Meditation is old and honorable, so why should I not sit, every morning of my life, on the hillside, looking into the shining world? Because, properly attended to, delight, as well as havoc, is suggestion. Can one be passionate about the just, the ideal, the sublime, and the holy, and yet commit to no labor in its cause? I don’t think so.
All summations have a beginning, all effect has a story, all kindness begins with the sown seed. Thought buds toward radiance. The gospel of light is the crossroads of — indolence, or action.
Be ignited, or be gone.
—Mary Oliver, What I Have Learned So Far (1999)
Be ignited, or be gone,,,
For me, this means that our dreams and desires require action. Our wishes and words have the power to manifest themself but only if we follow through and make it so.
The fire might be ignited in our mind, but it must be tended and stoked for it to come to full flame. Otherwise, it flickers and dies eventually.
Tend your fire. Let it burn bright.
The idea of letting your flame burn bright for all to see is easy to say but is a difficult task for most folks. There’s a risk involved that is daunting to most. First and foremost is failure. The fear that your dream’s flame could be forever extinguished keeps most folks from ever lighting it. It seems easier and safer to just keep the possibility of it alive in your mind.
But that is like taking the potential blaze held in a pack of matches and throwing them in a drawer where they will soon be forgotten.
They are your matches, your fire. They want to burn. Let them burn bright.
I thought this Mary Oliver poem was a good match for the new painting above, Burning Bright. Though it is slightly bigger than a Little Gemat 10″ by 10″ on wood panel, it made its way to the West End Gallery ahead of their annual Little Gems exhibit opening next Friday, February 6.
This feels somewhat incomplete and I am sure I could edit this better or add more context but, hey, you get what you pay for here. It might not be much, but it keeps my flame alive.
Let’s have a song to fill out the triad. Here’s the great Leonard Cohen with a live performance from 2008 of his Who By Fire. I feel warmer already on this cold morning.
In my solitude I sing to myself a sweet lullaby, as sweet as my mother used to sing to me.
–Albert Cohen, The Book of My Mother (1954)
Today’s post is kind of like a poker hand. I have a pair of Cohens and a wild card in the form of a new painting. The first of the two Cohens is Albert Cohen who is noted as “a Greek-born Romaniote Jewish Swiss novelist who wrote in French.” Born in 1895, he is considered a French writer though he lived most of his life in Switzerland, dying in 1981.
The other Cohen here is the late great Leonard Cohen. I am sharing a song from late in his long career, Lullaby, from 2012. His deep voice and the song’s easy pace and rhythm have a most soothing feeling for me.
The painting is Dusk of Time from my current solo show hanging at the West End Gallery. I find a soothing feeling in this piece that matches up well with the Cohen song.
Hey, I just fell asleep while looking and listening. I guess they do work well as a lullaby.
There you are. Three of a kind. That’s usually a winning hand. If I had only come up with a fourth Cohen–that would have been unbeatable! I was going to try to slip in something from the theatrical giant George M. Cohan and maybe slur over the fact it is Cohan with an A rather than Cohen with an E but decided against it. That might be viewed as being a bit underhanded.
Oh, what the hell. Here’s something from George M. Cohen. Oops. That should be Cohan:
Whatever you do, kid—always serve it with a little dressing.
I will use that slightly deceitful fourth Cohen as the transition into the Gallery Talk that will be taking place on Saturday at the West End Gallery. It begins at 11 AM and lasts about an hour, ending with the drawing for the painting, Dare to Know, shown at the bottom of this page. And that’s not all. Taking the advice from that fourth Cohen, er, Cohan, it will be served with a little dressing.
Hope you can make it to the West End Gallery on Saturday for the Gallery Talk. I have plenty of dressing all ready to go…
For the first time in years, he felt the deep sadness of exile, knowing that he was alone here, an outsider, and too alert to the ironies, the niceties, the manners, and indeed, the morals to be able to participate.
― Colm Tóibín, The Master
The painting above, The Exile’s Wilderness, was originally painted in early 2020 but without the actual figure that represents The Exile, as seen in the bottom right of the image above. I thought that the painting as it was, sans The Exile figure, was really strong and it quickly became one of my favorite pieces from that period in the early days of the pandemic.
I originally felt that the painting didn’t need the figure, that it represented a view seen from the eyes of the exile. But over the past year or so [2021], as much as I liked this painting without the figure, I began to recognize that it actually needed The Exile in order to provide context.
