The Artist's Way - Week 11 (by Julia Cameron)

"I am an artist. As an artist, I may need a different mix of stability and flow from other people. I may find that a nine-to-five job steadies me and leaves me freer to create. Or I may find that a nine-to-five drains me of energy and leaves me unable to create. I must experiment with what works for me

An artist's cash flow is typically erratic. No law says we must be broke all the time, but the odds are good we may be broke some of the time. Good work will sometimes not sell. People will buy but not pay promptly. The market may be rotten even when the work is great. I cannot control these factors. Being true to the inner artist often results in work that sells - but not always. I have to free myself from determining my value and the value of my work by my work's market value.

The idea that money validates my credibility is very hard to shake. If money determines real art, then Gauguin was a charlatan. As an artist, I may never have a home that looks like Town And Country - or I may. On the other hand, I may have a book of poems, a song, a piece of performance art, a film.

I must learn that as an artist my credibility lies with me, God, and my work. In other words, if I have a poem to write, I need to write that poem - whether it will sell or not.

I need to create what wants to be created. I cannot plan a career to unfold in a sensible direction dictated by cash flow and marketing strategies. Those things are fine, but too much attention to them can stifle the child within, who gets scared and angered when continually put off. Children, as we all know, do not deal well with "Later. Not now."

Since my artist is a child, the natural child within, I must make some concessions to is sense of timing. SOME concessions does not mean total irresponsibility. What it means is letting the artist have quality time, knowing that if I let it do what it wants to it will cooperate with me in doing what I need to do.

Sometimes I will write badly, draw badly, paint badly, perform badly. I have a right to do that to get to the other side. Creativity is its own reward.

As an artist, I must be very careful to surround myself with people who nurture my artist - not people who try to overly domesticate it for my own good. Certain friendships will kick off my artistic imagination and others will deaden it.

I may be a good cook, a rotten housekeeper, and strong artist. I am messy, disorganized except as pertains to writing, a demon for creative detail, and not real interested in details like polished shoes and floors.

To a large degree my life is my art, and when it gets dull, so does my work. As an artist, I may poke into what other people think of as dead ends: a punk band that I mysteriously fall for, a piece of gospel music that hooks my inner ear, a piece of red silk I just like and add to a nice outfit, thereby "ruining it."

As an artist, I may frizz my hair or wear weird clothes. I may spend too much money on perfume in a pretty blue bottle even though the perfume stinks because the bottle lets me write about Paris in the 1930's.

As an artist, I write whether I think it's any good or not. I shoot movies other people may hate. I sketch bad sketches to say "I was in this room. I was happy. It was May and I was meeting somebody I wanted to meet."

As an artist, my self-respect comes from doing the work. One performance at a time, one gig at a time, one song at a time. Six years to write one decent song that I am willing to play for other people. Throughout it all, daily, I show up at the morning pages and I write about my ugly curtains, my rotten haircut, my delight in the way the light hit the trees on the morning run.

As an artist, I do not need to be rich, but I do need to be richly supported. I cannot allow my emotional and intellectual life to stagnate or the work will show it. My life will show it. My temperament will show it. If I don't create, I get crabby.

As an artist, I can literally die from boredom. I kill myself when I fail to nurture my artist child because I am acting like somebody else's idea of an adult. The more I nurture my artist child, the more adult I am able to appear. Spoiling my artist means it will let me type a business letter. Ignoring my artist means a grinding depression.

There is a connection between self-nurturing and self-respect. If I allow myself to be bullied and cowed by other people's urges for me to be more normal or more nice, I sell myself out. They may like me better, feel more comfortable with my more conventional appearance or behavior, but I will hate myself. Hating myself, I may lash out at myself and others.

If I sabotage my artist, I can well expect an eating binge, a sex binge, a temper binge. When we are not creating, artists are not always very normal or very nice - to ourselves or to others.

Creativity is oxygen for our souls. Cutting off our creativity makes us savage. We react like we are being choked. There is a real rage that surfaces when we are interfered with on a level that involves picking lint off of us and fixing us up. When well-meaning parents and friends push marriage or 9-5 jobs or anything on us that doesnt evolve in a way that allows for our art to continue, we will react as though we are fighting for our lives - we are.

