The body's path
Blind contour drawing creates a slowing down. The hand must follow the eye moving over the form--not ever looking down at the paper. No racing ahead to see what's next, no opportunity for judgments. Just like meditation slows the mind down so it can ultimately see itself.
Trust
When I let the form that is mostly empty emerge from the ground that is mostly full, I trust that the material which is paper, and the idea which is bone, have a goodness of fit. Just like trusting when meditating that what I am striving to become is already present within me.
Silence
In drawing sometimes the effort isn't in adding marks but in lifting these away. Just like the true quiet of the mind is always present, and over time words gradually lift away to reveal the form of it's silence.
The Pattern
My life is filled with choices that direct my conscious actions from an unconscious well of patterns. How strong to make the mark, how much pressure to apply, how much space to involve. Patterns only partially intuited, just like the versions of aggression, ignorance and desire that shape the patterns of my resistance to inner peace.
The Story
Sometimes art is in the way a moment comes together--the materials, the idea, the drawing, the feelings--to make the narrative of a bigger lesson,
After I drew this apple during my last meditation retreat, I wrote this in my journal,
I kept wanting a finer more majestic paper to draw on but these humble sheets just kept smiling and tuning their bright white faces up to receive the ink. In the light of such willingness how could I judge them as unworthy.
Of all the art I did during that visit--this drawing and my thoughts about the paper told the best story of our impermanent, insubstantial world, and of how nothing matters and yet everything is important.
