask who?
witness: ask all the artists
you know. ask
people--random
people who see you
making art. ask
in general terms on
craig's list. ask.
me: ask what?
witness: ask what activated
them as art maker.
ask what welled
up inside them so
big that action
was required. ask
what gave them
permission to finally make?
ask what deepend in them
in such a way that artmaking
became the only appropriate
response. ask.
me: okay.
witness: the rainbow has
arrived. eat it before
it melts.
you are already full--
you know.
this dessert is a completion
ritual you don't HAVE
to partake in.
me: i know. but i want to.
i'm following my pleasure.
witness: dive in w/discipline
me: yes.
requires
artmaking.
p.i.r.
requires
poetry.
me: okay, what is art?
witness: a way of knowing
a spiritual practice
a way of seeing,
feeling,
sensing,
experiencing
made visible and shared.
me: is that it?
witness: isn't that what you're
finding? a way of
entering, giving
yourself permission
to enter artfully with
consciousness of artful
expression: artmaking,
poetry, written (literary)
reflection.
me: yes...and?
witness: and the experience,
when shared simply by
being visible, being an
artist in the act of
artmaking, a poet in
the act of crafting
poetry, a writer, with
a pen in her hand and
an open book, and
a visible concentration?
commitment to task?
this makes seeing the
act of artmaking
possible for both
YOURSELF and others.
me: yes.
witness: and it demonstrates
a possibility--
without need of
any kind of
promotional material
just the thing
itself--just the
act of being--
allows for others
to find, to encounter,
to allow the artist
in themselves a
little more room.
me: yes. seeing the possibility,
sensing the possibility,
allows for making room.
witness: yes and the "what can
i do" or "i can do
that" or "if she can
so it, i can do it"
impusle to rise up
in the witness/observer--and
they can create FOR THEM-
SELVES just what connects
for them.
me: yes.
witness: and the sense memory
of the observation of
art making, writing
done in public, a
human doing art
activities with accessible
materials gets
stored in the viewer
until such a time that
it can be activated.
me: YES-and what causes
that activation?
witness: that is an excellent
research question.
me: how can i determine that?
witness: ask.
me: ask who?
witness: ask all the artists
you know. ask
people--random
people who see you
making art. ask
in general terms on
craig's list. ask.
me: ask what?
witness: ask what activated
them as art maker.
ask what welled
up inside them so
big that action
was required. ask
what gave them
permission to finally make?
ask what deepend in them
in such a way that artmaking
became the only appropriate
response. ask.
me: okay.
witness: the rainbow has
arrived. eat it before
it melts.
you are already full--
you know.
this dessert is a completion
ritual you don't HAVE
to partake in.
me: i know. but i want to.
i'm following my pleasure.
witness: dive in w/discipline
me: yes.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
intention and witness: day 2
so much is starting for me at just this same moment--something is activating--i am again in the flow of it--whatever it is--and am continuing on with the search--my search--my find--my dig--for the juice of my authentic treasure--that which is in me to be made by me and left in this world--to enhance the journey of fellow travelers--some clue or set of clues to find or not.
at any rate--this is what i make of my life.
today, i entered day two of the collage and witness process. i am posting both here and on my artsactionamerica blog and on my own www.writressworder.com site--so the whole story of the journey is spread around in many places--a bit like me at the minute--scattered between business offices, the downstairs guest room/command center returning to money making room in the off-season, and the beloved studio.
bits of me are scattered, too, in the people who have spread themselves across this land, across this globe--each holding a little piece of something that makes up the puzzle of my life. once such pieceholder is jenn--off on some rafting river adventure in utah having arrived on the other side of the jfku ma in transformative arts degree, at the next incarnation of her interior decorator/collector/architect/housing transformer life accompanied by her big love who just gave up their money gig--and the two of them are battling through the snow, cuddled up with a fire you have to build and not just flip a switch to get.
she and i are entering a conversation about becoming transformation arts professionals--ie: getting paid for who we be and what we do in this world.
day 2: intention and witness
9:15am-my intention is to enter into collage, notice what comes up for me around job/money/house/finances/career until 10:am.
10:16 am-stopped collaging (a little late)
10:21 am-time now--when i have finished meandering the various web based distractions (e-mail, postings, blogging, the new hub thing)
now: make a new intention
new intention: to record witness--directly into this blog entry, and publish this post by 11am.
okay: witness:
i tore, a second time through the same robb report magazine i used for day 1's collage. i found these two poems?