In my mind, I was the context. I had to remind myself that not every person who looks at this will see themselves as The Exile.
So, The Exile entered the picture, literally. And, though I was apprehensive as I proceeded, I was pleased by its effect. It’s contrast to the emptiness of the streets and windows made the figure seem even more alone. More apart. It heightened the overall effect for me.
It completed the circle of feeling that I was seeking in it.
Now, it doesn’t need that caveat of being a favorite from a certain time period. It is simply a favorite. Period.
Here’s a 2001 song from Leonard Cohen, By the Rivers Dark. Though The Exile’s Wilderness doesn’t display a river, this song definitely has the mood that I glean from this painting. Maybe the buildings here are of a riverside street along that dark river?
Maybe…
Still feeling quite drained and under the weather. Trying to keep working but it is slow going. This a slightly reworked post from several years back about a favorite painting that is here in the studio. I thought I should point out that anytime I share a painting from the studio that doesn’t list a gallery location, you can contact me if you are interested in that piece, and I will let you know who to contact about obtaining it. I only mention this because I sometimes sound like I am hoarding certain pieces when, in fact, feel that most of my favorites here in the studio deserve a life that will continue someplace other than here where only I can experience them.
I am short on time this morning but wanted to share a passage from the Buddha that I have shared here before. Its message, that we ultimately become what we think and say, has been echoed by philosophers through the ages which speaks to its truth.
I have been thinking about this message of caution recently, seeing the transformation of so many people by their casual acceptance and adaption of the ugliness in both word and deed that comes down from the leaders of our current government. This ugliness of thought and word has transformed into deed and habit and has finally transformed into a character defined by this ugliness.
Though it may not reflect the character of most of us, it is this ugly character that defines us to the rest of the world. My worry is that the rest of us may fall prey to that character, that we allow our words and deeds to alter who we are in ways that are irredeemable.
No answers here on that front, of course, outside of saying that one should be wary of falling into that trap, that downward spiral that leads to a darkened alteration of one’s character.
Think the Light. Speak the Light. Become the Light.
Easier said than done. But it can be done.
Anyway, that’s it this morning outside of a song from powerful final album, You Want It Darker, from the late great Leonard Cohen which very much sends the same message. This is Steer Your Way.
What is the meaning of life? That was all- a simple question; one that tended to close in on one with years, the great revelation had never come. The great revelation perhaps never did come. Instead, there were little daily miracles, illuminations, matches struck unexpectedly in the dark; here was one.
–Virginia Woolf, To the Lighthouse
little daily miracles, illuminations, matches struck unexpectedly in the dark…
We often look for one singular moment that reveals an ultimate truth, something that answers all our questions. Something that gives structure and meaning to the great riddle that is life. In waiting for that one burst of revelation, we often overlook the tiny clues given to us on a daily basis.
We want it to come all at once, easy and simple. But it comes in dribs and drabs, leaving it up to us to somehow put all these clues, those little daily miracles, illuminations, matches struck unexpectedly in the dark together for ourselves.
How do we do that?
I don’t know. I am still groping around in the dark. But every so often a match flares up and for a brief and glorious moment there is bright light shining on everything. Of course, it doesn’t last long and I am plunged back into darkness with nothing but the quick flashes of what had been illuminated– partial glimpses of odd angles and shadows–running through my mind. It all makes sense for a brief instant in which I am filled with a sense of understanding.
Not happiness, not even contentment. Just understanding.
And within an even briefer instant, it is gone and I am once more groping in the dark. But at least I know there will most likely soon be more little daily miracles, illuminations, matches struck unexpectedly in the dark.
And for the time being, that is all I can hope for. It might be all I ever get so it will have to be enough.
Here’s a song, Everybody Knows from Leonard Cohen, that probably has little connection it whatever it is I wrote about. It’s just that I woke up with this song in my head and it stayed with me while I was walking to the studio in the darkness way too early this morning. Maybe it is one of those little daily miracles, illuminations, matches struck unexpectedly in the dark?
It’s New Year’s Day. We’ll attempt to shake off the stink and wreckage of the Year 2020, as difficult as that may be, and move into the new year. We see 2021 coming at us all clean and shiny with that new year smell. An optimistic outlook and a year filled with endless possibilities.
