Creating art
During the day a friend asked-why do you not show your art?
She is perhaps one of a handful of post-college friends or acquaintances who know anything about my art. The questing caught me off-balance. Why indeed? So many reasons, perhaps none of them good.
Partly, with a young child about, to protect it. Partly because I do not feel this is my home. I feel I belong somewhere else now, that having lost my thread in the past I have no clue (ahem) where I should be. Partly it is mostly not the stuff one puts up, and also, all the decent stuff I sold or gave away long ago.
But partly out of sorrow. (I developed chemical allergies through overexposure to certain chemicals, and for years could not open a fresh newspaper, much less paint! My clay designs are grand in scope and my jewelry designs require access to smelting and casting equipment.) I also no longer sing, play, or debate, my published poetry and short stories remain hidden and I am creating no more. I no longer even do any real cooking or design my own clothes. Even my beautiful gardens with flowers nearly every day of the year and herbs used to spice dishes from cultures on most continents, gone, a past I am not even looking to revitalize. Why? Even the frenetic pace of modern life, the costs in time and other resources of maintaining those habits, the shade in the yard and clay soil not enough excuse to cover these neglects. And the only language studied I ever use anymore is the only one in over a dozen. All my brave words earlier today about helping other’s light to shine free. An excuse to keep mine hidden?
I feel so alien here. And still very vulnerable. I have to keep much hidden. Partly it is practical (“Hey, where’d’ja get this painting?”) I just don’t want to face the questions. And part of it is fear. I learn some things so quickly it is deeply resented by others; when it is something I love, it is annoying and counterproductive to my time to allow others to slow my progress by slowing to their pace just to keep them feeling good about themselves. My work I do honestly. Social conventions are used by the insecure to control others. Why waste time being false to oneself- unless there is a compelling good? Conventional people can be such a drag. It is so exciting to be with people who can share the experience of seeing the whole of a field of knowledge or art in one compelling sweep in all its complexity and breathtaking beauty. I long so deeply to share that again with someone it is sometimes almost a physical pain. People who do not blink in the face of infinity are far too rare.
On the other hand, it is shattering to reach that breakthrough in a field of endeavor and find so many of one’s assumptions, habits of thought, ‘unassailable truths,’ are based on false foundations- the unexamined life- and have the comfortable structures of thought come crashing apart. Each time is as painful as the first; no inoculation. If one survives the shattering, life is renewed, one’s entire universe is reformed, reborn, infinitly more satisfying and exciting, more deeply breathtakingly wonderous, awe-inspiring.
So refreshing to share thoughts with others of similar experiences, and her how their universe was illuminated by a flash of insight in their own field of excellence!
Usually, it saves a lot of trouble, acting dumb. Keeping the painting, as it were, hidden.
Is this wrong?
Is this fair to my child?
(If I help others to reveal their field of excellence, will I be safe to bring out mine?)
Ah, the men return..triumphant! Through the effort of the past months (and four days sacrificed to it this week) the team won first place, the tournament was and will be on the news, and my life and mind shifts again. Farewell.