All Creation Awaits….
....how well you exercise your own creativity,
will only be matched by the time you spend ignoring what other’s say,
and getting on with the real work of creating a place for what you have to say,
even to the point of daring to pique or provoke at the same time....
What you have to show of your work, will in time be measured by the hours of toil and sweat you have invested and not by dancing to the tune of those who gather around to offer compliments of your success. If you are to succeed in this business of creativity, ( and make no-mis-take….it is a business) then you should first learn what it means to ignore all other’s, while pushing your-self to the limit of your endurance.
Patience is a means of great gain for achieving artistic status, but singleness of eye is the labored twin brother of stamina that will in the end get you to your goal. Having a vision is not the rush of adrenalin that one stimulates during long hours of conversation, which in the end will fade unless one has a fire that burns in the belly of the beast. Having talked before groups, I have seen the expressions of the many as they write their notes of every word. I have watched the pumped up attitudes as they swoon and swirl, drunk upon the fermented liquor of an hours character talk. I have looked into their eyes, beyond the outward smiles and seen the demons of emptiness that gnaw at their souls, as these are so wanting to grasp onto a belief of what I have just said.
....and in the end of that day, I to walked away knowing that come Monday morning, these also would once again be as fodder for the wolves….wolves that I have seen, come in many flavors and sizes, while it only remains for them to take your dream and smash your creativity.
Many think that failure is some dread-full dis-ease, but I would say that if I can fail….then give me more and more, since by what those other’s have called failure….I will wel-come to be dis-eased. Dis-ease me often and much, for by this work of grace I will yet succeed….come and take this ‘talking of my vision’, for I have not the time to spend talking of such. I have listened to the many come and tell me of their visions and quests and as the years roll on, they keep grasping back in time, to what they remember….all-ways hoping that I will say “yes, I see it your way.”
Yes, their was a time when so as not to offend or not wanting to see the hopelessness that accompanies what comes after not saying yes, I also said the yes word and sent them on their way. One may ask what is so bad with creating a myth of an-other’s vision….but as the years have rolled by, I have re-turned often enough to the darkened alley-ways, of those souls who have lost the fire. I walked where the demons of slave trading captive inspirations hold those who have lost their way and noted now how they have turned bitter, that I played in their game. I have walked these alley-ways and watched the barren empty faces with eye sockets all shrunken sadly within and known all to sadly that here are the walking dead….
....that was then, and this is now….and so I walked away from it all….
Yes it’s better now, since I buried all my demons and gave them rest, like how do you fear a demon when to be honest with your-self, is but to look within the mirror and see that one who wants to take your place. I mean that if you can not love yourself, how can you love your other self as a work of art?
....and so i walk some more now, waundering throughout these spaces of time. I still run into those other’s who used to seek me out, the letters and phone calls still pass my way, while also now I get those emails of some wanting a word of yes. These are they who still with downward eyes will cut down an isle to escape the embarrassment of having to stop….while some will stop and wonder when I’m coming back, since they still remember those conversations so well. And then there are those who later on, I will think about with tears running down my face….since once again, I have looked past the smiles and seeing beyond the eyes, into the windows of their souls….the utter emptiness of suspended souls, where the fire that once burned within their spirit….is now all gone out….
Create, create and still create….create some more at the expense of time, find within your own self that beast that burns and roars and never-ever let him go to sleep. Starve not this beast, but feed him daily from the passion of imagination’s deep dark pool. As he screams at you, know this is only the way he sustains the inspiration that is played across your video screen of all i am….and be assured that there is no-passion that burns so fiercely as the one this beast has so kindled across your resolution of quested vision.
Your vision is no-more yours, if you have shared it with other’s in the market places of desire, where the money-changers and pick-pockets still ply their trade. This vision that I had was the lady of my soul, till I turned her out for other’s to know and use….and then came my day of reckoning when back home she came….tattered now in filthy clothes from the whore she had be-come. My world fell apart in that moment and dis-eased though she was, I took her in with hands open wide….not caring any-more for what other’s would say or think, (telling tale bearers run a wide circle around an artist’s path, but one can never be hurt from their tales unless one opens his//her heart to be a listening bearer of tales) and so I gave her the right-full place once again within my heart.
