Discussions/Essays – Page 32

One of artist Yayoi Kasuma’s amazing Infinity Room installations.

“Foregoing self, the universe grows I.” — Sir Edwin Arnold, Poet

Perhaps the greatest thing we love about making art is that it commands the utmost out of us. When we commit fully, we forget about ourselves. And thus, we waste no energy on such abstract matters as success, money, recognition, or even goals. All our attention, all our effort, is swiftly and most efficiently directed towards learning and creating. Even the idea of accumulating knowledge or skill matters little, for the process of creation pushes us above that simplistic dimension. Everything serves the moment. And in so doing, one’s life becomes magically effective. It also becomes more generous and joyful — the forgetting of what has happened in the past and what might happen in the future brings great peace.

“Real generosity toward the future lies in giving all to the present.” — Albert Camus, Writer.

All too often, our thoughts dominate us. Modern society especially idolizes cerebral activity. It worships images and words, even when they prove, as they most often do, to be completely illusive or false. That is such a world most of us live in; all of us competing, comparing, judging ourselves and others all due to our deep and often un-confronted insecurity. Sometimes an obsession with thinking and living in that manner leads not only to great unhappiness but also mental illness.

Painter Edvard Munch, the pioneering expressionist most widely known for his painting “The Scream” suffered severe problems with bipolar and other forms of psychosis.

Thinking, in its right place, is useful. Knowledge and skills acquired have practical application for survival in the physical universe. But thinking all the time, incessantly, is counterproductive if not harmful. Thoughts, when self-serving, puts the mind in obstruction to being and in the way of creating. I know from personal experience and deep inquiry, that I’m most ineffective and inefficient when I allow the mind to dominate the present moment. And when I have done so in my craft, the results are always less than spectacular.

The critical mind that measures, condemns and justifies prevents flow. Since all thoughts are past registrations — thinking is essentially a set of prior accumulations of information, opinions and ideas — our prejudices stop us from being absolutely true and sensitive to what is actually and always new, that which sits directly in front of us right here, right now. Both life and our art requires our fullest capacity. Only when we forget the self and lose the desire to compete, judge, or complain can our minds truly operate in a manner that is free, fresh and alive. When the mind is quiet and liberated from distraction or prejudice, we find clarity and arrive at truth.

Truth is the offspring of silence and meditation.” — Isaac Newton, Scientist

The legendary Bill Tytla was deeply serious about his craft. Like all great animators/actors, he works to forget himself and become his character.

So we must ask, how serious are we about our craft? How serious are we about ourselves? Because if we are serious about our work and about who we are as human beings, we move in a direction that is conducive to real living — one of attentiveness and sensitivity. It means looking at life and our work as if we’re seeing with fresh clear eyes rather than “seeing through glass darkly.” Very few people on this planet are truly serious about living. They prefer to view the world thru coloured lenses, choosing to live for pleasure or in avoidance of pain.

Most of us live dominated by some degree of psychological fear, whether we are conscious of it or not. Even those who lively strictly, such as those who abide by the customs or practices dictated by established institutions are not so serious about life despite such apparent stoicism and devotion. Strict guidelines for work, play and family and devout conservatism is not the kind of seriousness we’re talking about here. Instead, we are talking about the kind of discipline that requires us to reject all conditioning, to unlearn what has been learned. The artist inherently knows this and he knows that he cannot follow another person’s way, regardless of their authority or its tempting path to material success. He knows it takes great personal responsibility to actually live free, unburdened by education or propaganda. He must find and live his own journey for truth because truth is not so easily found in books, rituals or authority figures.

“It’s life that matters, nothing but life — the process of discovering, the everlasting and perpetual process, not the discovery itself, at all.” — Fyodor Dostoryevsky, Writer.

Sometimes, as a teacher, I meet a student who wants answers, but in truth what he wants is results. What is forgotten, or clearly not realized, is that knowledge in itself is fairly useless (as proven by the fact that almost everything and anything can be found today on the internet). Even the mental grasp and understanding of something has limited usage. It is only when we explore — such as when we are free to play — can we possibly turn such mental, verbal information into something real, something experiential, something possibly exciting. Only then is there hope of realization. Until we realize the truth of something, we can’t truly understand it. This is why there is such failing in the entire education system, both inside brick and mortar institutions and at online schools. Knowledge is given, but know-how is not because know-how must be preceded by knowing why. And the only way to learn about the “why” is to look slowly, deeply and attentively at our work and more importantly, at ourselves. This requires both patience and the ability to ignore our mind’s propensity to tell us to hurry up and succeed. If there’s anything I’ve learned about learning is that information alone has no staying power. It’s bound to be ignored or forgotten.