Well, that’s the popular belief, what we hold onto in order to get through the day.
Yes, there are brighter days ahead but there are some darker ones as well, especially in the next few months. But we must maintain faith in who we are as a people, believing in truth, equality, and justice. We must have the willpower to reject the ignorance, selfishness, misinformation, and nativist hatred so much on display in recent times.
Yes, we are off-balance and wounded as we come into this new year. But we have the balance and strength to withstand troubles and if we maneuver the coming days with grace and wisdom, perhaps our optimism will become more tangible and less wishful thinking.
The song, New Year’s Prayer, is from the late Jeff Buckley, who in his short life left us a remarkable version of the Leonard Cohen song, Hallelujah, and much more. This song has a mantra-like feel to it with the phrase … feel no shame for what you are… as a refrain. It doesn’t look forward or back with any hope or regret– it is just in the moment. And that’s how I feel about the turning of this year. What will be, will be.
Wishing you all a good New Year with the hope that feel no shame for what you are.
“A Time For Leaving”- At the Principle Gallery, Alexandria, VA
My famous last words Could never tell the story Spinning unheard In the dark of the sky
–If This Is Goodbye, Mark Knopfler
I don’t feel like saying much today so let’s move right on to the music selection for this Sunday morning. I wanted something to fit with the painting above. A Time For Leaving, which is headed down to the Principle Gallery for their upcoming small works show. I went through a lot of music but nothing jumped out at me.
There were two finalists in my mind. One was from the wonderful collaboration between Mark Knopfler and Emmylou Harris, If This Is Goodbye. The other was a track, Leaving the Table, from Leonard Cohen‘s great final album, You Want It Darker. Both did the job for me so I decided to share both.
If you’d like, give a listen. If not, move on. Either way, try to have a peaceful day.
“Human beings, whatever their backgrounds, are more open than we think, that their behavior cannot be confidently predicted from their past, that we are all creatures vulnerable to new thoughts, new attitudes.
And while such vulnerability creates all sorts of possibilities, both good and bad, its very existence is exciting. It means that no human being should be written off, no change in thinking deemed impossible.”
― Howard Zinn, You Can’t Be Neutral on a Moving Train: A Personal History of Our Times
“It is a happy faculty of the mind to slough that which conscience refuses to assimilate.”
― William Faulkner, Light in August
Yesterday was an interesting day. A good day.
A good and decent man and a strong and smart woman of mixed race and immigrant parents were declared the victors in our presidential election. Throughout the country and around the world spontaneous celebrations took place with throngs of people ( almost all masked, by the way) taking to the streets. A total release of emotion. Dancing. Singing. Banging drums and honking car horns.
A cacophony of joy.
In Paris and other cities around the world the church bells tolled.
I would like to think that witnessing this explosion of celebration might cause those who have steadily supported the divisive rhetoric and vindictiveness of the current president*** watched this and wondered how his loss could have possibly triggered such elation and joy. I would like to think that it made them feel cracks taking place in the shield of the cognitive dissonance they have maintained for the past four years, being fed as they have been a steady diet of pure falsehoods and subsisting on beliefs and .conspiracies that do not align with any sort of reality.
Living in their self-contained bubbles doesn’t allow them to even consider the possibility that their reality is not everybody’s reality.
I have to admit this applies to both sides to some extent. But the blind allegiance to the lies, vitriol and cruelty of this president*** is beyond anything seen on the other side. It is complete acceptance of every lie as truth even when their own eyes tell them it is not so. Their support for him even when confronted with facts is an amazing bit of pretzel logic that rationalizes his every action. In the four years since his election I have yet to hear anyone speak of their support for him in anything but broad generalizations and mischaracterizations of events.
They want to believe so hard that their kind rejects the reality that is before them.
I think yesterday went a long way toward bursting that bubble for some of those folks. Not all, of course. There were counter-demonstrations, though much smaller and less ebullient. And largely unmasked. Even when it comes to their health and a raging deadly pandemic, many still refuse to accept the reality that is so apparent to all others.
But for many, it had to be illuminating to see how country and the world reacted. It wasn’t a reaction to a political victory. People celebrated when Obama was elected but even that was dwarfed by yesterday’s outpouring.
This was a reaction similar to the winning of a world war or the toppling of a tyrant. It looked like something from a movie where the citizens of Earth have turned away an alien invasion.
