New Art: Blue Jizo

// June 27th, 2011 // No Comments » // painting

Jizo Boddhisattva is a Buddhist saint and protector of children and travelers through physical and spiritual worlds. Jizo is often depicted sitting in the hell realms as he has taken a vow to not enter into full enlightenment until hell is empty, so he sits there saving all the trapped beings. One of the ways he does this is to shine a mirror into people’s faces so they can truly see themselves as they are. I know, not the cheeriest subject for a painting, but I do find the image of Jizo exuding peace, strength, and compassion amid the flames an inspiring one.

Acrylic on gallery stretched 5×5 inch canvas.

This painting is available to buy over at  my new Art page.

Red Thread of Creativity

// February 25th, 2011 // 7 Comments » // creativity

*****

There’s an old story about a Buddhist Monk going to his teacher and asking:

‘In whom does Buddha cause passion’

The teacher replies:

‘The Buddha causes passion in everyone’

Monk:

‘Then how do we get rid of it?’

Teacher:

‘Why should we get rid of it?’

*****

Sometimes Buddhism is presented as a bloodless, and fatalistic religion, one where all passion is seen as something to be extinguished. That’s not really the case at all, but the assumption is pretty sticky.

But it’s not just in Buddhism that passion might be seen as something to be extingushed, that idea is everywhere.

I’ve see it in everyday conversations, places I’ve worked, hospitals, writing groups, on-line forums, and even art classes I’ve attended.

In many areas, our culture shrinks from passionate and subjective thinking and leans towards passionless, objective thinking. Unless it’s in the form of an advertisement trying to invoke the precise flutter of passion required to purchase an over-priced sports car/ handbag / telecommunications device.

The dominant message is that viewing the world objectively trumps viewing the world subjectively almost every time.

I’ve never been sure why; we live inside the world, not beside it, taking notes on a clipboard (or overpriced telecommunications device).

The idea of being passionate about the people you love, or an activity that is seen as sufficiently practical is deemed okay. But get passionate about something that doesn’t involve financial money markets or making machines, and you’ll get plenty of messages about how it’s not practical to view that passion as a career path, or a serious pursuit.

Apparently, the things you’re passionate about are best done in the basement, alone, late at night. Please don’t offend the serious people.

All that is fine, I have the choice to ignore it, right?

Well, not really. Because whenever I go to write, or talk, or paint about things I’m passionate about, the same arguments come up from inside my head.

“They really don’t want to hear/read/see this”

“That’s not practical.”

“What a waste of their time and yours”

“Grow up”

I’ve done quite the job of integrating all those messages.

I’m sure the messages spring out of the good intent to keep us safe from being overwhelmed by our desires, but when they result in us being overwhelmed by abstract obligations to people we don’t know, then things are a little out of balance.

And isn’t balance the thing? A balance between our passions and our obligations, balance between subjective and objective, between wisdom from outside, and wisdom from within?

Going back to Buddhism for just a second, they have a concept called the ‘Red Thread’.

The Red Thread is a metaphor for the core passion that we bring to our lives, it represents a love of the things that we care most deeply about, and that help to drive our lives.

The string of fire that courses through us, enlivening everything it touches.

Why should we get rid of that?

I’ve been participating in Leah’s Creative Every Day challenge for a while now, but haven’t done much on this month’s theme: Passions. I often feel hesitant talking about some of the creative things I’m passionate about, because it generally amounts to a list of things that not many other people care about.

Having a blog devoted entirely to the subject of creativity is really helping with that, but still, the insecurity lingers.

This is the attitude I’m trying to foster about that: “So what. They’re the things I’m into, I can find a way to work these into my working life. Maybe I can do that in a way that gets some other people to care about them, too”

One way to strengthen that attitude is by naming these passions.

So, here is my Red Thread of Creativity list:

Labyrinths

Poetry

Yoga / Meditation

Shiva Nata

Parenting

Blogging

Reading / Writing

Surfing

Cartooning

Painting

Improv Theatre

They’re all things I’ve put lots of time into. They’re all things I’d love to be doing, or reading about, or writing about. I’m doing some of these things now, some obsessively, some things on the list are in hibernation, but I know I’ll get back to them. Some activities might not even strike others as being creative at all (surfing?) but I feel the link, subjectively, if not objectively.

What kind of things make it onto your ‘Red Thread of Creativity’ list? I’d love to hear!

*****

Eclipse Walk

// December 23rd, 2010 // 2 Comments » // Labyrinths, metaphor, Uncategorized

I got to do a labyrinth walk beneath the total lunar eclipse the other night (this is one of the great things about having a labyrinth in the back yard).

At the start of the walk I set the intention to focus on the theme of moving between  shadow and light, and what that might mean in my life at the moment.

It was great to hold that in my mind while watching the moon move into shadow, the cusp of light at the edge getting brighter in contrast,and the movement of the clouds obscuring, then revealing the eclipse.

I put two candles at the centre, one standard candle in a jar and one three-wick scented candle. I also put two incense sticks in there, so there was a heap of light and fragrance as I walked around.

The candles were placed before a small Buddha who lives at the centre of the labyrinth. Each time I walked around the back-end the light was blocked by the Buddha, then would return as I walked around the front edge of the labyrinth. So there was a succession of mini eclipses going on around my feet to mirror the one in the sky.

One thing I’ve noticed about labyrinth walks is the little coincidences that reflect back things going on in my life, I always leave a walk with a heap of metaphors and clues to journal about. One nice little gem from the eclipse walk occurred at one of the dark points, where the clouds had moved over; a moth flew into my face.

