Sunday, July 10, 2011

trippin'

sketchbook pages, playing with new brush-pen.


non-attachment poem

a borrowed car
containing everything you need
and a banana,

once again, moving into the Unknown,
learning a new skill:
don't reference the past to define yourself.

you only exist in the present moment.

...

the ultimate test of the new skill

At thirty-seven years of age,
move into a trailer
on your parents' driveway.


rethinking painting

There are leaves, forming a pattern and colours
They are constantly changing because of things like wind and sun
All this is going into my brain
My hand brings it back out, in two dimensions:
This is what I saw, filtered through my Self.

Then I judge what my hand just created
And try to “improve” it –
Make it more pleasing to the eye,
Add a colour there for more interest.
What’s the point of that?
Who cares what my eyes want to see?
Is it more that I think other peoples’ eyes will want to see something more interesting?

Perhaps a painting should not be too overworked.
Watch the image record the image
And you are done.

2 comments:

  1. I'm struck by the line, "You only exist in the present moment" and whether or not I believe that to be true. Can we really do that? SHOULD we?

    Not being argumentative here, just actually considering it.

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  2. I think we do... after all, yesterday already happened, there's no use thinking about it. And it's impossible to know exactly what's going to happen in an hour, let alone a day, or a week.

    I don't think it would be easy to constantly live in the present moment; we gotta plan our lives somewhat, and remember experiences in order to learn, etc. But I find it pretty amazing that, any time I just sit and think "What's happening right now?" it almost always feels like the present is really quite nice. Or at least, not worthy of stressing about.

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