This was the kind of math I was doing during my studies of macroeconomics in University almost 30 years ago. I never knew why I was doing any of this at all. Miraculously, I landed at the top of that class, but truthfully speaking, I succeeded only for the sake of succeeding. Hence, I didn’t understand any of it. I learned nothing then and I know nothing of it now.

Perseverance, secret of all triumphs. ” — Victor Hugo, Writer

It may not be easy but it is simple. If we persist, if we live generously in the moment — which means to be 100% attentive — then all things will work themselves out. Then maybe our thoughts can leave us alone (at least more often) and let other parts of our mind and the rest of our entire being do their proper jobs. The human being is an amazing thing. Let’s not waste it in the pursuit of nonsense. Living and learning (which is what discipline means) is the vision, rather than ambitiousness. Even goals are just temporary targets, placeholders to keep us moving forward. We only have to make sure we’re on the right path which means, of course, that we must know where we are now. Making art is a great way to finding out that truth, ironically, by forgetting; we find ourselves by foregoing our obsession for personal security. And the search for truth, like virtue, is its own reward.

The inspiring Yayoi Kasuma was berated and ignored most of her artistic career. Now, at 91 years of age, she’s regarded as a genius, someone who’s viewed as ahead of her time. But what’s important is that she found peace and her own sense of truth thru her work. Her complete devotion and passion for art drove her to continue despite the rejection and her long battle with mental illness. Today, Kasuma’s exhibitions/installations are the most highly-attended art shows on the entire planet.

“Every time I have had a problem, I have confronted it with the axe of art.” — Yayoi Kasuma, Artist

A photo of my garden, where I spend almost every morning in deep reflection and quiet. The action to sit in silence, in rain, sun or snow, is not a habit but a ritual consciously chosen and attentively engaged.

“Not until we are lost do we begin to understand ourselves.” — Henry David Thoreau, Writer.

In a time of crisis, like what has taken hold of the world today, it is difficult to think of or talk about anything else but the crisis itself.

As the modern world comes to a halt, it quietly presents an opportunity to stop and think — about our lives and the lives of everyone and everything else that represents sentient life. Modern neoliberal economics (an almost unregulated form of capitalism that entails a constantly growing economy, globalization and just in time supply chains) have brought with it an attitude dismissive of ecology, equality and the deep bonds of community and locality. It has changed the relationship between man and nature (as well as between man and man). It has also made clear the ease at which things can go so bad, so quickly, so extensively. It’s been a huge price to pay for accelerated material progress and convenience. And now, perhaps with the slowing down of everything, as painful as it may be for many whose lives and livelihood depend on a hustling economy, it might be a call to action, the kind of action that calls into question of what has become habitual about ourselves and our thinking, both individually and as a society. Why? Because what we do habitually is what we accept.

This video, uploaded in 2012 using 2009 statistics, shows the wealth distribution in America (Global figures are even more dramatic). As of 2019, the data differentials have magnified much more so, as three people alone (yes that’s not a typo) own more than half of the population in the United States and just 26 people globally now own more than 50% of the planet’s population per Oxfam studies. Considering that more than 55% of the world’s population still earns less than $7.45 USD per day* we have come to accept this new reality without much awareness or compassion and have quietly become blind to inequality. (*The World Bank, atrociously, still uses $1.90 USD per day as the poverty line.)

Is more still the answer to our problems? When or what is the meaning of enough? Is it possible to live with more connection rather than more stuff? How habitual have we become, reacting rather than truly paying attention to people or things? Can we re-align our focus towards action that is not habitual or mechanical, that which is attentive, clear and compassionate, action that is respectful of everything natural, no matter how small or seemingly insignificant.

“The mind is quiet when there is attention.” — J. Krishnamurti

It is a call to ask ourselves do we have any real love in our hearts? For love is necessary for real passion (and compassion). This is where our creative and innovative spirit merges from, and not, as some suggest, that it comes only out of competition and the greed for individual power and wealth, a mindset that is patriarchal and nationalistic and has brought with it thousands of wars in our brief history on this planet. The most brilliant creations, both artistic and scientific provide ample proof that innovation happens in spite of this violence rather than because of it.

