I’ve been wrestling with this idea that we all have a question that forms our life’s path: the pursuit of that question is at least part of what centers us and gives life meaning. This has come into focus for me as a result of reading Seeing is Forgetting the Name of the Thing One Sees: A Life of Contemporary Artist Robert Irwin,
I love the pesky spouse nudging you in a direction you'd rather not go!
Irwin's quest reminds me of Betty Edward's Drawing from the Right Side of the Brain idea to tune out the concept of a chair in order to just draw what you see–to experience it directly. I always find my brain sneaking back in to try to make sense of experience. That's part of the problem I always have with the language poets. I always ask, "So what?" Somehow with painting and other visual arts I can just enjoy the experience.
All art is, imho, a pursuit of the Zen state of "no mind." When I read Melville or Yeats or O. Henry, I give myself over to their words, their world. Only later do I bring my conforming eye in playing the role of critic. So too with visual art, where a juxtaposition of colored blocks or the elusive smile of a young woman first engages my intuition and only secondarily my mind. In that sense, one's first response to art is "insanity," that moment when one experiences pure impression or affinity, with no regard for conformity or convention. If so, creating that moment is worthy of your pursuit even if many artists have, by traditional standards, been regarded insane. Art is, after all, pursuing something beyond (or above) our everyday world. Write on.
This is excellent social science. I often use individual questions for students to decide what is reasonable or in one's best interest. I start with a question like, "Is it in your best interest to have children?" Some give a hard no. Some say yes. Some later in life sure. They are mostly normal people, but I like to push them into abnormal, uncomfortable territory. I ask if they want their children to become tween rock stars to make money off them, or if they would have a child now because they think they might need a kidney in 30 years.
I love the pesky spouse nudging you in a direction you'd rather not go!
Irwin's quest reminds me of Betty Edward's Drawing from the Right Side of the Brain idea to tune out the concept of a chair in order to just draw what you see–to experience it directly. I always find my brain sneaking back in to try to make sense of experience. That's part of the problem I always have with the language poets. I always ask, "So what?" Somehow with painting and other visual arts I can just enjoy the experience.
You got me thinking!
All art is, imho, a pursuit of the Zen state of "no mind." When I read Melville or Yeats or O. Henry, I give myself over to their words, their world. Only later do I bring my conforming eye in playing the role of critic. So too with visual art, where a juxtaposition of colored blocks or the elusive smile of a young woman first engages my intuition and only secondarily my mind. In that sense, one's first response to art is "insanity," that moment when one experiences pure impression or affinity, with no regard for conformity or convention. If so, creating that moment is worthy of your pursuit even if many artists have, by traditional standards, been regarded insane. Art is, after all, pursuing something beyond (or above) our everyday world. Write on.
This is excellent social science. I often use individual questions for students to decide what is reasonable or in one's best interest. I start with a question like, "Is it in your best interest to have children?" Some give a hard no. Some say yes. Some later in life sure. They are mostly normal people, but I like to push them into abnormal, uncomfortable territory. I ask if they want their children to become tween rock stars to make money off them, or if they would have a child now because they think they might need a kidney in 30 years.