We were really lucky, as the sky was pretty overcast but the clouds kept breaking up enough that we got to see most of the action. I started my walk a little after half the moon had gone into shadow, and stretched the walk out by stopping at each turn and looking up at the eclipse. When I reached the centre the moon was mostly in shadow, and glowed a muddy orange colour,with a fingernail of brilliant light peeking from the edge.

Beautiful.

The Red Thread of Creativity

// October 26th, 2010 // No Comments » // creativity, Uncategorized

*****

There’s an old story about a Buddhist Monk going to his teacher and asking:

‘In whom does Buddha cause passion’

The teacher replies:

‘The Buddha causes passion in everyone’

Monk:

‘Then how do we get rid of it?’

Teacher:

‘Why should we get rid of it?’

*****

Sometimes Buddhism is presented as a bloodless, and fatalistic religion, one where all passion is seen as something to be extinguished. That’s not really the case at all, but the assumption is pretty sticky.

Burt it’s not just in Buddhism that passion is seen as something to be extingushed. That idea is everywhere.

I’ve see it in everyday conversations, places I’ve worked, hospitals, writing groups, on-line forums, and even art classes I’ve attended.

Our culture can be decidedly anti-passions and pro objective decision making process (ie: bloodless). Unless it’s in the form of an advertisement trying to invoke the precise flutter of passion needed to override your objection to buying that over-priced sports car/ handbag / telecommunications device.

The dominant message is that viewing the world objectively trumps viewing the world subjectively almost every time.

I’ve never been sure why; we live inside the world, not beside it, taking notes on a clipboard (or overpriced telecommunications device).

Try and get passionate about something that doesn’t involve financial money markets or making machines, and you’ll get plenty of messages about how it’s not practical to view that passion as a career path, or a serious pursuit, that just wouldn’t be practical. Apparently, the things you’re passionate about are best done in the basement, alone, late at night.

Please don’t offend the serious people.

All that is fine, I have the choice to ignore it, right?

Well, not really. Because whenever I go to write, or talk, or paint about things I’m passionate about, the same arguments come up from inside my head.

“They really don’t want to hear/read/see this”

“That’s not practical.”

“What a waste of their time and yours”

“Grow up”

I’ve done quite the job of integrating all those messages.

I’m sure the messages spring out of the good intent to keep us safe from being overwhelmed by our desires, but when they result in us being overwhelmed by abstract obligations to people we don’t know, then things are a little out of balance.

And isn’t balance the thing? A balance between our passions and our obligations, balance between subjective and objective, between wisdom from outside, and wisdom from within?

Going back to Buddhism for just a second, they have a concept called the ‘Red Thread’. The Red Thread is a metaphor for the core passion that we bring to our lives, it represents a love of the things that we care most deeply about, and that help to drive our lives.

The string of fire that courses through us, enlivening everything it touches

Why should we get rid of that?

I’ve been participating in Leah’s Creative Every Day challenge for a while now, but haven’t done much on this month’s theme: Passions. I often feel hesitant talking about some of the creative things I’m passionate about, because it generally amounts to a list of things that not many people care about. Having a blog devoted entirely to the subject of creativity is really helping with that, but still, the insecurity lingers.

This is the attitude I’m trying to foster about that: “So what. They’re the things I’m into, I can find a way to work these into my working life. Maybe I can do that in a way that gets some other people to care about them, too”

One way to strengthen that attitude is by naming these passions.

So, here is my Red Thread of Creativity list:

• Labyrinths
• Poetry
• Yoga / Meditation
• Shiva Nata
• Blogging
• Writing
• Cartooning
• Painting
• Improv Theatre
• Surfing

They’re all things I’ve put lots of time into. They’re all things I’d love to be doing, or reading about, or writing about. I’m doing some of these things now, some obsessively, some things on the list are in hibernation, but I know I’ll get back to them. Some activities might not even strike others as being creative at all (surfing?) but I feel the link, subjectively, if not objectively.

What kind of things make it onto your ‘Red Thread of Creativity’ list? I’d love to hear!

*****

Sleepy Buddha

// June 18th, 2010 // 6 Comments » // creative parent, curiosity, illustration

I love to peek in at our boys when they’re asleep. Our 4 year old is having a difficult time at the moment, learning to socialise with his little brother and his friends from next door. It’s hard.

He’s navigating all this stuff and learning, but right now things are a little fraught.

So when Finn falls asleep, the day’s tension drains away from his face, and he looks so peaceful and relaxed. Like a little sleeping Buddha all twisted up in his sheets.

I love seeing him like that. It’s a reminder that even though things are a little tough for him right now, that’s all just surface movement and deep down he’s really  o.k.

*****

I was waiting for a bus the other day, and running a little late, worried that I might not get home on time.

I could feel the tension rising and there was a whole lot of mental chatter happening about the bus, about being late.

This expanded to commentary on the people crossing the road while dodging traffic (chatter), the McCain-Palin bumper sticker on a car going past (chatter-chatter), cigarette smoke hitting my face from someone else waiting for the bus (chatter-chatter-chatter).

Then I looked up at a tree across the road from the bus stop.

One branch bent slightly over the road and a handful of leaves rustled in the breeze, they looked for a moment like small green fingers beckoning me. The flash of bright green and the soft movement reached me, and brought me back to myself.

The chatter in my head calmed down. And I was just there for a moment standing quietly, at the bus stop, in my body, waiting for a bus to arrive and take me home.

Everything was soft, and alert at the same time. As if the small gesture from the tree had briefly awakened the sleepy Buddha in me, and he’d lifted his head off the pillow and looked around.

Then the bus pulled up and I got on. And I couldn’t find my ticket, and the exhaust was smelly, and my shoulders ached from carrying my laptop around, and …