My friend Joe Blodgett said, “There’s two ways to walk this path — one for the path and one for the spirit.” In a cathedral of Douglas fir and alder, blown twigs from the night’s storm over a carpet of autumn, Joe crouches down and watches the steady miracle of a spotted woodland slug.
Joe says he feels an artistic moment coming on, surrendering to the need to make something: a guilt or work-ethic thing. He’s a guy in tune with “tuning in.” Joe works with water-soluble marker-pens which he augments with watercolour washes — a technique which diffuses lines not held with fixative. The can of fixative sticks out of his jacket pocket. His method is fast and loose. After only a few minutes, he moves on.
The artistic mind, flowing properly, sees the world differently. Call it what you will — a Celestine moment, synchronicity, serendipity. There’s a higher harmonic. It’s got to do with receptiveness and alertness. Those who expect, receive. We can leave it to the gods where it comes from. The important thing is to give in to it — allow this dream mind to run free. My friend is a living example of one who trusts dreams, hunches and intuition. Joe’s not a child — he’s just curious. On the side he’s a good businessman, father, bookkeeper, track-keeper. It’s not a pose — it’s a desirable and natural state of being. On the path he has wandering eyes. On the path his hand becomes busy because it has to. T. S. Eliot suggested that the paths we walk are made of hints and guesses. The artist says, “What can I make of this?”
“God is only another artist — like me.” (Salvador Dali)
Esoterica: Artists are often dreaming, wondering, wandering and idling in the fanciful department. They seem to be able to actually “live in” a world of their own creation, perhaps preferring it to the real world, their work being an extension of it.
Autumn Aspen Below Lovelake
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