To be an artist is to recognize the particular. To appreciate the peculiar. To allow a sense of play in your relationship to accepted standards. To ask the question "Why?" To be an artist is to risk admitting that much of what is money, property and prestige strikes you as just a little silly.

To be an artist is to acknowledge the astonishing. It is to allow the wrong piece in a room if we like it. It is to hang onto a weird coat that makes us happy. It is to not keep trying to be something that we aren't.

If you are happier writing than not writing, singing than not singing, photographing than not photographing, for God's sake (and I mean that literally) let yourself do it.

To kill your dreams because they are irresponsible is to be irresponsible for yourself. Credibility lies with you and God - not with a vote of your friends, parents and acquaintances.

Creativity is a spiritual practice. It is not something that can be perfected, finished and set aside.

The creator made us creative. Our creativity is our gift FROM God. Our use of it is our gift TO God. Accepting this bargain is the beginning of true self-acceptance."

"Leggo My Ego"

I have this friend (who will remain unnamed) who adores Oprah. She even once uttered the words "if Oprah told me to jump off a bridge, I'd do it." I love my friend dearly, and while I dont claim to have the same allegiance to Oprah, I AM admittedly on the bandwagon of her recent endorsement of Eckhart Tolle's new book "A New Earth."

It's a dense and heady read, and it's one of those books that has been taking me much longer than most books to get through (since I tend to read at night when I'm winding down to attempt to go to sleep), as I find myself having to read it like a text book in order to actually process the information and ideas being employed. While dense and heady, it is also quite simple in its lessons...but in that way that most valid spiritual philosophies are "simple." The idea that our attachment to pleasure and our aversion to pain is what causes all suffering is a "simple" concept to intellectualize, but somehow immensely and painstakingly impossible to put into our bank of permanent experiential wisdom.

But, in that warm, fuzzy Oprah-like fashion, I can't help but find humbling and obvious relevance to what Tolle is saying in each new section that I read (and re-read with a highliter).

Tonight's section honed in on "Reactivity and Grievances." At the core of Tolle's philosophies (at least from what I've read so far) is this concept of the "Ego." I know this word gets tossed around in social and psychological contexts left and right, but (if I may so boldly attempt to reiterate) Tolle explains the "Ego" as being the illusion of self that we perceive as separating us from everyone (and everything) else. That is to say, there is no distinction. There are no distinctions. This human tendency to create an illusion of dinstinction and separateness is what Tolle sees as being the root dysfunction of humanity.

I couldn't help but feel a bit ashamed as I read through the few pages that break down with such poignant brevity the unnecessary harm that grievances can cause in our lives. While I consider myself to be one who, at the very least, strives to live progressively and consiously, I couldn't help but shake my head at how much power I have allowed personal, petty grievances disrupt my life and peace of mind.

I'll quote Tolle: "A grievance is a strong negative emotion connected to an event in the sometimes distant past that is being kept alive by compulsive thinking, by retelling the story in the head or out loud of 'what someone did to me.'"

Jesus...how many nights have I sat up much later than I should have only to mentally rant about how pissed off I was at so-and-so for doing that utterly dispicable thing "to me??" it's amazing how much power we can give away...not even TO others (because that would just be another illusion of the ego, right?) ...but just to the power of negativity. Tolle points out that in holding grudges, you are essentially saying "I am right, and THEY are wrong." Not only is this a compelte and utter indulgence of the ego, but it is useless as well.

"The truth, in any case, needs no defense" Tolle says. (Duh, right?) If one is trying to defend what they perceive as being the "truth" of a situation, it is a wasted effort, since the truth will be true regardless of whether or not someone is there to defend it. Defending a perceived truth is merely indulging in an emotional reaction to a situation, and a further abuse of the ego. And let's face it...when do we ever really defend the "Truth" so much as our opinion of what we think is right or wrong. It is only in gaining the awareness to make the distinction between an event and our emotions surrounding that event that allow us to free ourselves from these harbored grievances and negative reactions.

