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Loosening the stays.
An image came into my head in Venice. A young woman in a tight corset, her stays being loosened by two others, an image resonating through my dusky thoughts. This is what I came to Venice for, to loosen the constraints of time and of scale, of inspiration and even of morality; to work, away from rights and wrongs, techniques and rules, and on a scale limited only by materials, on themes revealed by the mysteries of ages, informed by the living presence of long-dead artists, inspired by the beauty of place, of animals and of women. To look into the eyes of a bird or a cat or a stranger and to see universal infinite consciousness and power. Venice is the place to lose yourself. No maps, losing ourselves in the secret rooms of our hearts and of this world. The image is still vague, forming, haunting the edges of my subconscious, but slowly it reveals itself. For now, all I can do is to remain patient, and to remain receptive. Seeking and finding.I am looking for a place; we all are, I suppose. It is what set us upon this road, where others chose security. A place I have seen; existing or non-existent, real or imagined, that contains the echos and the reverberation of the centuries. A chantier, filled with sculptures, finished and incomplete, ringing with music. It is a place I have seen, once, in Venice, but I cannot know if it is a real place or if it is a dream. I know where to look for it though, and 2 days ago I went looking for it in all seriousness. This is a huge risk, because the reality can destroy the dream, the reason why I am wary of finding. The mystery, the beauty, is in the search. Picasso said, "I never seek, I find." Well, good for him; but for me, that would be a spiritual desert. Never to find, always to search, this would by my hope. I found this place, less beautiful than I remembered, but still charged with magic. The real mystery lies within, I think, and now I have to decide whether to go in, or to hold on to the dream. Life is mystery, certainty is dangerous. There are those who seek certainty, and then there are the visionaries, tolerated with mild amusement by the secure. But we knew, we always knew, long before this economic meltdown and the dissolution of certainty. We are the ones who love the darkness, the unknown. Everyone who has coaxed out of infinity an image, everyone who has torn from a violin the most basic notes, everyone who has worked the land or a garden, who has looked into the eyes of eternity..... We are the agents of change in this world. We have known the truth for decades. In a world of chaos, turn to the dreamers. Chief Seattle's speech.The Great Chief in Washington sends word that he wishes to buy our land. But how can you buy or sell the sky? the land? The idea is strange to us. If we do not own the freshness of the air and the sparkle of the water, how can you buy them? Every part of the earth is sacred to my people. Every shining pine needle, every sandy shore, every mist in the dark woods, every meadow, every humming insect. All are holy in the memory and experience of my people. We know the sap which courses through the trees as we know the blood that courses through our veins. We are part of the earth and it is part of us. The perfumed flowers are our sisters. The bear, the deer, the great eagle, these are our brothers. The rocky crests, the dew in the meadow, the body heat of the pony, and man all belong to the same family. The shining water that moves in the streams and rivers is not just water, but the blood of our ancestors. If we sell you our land, you must remember that it is sacred. Each glossy reflection in the clear waters of the lakes tells of events and memories in the life of my people. The water's murmur is the voice of my father's father. The rivers are our brothers. They quench our thirst. They carry our canoes and feed our children. So you must give the rivers the kindness that you would give any brother. If we sell you our land, remember that the air is precious to us, that the air shares its spirit with all the life that it supports. The wind that gave our grandfather his first breath also received his last sigh. The wind also gives our children the spirit of life. So if we sell our land, you must keep it apart and sacred, as a place where man can go to taste the wind that is sweetened by the meadow flowers. Will you teach your children what we have taught our children? That the earth is our mother? What befalls the earth befalls all the sons of the earth. This we know: the earth does not belong to man, man belongs to the earth. All things are connected like the blood that unites us all. Man did not weave the web of life, he is merely a strand in it. Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself. One thing we know: our God is also your God. The earth is precious to him and to harm the earth is to heap contempt on its creator. Your destiny is a mystery to us. What will happen when the buffalo are all slaughtered? The wild horses tamed? What will happen when the secret corners of the forest are heavy with the scent of many men and the view of the ripe hills is blotted with talking wires? Where will the thicket be? Gone! Where will the eagle be? Gone! And what is to say goodbye to the swift pony and then hunt? The end of living and the beginning of survival. When the last red man has vanished with this wilderness, and his memory is only the shadow of a cloud moving across the prairie, will these shores and forests still be here? Will there be any of the spirit of my people left? We love this earth as a newborn loves its mother's heartbeat. So, if we sell you our land, love it as we have loved it. Care for it, as we have cared for it. Hold in your mind the memory of the land as it is when you receive it. Preserve the land for all children, and love it, as God loves us. As we are part of the land, you too are part of the land. This earth is precious to us. It is also precious to you. One thing we know - there is only one God. No man, be he Red man or White man, can be apart. We are all brothers after all. - 1854. You can listen to the speech here.
Monday Oil PaintingMonday morning portrait and figure painting classes will start again on February 23. Details here. |
In this issueWebsiteWorkshopsFor details on workshops and classes in Cape Town and Europe, click here ArchivePrevious newsletters. If you have friends who think our way, you can forward up to five copies. If you would like to subscribe to this newsletter, simply reply to this email, and I shall add you to my list. |
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