Our driveway has a slight up hill onto the road and it is ice.
Slippery wet ice.
I fill one book a month.
When I die, they will be able to build a small house wtih the journals I've kept over the years.
I used to love my walk but now it's such hard work.
I want to get back to loving it again.
Now with the leg, I look for reasons not to walk.
I long for the talking-to-myself-out-loud kind of walk,
not the counting-my-steps kind of walk that I do now.
the poetry would be gone from my work.
This week I'm finishing up the three pieces I took with me to Mexico.
It feels good to be able to stitch again as much as I need to.
Some say that this text is India's most important gift to the world.
It tells us that we are meant to be as much at home in our inner consciousness
as in the world of physical reality.
1. there is an infinite changeless reality beneath the world of change
2 this same reality lies at the core of every human
3 the purpose of life is to discover this reality through life experience
Abstract design comes from inside.
The combination is what separates a work of art from the every dayness of experience.
It also gives the work an alien feeling that is mercilessly intimate.
(Frank Webb, painter)
the deer in my driveway
my fragile life
8 comments:
(((Judy))) namaste
"Representative stuff comes from out there.
Abstract design comes from inside.
The combination is what separates a work of art from the every dayness of experience.
It also gives the work an alien feeling that is mercilessly intimate.
(Frank Webb, painter)
that is the best quote I have ever read about abstraction!
Mo,
I am never inclined to question a blog comment, but I cannot wrap my head around the paradox of "combination is what separates". I adore a good paradox. Works of art (for me) come from the "every dayness".
Judy,
Are you destroying some of your journals to give them a quilt life?
Roxanne this quote is one of those great big light bulb moments for me, saying in words how the subjective nature of abstraction makes art with the wonder of every day
Roxanne, I have been working with the journals for more than 20 years. I wouldn't say that I am destroying them - I am re-reading them and then using the paper, or the covers, or the entire book. My journals (and time itself) are my primary material . xo
Judy, destroying was a poor choice of words. I actually think it's a beautiful method for bringing words to cloth.
Mo, I honor your read on this. I too, like the reference to the authentucity of the source of abstraction. Just questioning the juxtaposition of choice words.
so much in here to share. i'd like to have a cuppa.
the images reminded me of steps before I read the post.
i too have journaled my whole life, and have several boxes of them. i too am thinking of destroying many, especially the ones from my angry marriage. a lot of repetitive words and this is all fine but boring to read. cathartic. sometimes what we write is not as good for a reader as it is for a writer.
and i too am having trouble walking. maybe arthritis, which i manage by monitoring my foods, but maybe a knee replacement. gads no. so i think about how precious steps are. that is a big change for an old dancer, to value small steps.
Bravo! As an old arthritic ridden dancer with 2 bionic knees whose feet and ankles are are trying to suppress my way forward, I keep pushing to put one foot in front of the other, I'll be contemplating on this post as it rings so true for me. The part about abstraction and realism also touches the bone of contention we discussed today at an event at the New England Quilt Museum, so I'll be referring attendees and speakers back to your post to help light our way forward in this discussion. Thank you Judy!
In my faith practice (Christian, Anglican Tradition), God is the I AM that is changeless. And lives within us, by His/Her Spirit. Today being St. Patrick's Day, we remember "St. P's Breastplate" (aka The Lorica)...God before me, behind me, to my left, to my right, above me, below me...Guiding head, heart, hands, feet -- and so words, heart-beat, stitches, steps. God bless your legs and give you hope for clear paths on which to walk. Hugs!
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