Oct 9, 2007

Lost


The universe may be trying to lure me back to my art. At least Whiskey River's posts the last few days certainly are trying to do so:

"What do drawings mean to me? I really don't know. The activity absorbs me. I forget everything else in a way that I don't think happens with any other activity."
- John Berger

There is a moment, and all the longing of your soul craves it ever-after: a losing of oneself. For the over-active, self-reflective mind, Art is a Balm for the Soul.

I discovered a hint of it in drawing, but that was more a mathematic puzzle at first; a solving of proportion, angle, line. The discipline later brought more freedom, but it's still hard for me to "forget" when I'm drawing a visible subject.

Then one day, I returned to the dust from whence I came, and lost my mind in clay. Literally. I put a lump of clay in front of me and began. When I looked up again a few minutes later, four hours had passed.

I stood trembling, cold fear creeping up my spine for the briefest moment. Where had I been?

Epilepsy runs in my family and for a nanosecond I cast about looking for an anchor of a clue as to what had happened. Out-of-body experience? No, wait. It was obvious in front of me that I had been very busy creating. Yes, I remembered some of it--spraying the clay to keep it wet, keep it moving. Singing and humming, sipping a diet coke.

I hadn't been away from anywhere but me.

Escape, pure and simple. More clay, good music, time alone. Repeat. I wish I had a more addictive personality because it's been two years since I've sculpted clay, played my guitar, sang, or painted.

I fear the same will happen to this blog experiment in writing. I love writing, but haven't found my "voice" yet. I'm hoping the discipline of writing even a little something every day will get me where I want to go. Oh wait. I don't even have a map.

Maybe I just need to lose myself again.

6 comments:

Jimbo - PRS said...

Excellent, the clay and the writing.

Hammer said...

Very nice!

Nonny said...

Ahh isn’t it swell to find something to indulge in and give yourself a break. I suppose if you did it constantly, it would soon lose it’s appeal.

Jean said...

we make our own map, then look back and call it our life...

Joan of Argghh! said...

Thanks, all!

Welcome, Hammer!

Jean, just a lovely thought.

Now, back to doing laundry...

Anonymous said...

Very fine! Unfortunately, reality intrudes on the things we really want to spend time on.