1. the old man and the sky
it's the sound that tells you you chose the best of the best
get inspired
it's what makes the good life great
time is life's most precious commodity.
spend it wisely.
this poem was found in the remaining fragments, after i felt the collage was "finished". i decided in its making that it was the kind of thing i'd like to hear from my old man in the sky--and so i felt that it was a kind of channeling of his words to me--his comfort and his encouragement in this moment in my life. and from his vantage point, up there in the sky, he can see now what he could not say before and speaks it to me in comforting ways through this accidental collaging. i decided to believe it--i know how it might sound to others--but since you get to make up anything you want about people you love all the time--but especially after they're dead, i made it up that this came to me from him. and it made me feel better for a moment.
found poem #2
this was the first bit of the collage that began to assert itself and i layed it out directly on the tape--and set it off by itself as the center piece of the back side of the collage--it says this:
GO THROUGH LIFE
icons and innovators
wild life
sparks my passion
it is my love
fantastic four
a precision
as beautiful and seductive
the past inspiring the future
an inspiring icon is reborn
don't simply purchase
one acquires
offering a true sense of well-being
in soul, body and mind...
recalibrate your spirit as your soul
letter perfect
the art of achievement
in the service of pioneers
and discoverers
the long road
a different take
the art
the world
the art
privileged travel
system of your dreams.
i added the tweezers held by the craftsman's hands as he moved the small hand of the watch dial to the position he wanted it in. i noted that the background, spilling over to this back, is the ad for a tequila--and exquisite tequila--the kind of stuff i once told myself i could drink all night long and still be sober.
i flip over the collage and see the heart that naturally tore itself out of the tequila ad--i see the blue eye and the black lace gloves of the woman, the tree in africa--some safari wilderness, the phantom grill of the coveted black rolls, the diamonds dripping in splashy blue water, the words, moving up from the sharp point of the heart dividing its chambers--woman's blue eye, black lace gloves and wet diamonds on one side, african tree growing into phantom luxury on the other. the words across the division: "we probably learned the hard way that our best opportunity in the industry is with the luxury, premium category."
(comment distraction on hubster "how to write a love poem")
back to witnessing the collage:
i see the precision instrument--the watch, the hours, the roman numerals the sun and moon, the zodiac signs, the months, the day, the intersecting bands of precision geometry intersecting in the circle of life worn on the wrist of some discerning soul. i see the perfect collaboration. i see another diamond against a baby blue and the splash it makes above these words: "once you sat down beneath a tree with the whole community and showed the game benefited them" and then the lonely blue chair against the darkening twilight, the deepening time of day. arriving in the bottom right i see the words: women who want tot make a memorable entrance. i see the full body of the cheetah--and then, again, just the tail. i see the wings and water. investing in personal passion. a big, thick, bold worth and a tiny, all caps, wealth in perspective under only the th, i see i was happy, hearts and soul, seeds of revolution, back, compelling perspectives, out of the heavenly blue, opens up a wold of freedom and adventure. ideas for life.
great leap forward.
no compromises.
house of blues.
we invite you.
teh sky may not be the limit.
true renewal of heart.
icons and innovators
the art of desire.
the art of crafts.
a hole heart, whole in the center of things--a kind of doorway to dreams.
i'm ten minutes early--even with the distraction.
i post now--at 10:50, ready to re-enter the world of my daughter
and nurse her back to health.
she's sick today--
so i can cuddle next to her
and bring her things
and attend to her and this home.
i will cancel my money making meetings-
and join her in my big bed for the day.
at any rate--this is what i make of my life.
today, i entered day two of the collage and witness process. i am posting both here and on my artsactionamerica blog and on my own www.writressworder.com site--so the whole story of the journey is spread around in many places--a bit like me at the minute--scattered between business offices, the downstairs guest room/command center returning to money making room in the off-season, and the beloved studio.
bits of me are scattered, too, in the people who have spread themselves across this land, across this globe--each holding a little piece of something that makes up the puzzle of my life. once such pieceholder is jenn--off on some rafting river adventure in utah having arrived on the other side of the jfku ma in transformative arts degree, at the next incarnation of her interior decorator/collector/architect/housing transformer life accompanied by her big love who just gave up their money gig--and the two of them are battling through the snow, cuddled up with a fire you have to build and not just flip a switch to get.
she and i are entering a conversation about becoming transformation arts professionals--ie: getting paid for who we be and what we do in this world.
day 2: intention and witness
9:15am-my intention is to enter into collage, notice what comes up for me around job/money/house/finances/career until 10:am.