Nikola Tesla was a brilliant scientist who created for creation’s sake and for the sake of the whole of mankind. He never did his craft for power or money and passed into history without little of either. It simply wasn’t as important.

Selfishness is ever so deceptive. The mind disguises it in the form of pride, ambition, security, or meritocracy. If we become habitually selfish, then there is no room for learning. We close ourselves (and others) off. We focus more on ourselves, our ego than our craft, more on our individual success rather than its potential benefit to the world. In a constantly competitive winners-take-all philosophy, a mindset that might be currently responsible for driving us towards a world filled with narcissism and hoarding of wealth (and then justifying it), there is little room for anyone or anything else. It’s astonishing how we forget that we are all in this together, and that we’re all intimately linked no matter how far apart we may be physically.

Van Gogh painted because he needed to. Passion alone drove him.

As mentioned often, habitual behaviour is a result of conditioning. Once conditioned it’s very hard to observe the world or even ourselves with any sort of objectivity or freshness. If we see with prejudice, we can’t see at all. This is true in the approach to our relationships with people and the world around us, as well as with ourselves and our art. When we get used to looking and reacting the same way to things whether it be our work and our relationships we begin to form identities and get used to seeing only the labels. We get used to (or grow tired of) our spouses no matter how kind or beautiful they might be. We get used to (or bored of) seeing our work, no matter how good or flawed. This explains blindspots in art and why we need honest feedback. It’s all too easy to become casually indifferent, dismissive, judgemental and violent. This is the danger of habitual thinking; we become heartless and mechanical. We become blind to reality.

“There is danger in every habit, the habit of smoking, repetitive action, in the employment of words, thought or behaviour. This makes the mind utterly insensitive.” — J. Krishnamurti, Philosopher

What about good habits we might ask? Is there such a thing? I personally no longer believe so. It probably explains why it’s so rare and difficult to build so-called good habits versus how easy it is to create obviously bad ones. This is true when it comes to our profession as well as in how we eat, speak, move and act towards others. In art, it’s very clear that doing something habitually means we’re not truly connecting with the task/object in hand. There is no honest relationship. Hence, it’s so hard to find any flow — that state of beautiful effortless harmony and maximum effectiveness — in our actions because flow is a result of a deep sensitivity, the kind of sensitivity that abandons us when we are selfish and excessively cerebral; focus too hard on the results and we ruin our chances for success. In life, the matters are much more insidious because we are seldom able to catch ourselves getting lost in routine and mindless disorder. To see everything honestly, as if it’s the first time, is perhaps the only way out. It’s also a reminder that unbiased truthful observation might be the most precious thing about living.

“I have realized that the past and future are real illusions, that they exist in the present, which is what there is and all there is.” — Alan Watts, Philosopher

Societies everywhere have become increasingly mechanical over the last century and a half and the pace of that change has been accelerating in the past 40 years. As we approach a crisis in attention, it’s no wonder humans all over this planet are filled with anxiety and or depression, living in constant attachment to desire and fear, psychological dilemmas often mistakenly redefined by the symbols of time and money. Studies show that up to 70% of people in modern cities regularly consume some sort of prescription, legal or illegal drug, and this is not including other forms of addiction or dependency such as smoking, alcohol, television, internet gaming or gambling we might use for placating or distracting ourselves. Slowing things down might be the perfect opportunity, if not the beginning of the answer to our plight. It is a chance to look inward while being fully cognizant of what’s happening outward.

Cartoon, courtesy of the wonderful Gary Larson.

As the mechanical world loses its steam temporarily – for how long, no one knows for sure — there lies an opportunity to use our minds not solely for diverting or suppressing our problems but to confront them directly. For each person to look within themselves and realize that it’s not all about themselves but about others. Being an artist has always been about that — our need for individual expression is a way of connecting our destiny with that of others. And as hard as things are now — and I have some understanding of this, as I’ve been quarantined twice in my life and made very sick do to a virus — we must always remember that “this too” will end, even if it only looks like the beginning.

I’ve never had much use for the word or idea of hope. But today, I hope that people everywhere can emerge from this crisis with greater consciousness, compassion and cooperation. And I’m sure our creativity won’t suffer because of it.