Two hearts beat within the body of man//woman, one pumps the blood that gives you breath, while from the other beats the passion that lights the fire of a soul’s dwelling spirit. Loose the one and so passes your thought out life, loose the other and phlegmatically drown your spirit.
Contrary to what we have been taught, we are all born as artistic and creative beings….this same spark is not with-held from some so that other’s might have more. When I was a child I thought and acted as a child and those older then I, gave me colored pencils, colored paper and scissors to carve my creations. We were told and encouraged to exercise our creations and praised for those swirls we drew. Then came the day when those we looked up to, told us that it would be best if we stayed within the lines of what other’s drew and then we were encouraged to only use the colors that fit within those lines. Then as we grew older….and….next came the day, when those other’s asked me to re-turn my colored pencils or else they took them away while I slept at night. We were told that imagination was only good for children and fairy dreams and that now since I was growing up I was to act older and so came the days turning into years where we were brainwashed with the hogwash of academic-religious-political-after-talk.
....and so after all this, who has ever went back and asked those who were in control….”you took my pencils and colored paper away, why?
There has been within my-self the battle of dueling conversations such as; being commercial-or-being artistic….creating to sell-or-selling to create….full-time-or-part-time….making money-or-money making….my marketing of ‘wood art’....my image-or-my ‘wood art’....my image of marketing….and in the end I have found that this also was just useless conversation. Why I do what I do with woodworking is because of the fire that burns within my bowls.
Can I say that again; ”why I do what I do with woodworking is because of the fire that burns within my bowls!” I do not work the wood to create money, I do not do work the wood to create an avenue for my retirement, I do not work the wood to create a name, I work the wood because their burns within me a fire that I have tasted and this is all that I can do!
....the following is a quote from ”Sun Tzu The Art of War” and chapter 1;
”Warfare is a great matter to a nation; it is the ground of death and of life; it is the way of survival and of destruction, and must be examined.”
Now allow me to edit or comment myself on this….what do I do and what I do, is but the first step in understanding who I am and why I do what I do. Warfare or this beast that rages within me, which also could be interrupted as ‘my passion’ is a great matter. My passion is woodworking….I am a worker of wood! Remember now to keep those conversations short that one has with one’s own self or next you will be going off base and having a conversation such as the following. Am I a worker of wood first or a craftsman or an artist and if so which one came first….and then by putting yourself first, you now need to maintain yourself, so that you are a marketable commodity that can then be sold, so as to have a steady flow of money, so that you can now create….and on and on and on….it goes. Marketing yourself does not create ‘wood art’, but creating ‘wood art’ does market an expression of your-self!
Now we can start to understand why “warfare is a great matter”, since my ‘warfare’ now be-comes my ‘warefare’! My working of the wood is my ‘warefare’ and this ‘warefare’ is a ‘great matter’, just as understanding this great matter that goes on within my-self, is the fire that so inspires me to have imagination. Having said all that, I can now go on to say; “my warefare is a great matter to a nation.” Do not pass this one by so fast, go back and read it again and again, while tasting the words and the thought that are spoken herein. We do not much in today’s fast culture taste words any-more and before one can taste a the word, one must first have time to hear the words. How often I have sat and listen to an-other one talking, while never hearing what they were saying, because I was so busy all-ready formatting a grouped statement of words to spew forth, just as soon as they had to pause and take a breath of air. One of the greatest things I ever learned was to just be content with ‘chewing the words’ of other’s.
Warefare is a great matter to a nation! And so who is this great nation, that is of such important matter to my warefare? For a definition of nation let us look at the word ‘aggregation’; which when heard and tasted comes out like this, “a group, body, or mass composed of many distinct parts or individuals.”—taken from Merriam-Webster’s Online Dictionary, 10th Edition. Well so again what is that word ‘nation’, well we here at LumberJocks are a nation of woodworkers who love working wood! And although we come from many different styles of cultures, political up-bringing’s and religious//non-religious mind-sets….here we gather as a group of many in number who create objects of art out of wood. How I create, how you create, how we create is not what makes us such a fine nation….but what makes us such a fine nation is that we create! And so it is now understood that creating warefare or projects or art or call it by whatever name you like….is the passion of the nation.