10:16 am-stopped collaging (a little late)
10:21 am-time now--when i have finished meandering the various web based distractions (e-mail, postings, blogging, the new hub thing)
now: make a new intention
new intention: to record witness--directly into this blog entry, and publish this post by 11am.
okay: witness:
i tore, a second time through the same robb report magazine i used for day 1's collage. i found these two poems?
1. the old man and the sky
it's the sound that tells you you chose the best of the best
get inspired
it's what makes the good life great
time is life's most precious commodity.
spend it wisely.
this poem was found in the remaining fragments, after i felt the collage was "finished". i decided in its making that it was the kind of thing i'd like to hear from my old man in the sky--and so i felt that it was a kind of channeling of his words to me--his comfort and his encouragement in this moment in my life. and from his vantage point, up there in the sky, he can see now what he could not say before and speaks it to me in comforting ways through this accidental collaging. i decided to believe it--i know how it might sound to others--but since you get to make up anything you want about people you love all the time--but especially after they're dead, i made it up that this came to me from him. and it made me feel better for a moment.
found poem #2
this was the first bit of the collage that began to assert itself and i layed it out directly on the tape--and set it off by itself as the center piece of the back side of the collage--it says this:
GO THROUGH LIFE
icons and innovators
wild life
sparks my passion
it is my love
fantastic four
a precision
as beautiful and seductive
the past inspiring the future
an inspiring icon is reborn
don't simply purchase
one acquires
offering a true sense of well-being
in soul, body and mind...
recalibrate your spirit as your soul
letter perfect
the art of achievement
in the service of pioneers
and discoverers
the long road
a different take
the art
the world
the art
privileged travel
system of your dreams.
i added the tweezers held by the craftsman's hands as he moved the small hand of the watch dial to the position he wanted it in. i noted that the background, spilling over to this back, is the ad for a tequila--and exquisite tequila--the kind of stuff i once told myself i could drink all night long and still be sober.
i flip over the collage and see the heart that naturally tore itself out of the tequila ad--i see the blue eye and the black lace gloves of the woman, the tree in africa--some safari wilderness, the phantom grill of the coveted black rolls, the diamonds dripping in splashy blue water, the words, moving up from the sharp point of the heart dividing its chambers--woman's blue eye, black lace gloves and wet diamonds on one side, african tree growing into phantom luxury on the other. the words across the division: "we probably learned the hard way that our best opportunity in the industry is with the luxury, premium category."
(comment distraction on hubster "how to write a love poem")
back to witnessing the collage:
i see the precision instrument--the watch, the hours, the roman numerals the sun and moon, the zodiac signs, the months, the day, the intersecting bands of precision geometry intersecting in the circle of life worn on the wrist of some discerning soul. i see the perfect collaboration. i see another diamond against a baby blue and the splash it makes above these words: "once you sat down beneath a tree with the whole community and showed the game benefited them" and then the lonely blue chair against the darkening twilight, the deepening time of day. arriving in the bottom right i see the words: women who want tot make a memorable entrance. i see the full body of the cheetah--and then, again, just the tail. i see the wings and water. investing in personal passion. a big, thick, bold worth and a tiny, all caps, wealth in perspective under only the th, i see i was happy, hearts and soul, seeds of revolution, back, compelling perspectives, out of the heavenly blue, opens up a wold of freedom and adventure. ideas for life.
great leap forward.
no compromises.
house of blues.
we invite you.
teh sky may not be the limit.
true renewal of heart.
icons and innovators
the art of desire.
the art of crafts.
a hole heart, whole in the center of things--a kind of doorway to dreams.
i'm ten minutes early--even with the distraction.
i post now--at 10:50, ready to re-enter the world of my daughter
and nurse her back to health.
she's sick today--
so i can cuddle next to her
and bring her things
and attend to her and this home.
i will cancel my money making meetings-
and join her in my big bed for the day.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
starting the conversation
it is such arrogance to think that when one joins the conversation, one is starting it. i think about this on the journey toward my MA degree in transformative arts. it--this topic of transformation--is as ancient as alchemy. it is the study--the attention to detail--of the daily process of becoming. it seems, as i deepen my understanding, ever so slowly, that it is the art of paying attention. to see things in the seed--oak trees in the acorn--and to know, when planted deep and properly watered, there will, one day, be the grand ecosystem of tree that marks and makes for the miracle of all that lives in it, on it and from it.
it is this kind of faith--the farmers faith--in planting seeds--that i must cultivate. it is an ancient art, this transformation. it is no more and no less than being human.
it is this kind of faith--the farmers faith--in planting seeds--that i must cultivate. it is an ancient art, this transformation. it is no more and no less than being human.
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