To be an unassuming chronicler of life

Artists — be they writers, photographers, painters, musicians, or other – have different goals and reasons for why they create. Some claim their craft is a way of bringing fantasy to life, or of probing the subconscious.  Others say they make art to express specific ideas, to explore certain topics, or to give a voice to the voiceless. Some want to make the world a more beautiful place. And many don’t know why they create, they just know that “they must”.

I’ve slowly been making my way through the book Creativity: Flow and the Psychology of Discovery and Invention by Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi. In it, I came across some words about the poet Mark Strand that really hit home for me.

“Patiently watching and listening to events unfolding around him, alternating between passionate involvement and sardonic detachment, [Strand] has found the pattern that best fits the predilections of his consciousness: to be an unassuming yet precise chronicler of life.”

“His craft” Mikkahily says “is to express in arresting and accurate language what he has learned from witnessing life”.

“Some artists get so involved in their creations that they lose their appetite for raw experience, but Strand welcomes ordinary life—puttering in the yard, having meals with the family, going on hikes, lecturing, even shopping.”

After all, “…the enterprise of writing makes sense only within the context of a broader, more mundane reality.”

Ah, to be a chronicler of life. Yes. That’s what it is.

Mundane, patterned, repetitive, unpredictable, beautiful, heartbreaking, changing, simple, complex, amazing life. I want to draw it all. Every day, forever.

Fall Walking - Crunching on Leaves

An old fall-y watercolor and ink illustration from my Illustration Friday days. It reminds me of back-to-school. Fall — such a poignant season of life!

In a field

I am the absence

of field.

This is

always the case.

Wherever I am

I am what is missing.

 

When I walk

I part the air

and always

the air moves in

to fill the spaces

where my body’s been.

 

We all have reasons

for moving.

I move

to keep things whole.

– Mark Strand (Keeping Things Whole)

 

Related posts:

Share

How to Provoke a Shark Attack (Happy August)

I like August. Things feel calmer; the days, more meaningful.

Perhaps it’s the realization that summer’s end is in sight, that explains the sense of peace that descends upon me. Once August hits, it suddenly feels so natural – so obligatory even – to slow down and enjoy the moments that remain. The crickets seem louder. The sunsets seem more vivid. I settle into an easeful rhythm and let myself appreciate the natural pace of things. Time with family, meteor showers (check them out on the eve of the 11th!) – August is for savoring these things.

Which is exactly why, for the next few weeks, I’m going to keep it short here on the blog. I’ll probably have some pictures to share, and a thought or two, here and there. But I won’t be as wordy as usual. (I’m sure you’ll appreciate my brevity as much as I will. I think I’ve been talking too much, lately).

But before I go, I have a few more things to say about August:

For many people, August means one thing: the Shore (that’s the beach, to all you non-Jersey folks). Every August, when I was growing up, about half of my friends would disappear for a few weeks to go a’summering at the Jersey Shore. Those of us who remained in town spent our days at the community pool, eating candy, re-reading Harry Potter, and discussing the summer reading assignments that we hadn’t done yet. I didn’t mind not being a shore-kid. I’m afraid of sharks, you see.

I know, sharks are a supposedly silly thing to fear. But c’mon — those TEETH! I prefer to swim in water in which I can see my toes.

Anyway, I must have sharks on the brain because I made this during breakfast the other day. I call it “How to Provoke a Shark Attack”:"Sharks are Flabby"

And with that, I bid you Happy August. Be safe, be well, and don’t go insulting any sharks.

 

 

 

Related posts:

Share