Tea w/ Marilyn - 2024 06 06

 

I walk my dog at least three times a day. We traverse the same streets and sidewalks, looping out and back to the house morning, noon and evening. We walk north, east, south and west. We observe changes along the way: gardens blooming, construction underway, traffic, mechanical noise. We encounter our neighbours: familiar and new dogs and cats, chickens in their coops. We also encounter our wild neighbours: bees, worms, squirrels, crows, rats, mice, eagles, raccoons, skunks, coyotes, pigeons, flickers and songbirds.

Marilyn and I sat down for tea and talked about what it means to live a creative life and what constitutes 'evidence of activity'. 

My takeaways from the conversation:

• Talking about fearless art-making, what have we got to lose
• Creative people need constraints to channel the flow
• Finding our perch for observation
• The work speaks to us, speaks through us, we open ourselves to the work
• We may not understand what we are looking at
• It is the second, third, fourth glances when things are revealed
• We can know the truth of our humanity and life on earth
• The truth that we may know may be small and fleeting as a singular point of reference
• Many small and singular points of reference aggregate to a sum greater than the parts
• It is only through our small works of fleeting glimpses of truth that we can find our way through the day before us
• Monetizing creative works is antithetical to creating the works in the first place

A young crow perched on a sign at eye level as Adele and I walked by this morning. It did not flap away in alarm, but sat calmly as I pulled out my camera and quietly caught as many frames as I could.

It was only later, during our conversation, that Marilyn pointed out our young crow was perched on a 'No Parking' sign.

I often find my perch of observation is to be precariously balanced on the edge of creative discovery. I never know how it is going to turn out.