To witness that from the other side had to be a mix of bitterness and bewilderment, probably wondering how so many people could be so wrong. And probably even more so, if they watched President-elect Biden’s speech last night, heard him speak in positive terms about unity and moving ahead together. Where was the anger? There was no promise of American carnage, no threat of retribution or revenge. Not raging with grievances. No us and them.
It was an extended hand and a promise to speak to and for all Americans. It was sane and calm and delivered in terms of unity and future built on hope, not fear.
It most likely didn’t resemble in any way the strawman that they come to fear and hate. The future he spoke of includes them, doesn’t push them to the side or minimize their concerns.
Like I said, yesterday was probably a day of illumination for some. The future doesn’t have to be dark, doesn’t have to be built on demonizing or blaming others. It can be okay, maybe even better than okay.
All they have to do is allow the possibility that there is sometimes another way of thinking about things.
Hopefully, yesterday cracked some bubbles and some new light was shed on their minds. Like Howard Zinn, whose words are at the top of the page, I believe in the potential for people to change their way of thinking.
Okay, enough. I am writing this off the top of my head so I apologize if this is not as concise or focused as I would like.
For this Sunday morning music let’s go with a song, Anthem, from Leonard Cohen whose message is most fitting today for this post:
Ring the bells (ring the bells) that still can ring Forget your perfect offering There is a crack in everything (there is a crack in everything) That’s how the light gets in
Have a good day. There will be tough days ahead, but let’s hope there are many more good ones to come.
Sounded like the truth Seemed the better way Sounded like the truth But it’s not the truth today
–Leonard Cohen, It Seemed the Better Way
Come on in. It’s safe here today. No commentary, even though the lyrics of the song I am featuring have something to say on their own. But even that is subject to your own interpretation.
I will spare you mine.
The song I am featuring today really struck a chord with me this morning. It is from the 2016Leonard Cohen album, You Want It Darker, which was the last before his death in November of that same year.
A lot of things died that November.
I am sorry. That was commentary.
This song is called It Seemed the Better Way and it features the cantor and male chorus from the Montreal synagogue that Cohen attended as a child. At the time of the song’s release, he described the lyrics of this song as “The feeling of a prayer that’s been there forever, but the spiritual comforts of the past no longer available.“
It raises a lot of philosophic questions. But I’ll let you work on those without my input today.
I thought I would accompany this song with a painting at the top that borrows the title and tone of another Leonard Cohen song. It’s Night Comes On and is currently at the West End Gallery. This is one of those personal pieces, those paintings that keep me coming back to look again and again. There seems to be something in these sort of paintings for me that is beyond its shape and form and color and line. It holds something just beyond my comprehension but I somehow understand that it is there even though I don’t yet understand it.
And I may never understand it. Maybe that’s the point.
If you know what it is, let me know. And if not, I certainly understand that, as well.
I enjoyed the time spent not writing the blog this week. It allowed me to readjust things a bit, put some things back into my personal rotation that I had let slip in recent times. It was time to examine things and think a bit without feeling the need to send it out into the world. Read a bit. Listen to some music that I had slipped by me.
There will be time in days ahead to talk about such things. Today, I am back briefly just to introduce this week’s Sunday morning music. It’s a song from the last album from Leonard Cohen just before his death in 2016 at the age of 82.
It’s titled You Want It Darker.
With its ominous bass line and its focus on our mortality mixed with Old Testament imagery and a , it seems fitting for these times.
One of the words used in the chorus of the song is Hineni, the Hebrew word meaning Here I am. It was the response from Moses to God speaking to him through the burning bush. It was the answer from Abraham to the voice of God who then instructed him to slay his son. And it was the response from Isaiah when he hears the voice of God ask, “Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?” It is generally an indication of faith and total commitment without question while awaiting one’s appointed task.
Here, Cohen seems to be questioning God. He’s not asking the listener if they want it darker. Seeing the way the world has descended into darkness, he is grilling God, almost questioning whether this deepening darkness is somehow the desire of God. There’s an edge of anger when he asks and replies: You want it darker/ We kill the flame.
It’s a powerful song, one that haunted me this past week. It reminds me that we are in for some trying times in the months ahead and that we need to be fully prepared to endure whatever is thrown our way.
Ready to say, with total commitment, Hineni— Here I am.
Redtree Times 