Artist's Process Part Thirteen

One day I will walk outside while remaining permanently,

There is no dropping any identity,

Childhood toys fall away as I find new direction,

Feeling whole did not require resolution or a complete ‘arrival’.

The one I would engage in wishful thinking enjoyed that game.

It goes as far as preserving sanity in daily encounters,

And more loosely as awareness sets into my daily practical living,

I rely on whatever is left when I stop.

Otherwise I am free to carry on. But then nothing more

Nothing more of me is felt, nothing more of me enters anything I do or make.

And those actions, works. It shows.

And I have observed, we all know it. Some can explain,

Some react, for some its described as vibe. It is ways of describing knowing.

Without why.

So I return by dropping.

There is a limit in what privacy, dark candle lit room, meditation can provide.

I also cannot partake in art with tensions and thoughts,

Stuck things I do not have magic to ‘move out of me because they are not me’

No, they are really fucking in me, and I made them, and they are real.

I need music, I have experienced how I can dance

And what comes from going with it without self consciousness,

It expresses the energy of what is held

that could not have been solved,

tears can flow where needed outcomes demand gradual progress,

when patience has not yet been transcended

by arriving at pleasing other states,

where again I can ask why I feel different even though nothing has changed.

So, this awareness is returned to,

And an ease about circumstances, judgements, evaluations, comparisons.

Because as humans would have it, after basic necessities,

I only feel about feeling whole and good,

And expressing this is art and movement avec music.

I am developing the courage and stopping the music.

It may become that there is less conflict to entertain,

So I can let go of the rope.

At that time I will likely make art and listen to music with deeper indulgence

I am practicing guitar regularly so that some day I can make music

Instead of spending hours looking for ‘things I like and can let go with’

Music that tells me, and instead express that sound that is of me.

Right now I have paint in my hands, I speak through this medium,

It is enough, I am satisfied. Before this I only danced and worked out.

But then it was not enough creative expression,

So this energy flowed into sex,

And it is just where attention and intention flowed,

So with painting, dance,  music,

I can walk defiant and proud of this independence,

Except when I return, and it is already happening,

And the ‘defiant and proud’ strategy is dropped

Along with that consortium member willingly for the

duration of Being real.

Also accepting that in my physical life,

I will likely be building up to defiance and pride by the next full moon.

The decisions, wants, judgements, what is willing to be invested,

Are just a lot less dramatic knowing one can jump,

Onto a trampoline with earphones, sweat, go back and forth to the canvas,

Then make love to the person you love and care about,

As friends, enjoying a simple kind loving animal cuddly time,

Without the burden to derive and unleash the entire granary

Of emotion and pent up energy from such experiences.

Because it is a choice now,

Not my definition. I am letting the undefinable be me.

I am letting this awareness permeate my identity,

When I am disconnected.

When in this space, there is no ‘important’ or any more ways.

I have found it in my nature to visualize, move, solve, express,

It is joy to be me doing these.

Philosophically, I think I am an artist then.

If I was to exist only when I think and

Feel alive as by others acceptance,

If not finding a vantage,

Then there would be no logical advantage to keep living.

The only thing of importance is that when the mind accepted

the end of my search was met with the intention to step in,

and ding, end the fight. I was the referee all along.

And the one that set the clockwork in motion in my head

To solve the problems of living, then existential things like feeling whole,

‘Who Am I’.

And ding, it is me.

But the momentum will not cease,

By evolution, lines of DNA, or conservation or energy,

Incarnational evolution; whatever.

The consortium members, each tasked with duking it out,

Solving, fixing to get access to basic needs

Including warmth and sense of connection with others,

To have identity derived from cultural roles and achievements;

These will not cease because of a momentary realization.

Each day now beginning again.

When even every night dreams and others in the daylight

Reinforce dependencies,

I return fallen or loosely bound; I begin again.

But each time remembering what that space is like,

Plus things to look forward to doing from there,

A millimeter of motivation only.

Those passageways are the only time resolution is needed now.

Bridges are a blessing.

They are a blessing.

Imagine bargoers without the assistance of alcohol,

‘okay, start, be happy’

Pretend to be not your normal identity and use this to

Express things to blame on alcohol.

Or express yourself and arrive at the same feeling,

But alcohol, weed. It can provide a sense of that space,

Where the mind is packed with dopamine,

To relax. It is chemical trust.

Use it, remember, observe what is happening.

My mind is tipsy, my body lighter,

‘hey, I can do the things I want to do!’

Say what I want to say, with comfort and safety that it is socially accepted.

Fine, but I only wanted to paint, dance, laugh a lot, make love,

Plan innovative ideas, and feel camaraderie.

Great, I see my nature. Ironically I need to feel good first

Before I want to express my nature,

This apparently is true also in psychology research

where subjects in studies were shown

to require an increase in energy levels prior to feeling happy or motivated.

Since I found happiness in the midst of misery

I concluded it was wise to shut up and hum.

Again, the solution transcending the intelligence of my mind.

Simply knowing what to do there and then.

Then the welling up camaraderie feeling, enthusiasm,

Opening painful traumas and very closely lived personal issues,

I feel good, I am focused on work, I am able to nurture simple real love,

I can meet or not meet people and accept others,

Maintain boundaries, and heal from personal wounds,

Recharge from and make decisions benefiting,

Recharging from strenuous effort, or misuse of energy,

Improper diet used to escape incessant inner conflict.

Why, because I don’t need him and her plus a spotlight and charm,

And would agree in a state of not wanting,

Having more energy to live rather than crunch on mentally working out concerns,

And a place, a space, activities to call home,

I am sincere.

And when I feel pressure, I don’t have to judge my actions,

There is a way back.

Do what is within highest principles,

Return to the place where I am them.

Until then, yes, and in every stage between,

Live by principles that serve my overall journey

All encompassing the social and personal sphere,

They are one.

I am the fluctuation, so while flagging in the wind,

I need principles and I need bridges.

Luckily our individual nature provides threads to the ‘me’.

That is most easily known in action expressing our nature,

Active meditation to categorize it, but blah.

And accepting being unknowable in stillness,

In pure meditation. Sounds gross now,

But absolutely a lifeline bridge to listen to want to return,

Since I have made a real decision.

After one real decision, it sets up a benchmark,

The feeling is sought in all future decisions,

And all made from the same space.

All the while fluctuating, accepting that I am a child,

Fresh born to this realization,

Nothing is automatic or a habit,

There is no final unity.

There is struggle to return.

Then, again, why did I even fall. All that dialogue.

Then music and painting and dancing.

Expecting the shock between that state and the one outside the front door.

Fine. But I imagine carrying that state into my day.

And there are many meditative techniques during the day,

Including looking at something I produced, or remembering a feeling I felt

In the middle of a whitewashed tense subway,

Closing eyes, observing breath,

Witnessing the observer in the middle of sneezing when the heart stops.

A multitude of fun metal activities while accounting, preparing reports,

Treating patients, shopping for a want on Amazon.

Its all much good, more fun now.

Whatever is happening, there is more in my life.