"Stick to the facts," Tolle says.

Again, easier said than done, but I can't ignore the blatancy of the truth in what Tolle is saying.

He goes on to address the more mundane human reality of this practice as well. "Don't try to let go of the grievances," he says. "Trying to let go, to forgive, does not work. Forgiveness happens naturally when you see that it has no purpose other than to strengthen a false sense of self, to keep the ego in place."

Alright, Eckhart. I'm workin' on it. I guess I could surrender my plans to egg the car of that one guy who screwed me over back in high school (or the one who screwed me over a month ago) in the name of personal growth.

Just kidding about the egging, of course...

...kind of.

"Civilization is a slow process of adopting the ideas of minorities." - Herbert Prochnow

Granted, I'm fully aware that the quote titled above was refering to "minorities" in a slightly different context, but I found the quote to be suitably relevent to the recent news that our country is finally starting to venture down an exciting and progressive path by nominating Barack Obama as our Democratic presidential candidate.

Let me just take a moment to sidestep from the formalities and say "HELL FUCKING YA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

I am not, by any means, what most would define as a "politcal" person. I think that power (as defined by those typically involved in politics) is a figment of the human ego, and the means by which so many people seek to obtain it, a cringe-worthy offense to true human potential. I, personally, tend to rebel against structure, and even moreso against anyone trying to impose it upon me.
...That said...after the planes hit the twin towers in 2001, I started paying attention, and when we declared war in Iraq in 2003, I started getting angry. And when America (supposedly) re-elected George W. Bush in 2004, I cried, and vowed to make some changes in my own life to ensure that I, at the very least, would never contribute to such an ignorant and revolting decision. I know I'm not alone in this. Speaking for my age group in general, since I have been legally able to vote in any kind of election, George W. Bush has been president. Since I, personally, have been "awake" to the political world, to the state of our country and government, and to the perspectives that other nations hold of America, I have become conditioned to assume that any words uttered by our nation's leader were lies. I have becomed conditioned to believe that any decision he makes is most likely out of nothing other than self-interest and deceit, and that any decision worthy enough of making for the betterment of the whole (country, world, planet...) would probably get tossed aside with disregard.

The notion that the leader of the free world, the most "powerful" man on earth, could be someone to look up to, someone to honor, someone to trust and believe in...and not just someone whose face is printed on rolls of toilet paper along with a list of idiotic things that have come out of his mouth...has been completely foreign to me...

...until now.

I first saw Barack Obama speak at a Democratic fundraiser in LA back in 2004 (when people were still hopefully energized by the chance that John Kerry would win the election over Bush). He spoke last, followed by other well-known senators like Clinton and Edwards. All of the preceding speakers took their stance at the podium, and put on a good enough show, speaking in that one tone that politicians speak in that could be classified as "Shakespeare for the modern day political stage." I couldn't tell you a damn thing about any of their speeches other than the fact that they spoke with all the appropriate intonations that registered in my brain as typical political "bla bla bla BLA bla bla..." I mean...I clapped and everything.

But then Obama came out. I had heard his name before, but honestly wasn't totally sure who he was at that point. I remember so clearly watching him walk on stage. He was carrying one of Chad Smith's drum sticks (the Chili Peppers had just performed) and laughing at something that Flea said to him as he was walking up to the stage. He had that classic Obama smile that makes you just giggle like a little girl (or a 25 year old one), and he walked up to the podium, took the microphone off the platform and held it in his hand as he walked up to the front of the stage and looked out at the crowd. He was fully present. Everybody...EVERYBODY...was quiet, and looking directly at him. He had that effortless charisma that is so genuine and natural and innate to him, and he just...talked. He talked TO us, rather than AT us. And while, 4 years later, my memory doesn't hold the exact words he used, I remember being fully engaged while he spoke. People in the crowd nodded and furled their eyebrows as if they were thinking "dude....TOTALLY!" I felt like I was sitting in a coffeeshop with him and we were drinking nonfat lattes and splitting a banana bread slice and he was telling me about his thoughts on how the world could be a better place while I sat there and listened intently (while eating slightly more than my half of the banana bread because he was talking instead of eating...I do that sometimes).