Going on we can next listen to what Sun Tzo had to say when he said; “it is the ground of death and of life;” and is this not so with what we do? The ‘ground’ I stand upon, the ‘groundwork’ of all I do is my working the wood….this is my passion and ‘my passion’ is not for sale! To sell ‘my passion’ would be the same as my turning this passion out daily and sending her out into the market places of the money-changers and pick-pockets where she would then be-come my whore. Been there, done that and it was death….but, when I understood ‘my passion’ I saw that she was of great gain to me as a means of life and I also mean a great abundant life. Sun Tzo goes on to say; ” it is the way of survival and of destruction” and so now I ask myself, what is the meaning of that fine word there ‘it’? How many times during the day, do we use the word ‘it’, till the word it-self has be-come dulled with use and to our hearing. “It” is the way, “it is the way”....’the way’....’is’....’it’ and the importance I give to ‘it’ will be all about my way “of survival and of destruction”. If I learn no-thing else, let me learn to hear and understand the importance of ’it’ as my ground from which comes my passion, which in turn is my life!
Sun Tzo now goes on to say ; “and must be examined.” How well I understand and examine ‘the beast’ that so beats within me and flames my burning desire, will in the end be how well I nurture this grace-full beast as before my eyes she be-comes the beauty of my beast and the passion of my eye!
What I have written here in this story blog, may be interrupted by some as no-more then the mere writings of a mad man, and right they may be for I am a mad man….a man who is madly in love with his ‘wood art’ and one who has a passion that burns fiercely within, as I labor to create art. While I labor to create this thing I call my ‘wood art’, the work that is in reality really being done is that the passion of my ‘wood art’ is busy creating all that I am. I apologize if I have digressed un-duly in my writing contained herein, but then digress is what I do so often as I waunder through-out the ether’s….and so I will leave you with one last group-of-word associations, as stated by one called Albert Pinkham Ryder.
The following is taken from: ”Paragraphs from the Studio of a Recluse”
“It is the first vision that counts. The artist has only to remain true to his dream and it will possess his work in such a manner that it resemble the work of no other man—-for no two visions are alike, and those who have reached the heights have all toiled up the steep mountains by a different route. To each has been revealed a different panorama.
Imitation is not inspiration, and inspiration can only give birth to a work of art. The least of a man’s original emanation is better than the best of a borrowed thought. In pure perfection of technique, coloring and composition, the art that has already been achieved may be imitated, but never surpassed. Modern art must strike out from the old and assert its individual right to live through Twentieth Century impressionism and interpretation. The new is not revealed to those whose eyes are fashioned in worship upon the old. The artist of today must work with his face turned toward the dawn, steadfastly believing that his dream will come true before the setting of the sun.
The canvas I began ten years ago I shall perhaps complete today or tomorrow. It has been ripening under the sunlight of the years that come and go. It is not that a canvas should be worked at. It is a wise artist who knows when to cry ‘halt’ in his composition, but it should be pondered over in his heart and worked out with prayer and fasting.
Art is long. The artist must buckle himself with infinite patience. His ears must be deaf to the clamor of his insistent friends who would quicken his pace. His eyes must see naught but the vision beyond. He must await the season of fruitage without haste, without worldly ambitions, without vexation of spirit. An inspiration is no more than a seed that must be planted and nourished. It gives growth as it grows to the artist, only as he watches and waits with his highest effort.” —by Albert Pinkham Ryder; (1847 – 1917) ”Paragraphs from the Studio of a Recluse”
....belly pits that await the fire….
....while creating art all-ways goes on….
”....in a moment of passion i tasted your fire, as coming from the heavens of inspiration, where riding on the wings of imagination, i was soon made to understand my desire for creating beauties of ‘wood art’….”
-- --frank, NH, http://rusticwoodart.tumblr.com/