I remember calling home and talking to my stepdad (who is passionately FOR anything AGAINST Bush) about Obama. He was well aware of him, and he talked to me about how what our country really needs is for someone like Obama to be our president. We laughed dreamingly about the notion of that, and how far-fetched it seemed at that point.

Tonight, four years later, I called my stepdad, yelling at the top of my lungs with excitement over the recent news of Obama's candiacy for president...and he spoke with just as much passion about his belief that this 46 year old man...this 46 year old black man...who worked his way to where he is through hard, honest, selfless and purely-intentioned WORK (something George W. Bush knows nothing about)...has such immense potential to truly turn this nation around. "What a juxtaposition," my stepdad said...to have the past 8 years of disheartening lies, deceit, war, selfishness and alienation on the part of George W. Bush, followed by the possibility of Barack Obama being not only the first African American president, but more importantly, an overwhelmingly qualified candidate to make some desperately needed changes in perspective and action. Perspective of America in the eyes of the world, and perspective of the government in the eyes of the American people. Action to clear away the cobwebs of the old, obsolete methods of leadership in this country that have held us back from taking steps forward in the areas of civil rights, international relations, health care, education, and the environmental crisis.

And here I am, 7 years since my eligibility as a participating American citizen, and I am finally understanding what it means to have a (potential) leader in whom I have full trust, who I believe is not only fully capable of making this country - and the lives of the people in it - better, but who will actually follow through on his word to do so. I understand what it might be like to have a president whose words fill my mind with possibility and my heart with hope and the motivation to get involved in what can potentially be a massive movement toward a nation that represents progress, forward-thinking, and modern, relevant virtues. I can catch a glimpse of what it's like to be an American and be proud...proud of our leader who inspires us to think and to act from a place of positive growth.

Man...here's hoping.

Barack Obama for President, biotch!

Hope, Perhaps?

http://automobiles.honda.com/fcx-clarity/?from=fcx.honda.com

Finally, the auto industry is thinking outside the proverbial box and taking a step away from fuel dependence.

ZERO emissions?? A car that releases water vapor rather than exhaust??
Sounds too good to be true....but here's hoping! Go Honda!

(Gobama, too!)

India Gave Me More Than Just Lice and Indigestion

Damn, it is SO easy when living in a place like Los Angeles (not that there are any other such places on Earth) to get sucked into the day-to-day superficiality of this strange, strange, incestuous bubble world we are trudging through. Don't get me wrong...it's plenty fun and plenty stimulating, but I feel extremely fortunate to have people in my life who always manage to snap me back into the REAL "reality" right when I need it the most.

For reasons I have yet to understand, the majority of the truly solid and substantial people who have come into my life the past 2 years have come - whether directly or indirectly - from my time in India.

One such person is a girl named Maggie with whom I worked as a volunteer at a children's home in Rishikesh called Ramana's Garden. She was 19 at the time, and one of 3 of us volunteers who actually lived on the compound with the kids 24/7. I struggled a lot with my feelings of inability to give enough of myself to the kids, but I have never in my entire life seen anybody so perfectly fit in their true calling. Maggie literally ran the place. The woman who owns it was never around, and the teachers and other volunteers (including myself) were just able to commit to constant, round-the-clock service. But Maggie was there...all the time. She did everything. It was mind-boggling and truly humbling because it was so effortless to her and you could tell that she couldn't possibly imagine doing anything else.

Well, it's been a year and a half since I left Ramana's, and Maggie, and since then she has opened up her own Children's Home in Nepal.

www.blinknow.org

She is truly amazing. Check out the website, and keep it in mind for donations or for anyone you know who may be interested in volunteering.

The Ballad of Sexual Dependency

The Human Footprint

New National Geographic show airing just in time for Earth Day

Check it:

http://channel.nationalgeographic.com/channel/human-footprint/