Tales from Tuscany
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Tales from Tuscany

I can only give you a glimpse of our time in Tuscany, and that is how it is for all of us. The greatest things cannot be told. And the photos don’t convey the people, the laughter, or how they take such good care of you. Or the full moon rising on our first evening.

I am on the plane home now, and everything is fresh, and so I want to give you a picture. I was with my dear friends Birgit Nass, Mari Bohley and Massimo Polello. And Massimo’s husband, Domenico Quaranta joined us, with the hope and miracle of keeping us organized.

We worked with a couple poems for the week, which Birgit had designed and ready for screen printing. The first one, Prayer, by Galway Kinnell, became a favorite:

Whatever happens. Whatever
what is is is what
I want. Only that. But that.

Such a short poem that keeps working on you like a Zen koan. Perhaps he titled it “Prayer” because it’s a perfect aim and such a far reach, to pray for what happens. It’s a vision that can change the way we respond to our work, and to whatever crosses our path. This is my grail too, my knight-seeking thing . Whatever what is is is what I want. As William Stafford once said, everything is practice.

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“Cast upon yourselves a spell against stagnation.”
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“Cast upon yourselves a spell against stagnation.”

How is it that some of us go forward with vigor and adventure to the end, and some of us wither? Or, most likely, we have both qualities but wish to increase the former — the vitality that is connected to hope and self-confidence. How do we free ourselves from the mind-weeds and negativity that are obstacles to renewal? How do we cast a spell against stagnation?

The challenges will keep coming. Here in the desert, having time before class begins, I am making a list of things that are antidotes to ossification, the word itself reflecting the rigidity of bones. Here is my list so far:

Sit alone next to a tree, a place where you cannot be found except by the tree.

Turn left instead of right.

Reach out to someone you don’t like.

Stop thinking about your work and do it.

Stop thinking.

Make room for serendipity.

What follows is a week of serendipity and exploration in Taos, with wonderful images from the student work.

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Notes to Myself
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Notes to Myself

Your real duty is to go away from the community to find your bliss. — Joseph Campbell

What part of myself, I wonder, am I trying to find, to save? The need to retreat from media, to regain something I once knew, has the urgency of survival. On the second day of my retreat here at Saint Meinrad Archabbey, stillness begins to win over the part that wants to keep up with people and news. That wants the action of entertainment. It is so easy for me to forget that stillness is a way of knowing, of apprehending presence, of inhabiting the room of belonging. Time spreads out for paper, pens, paint, books and walking. The refreshment of beech trees rattling their leaves in the winter woods. Reading and writing. Sorting my tools.

There is something so restorative about the physicality of a place and the reckoning that comes with being fully embodied and uninterrupted. I remember how the saving mystery breaks through at odd and unforeseeable moments. There are many thoughts on the subject of places having memory, of places remembering what people forget. But the first thing I noticed on my arrival was something I have never seen here before: about 100 black vultures and a few dozen crows circling the sky above where I am staying. The black vultures have only recently entered this area in such great numbers, and are more aggressive than the native turkey vultures. They have an ominous reputation that calls to mind the birds of Mordor. The second thing I noticed was the green sprouts of crocus already up in the woods. The dark and the light, the evil and the good, both ever present.

Sign up for my online class beginning Mar 19: online class
All 3 sessions will be recorded.

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“Voyaging beyond the bathtub…”
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“Voyaging beyond the bathtub…”

In his book, Essays for Artwork, George Wyllie, a Scottish artist, spoke humorously about art-making. He insists that going beyond your comfort zone and the trends of the day — that “voyaging beyond the bathtub” is fuel for creativity. Inspiration requires food, and the necessity for makers to adventure, to shift and “unplan the future”. There is a need to get beyond the walls of the bathtub and the gallery, to get beyond what is familiar and ignite like minds. Collaborate in new ways. Shake off old ideas by wandering into unknown places and finding artists across the sea or the desert or the road. You don’t have to go far, but finding a new perspective is inherently refreshing.

Walking down a cobblestone street in Stroncone, we happened upon a small opening in the wall, and walked into the Studio D’Arte of C. Massoli. Two small rooms filled with his drawings, sculptures, and paintings; and his desk with the lovely old books on the shelf…

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Nulato: “The place we are tied together.”  —Koyukon Indian
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Nulato: “The place we are tied together.” —Koyukon Indian

Stitching the books always reminds me of the place we are tied together. Some part of each person is woven into each book, as a part of each of us was woven together. Being in a beautiful place for a week in a workspace without screens was compelling, it deepened the work, and what you see here is testimony to the budding ability and exuberance of this creative collaboration.

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A Tattered Yearning
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A Tattered Yearning

On this side of the world February is a quiet, introspective time, often accompanied by the yearning for spring. It can be a dark and dreary time, but this is fertile ground for making and creating. Creativity is fed by allowing darkness, boredom, loneliness and uncertainty — allowing these unwelcome things to rise and make something of themselves. I am thinking about how the seeds we plant now, in the earth or in our hearts, are the ones that blossom in spring. The spring needs our seeds.

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“Make Your Own Bible”
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“Make Your Own Bible”

Make your own Bible, is followed by this suggestion:

“Make your own Bible. Select and collect all the words and sentences that in all your readings have been to you like the blast of a trumpet.” — Ralph Waldo Emerson

This idea, along with Gerard Manley Hopkins’s idea of “inscape,” (which I will address later) is what is fueling the theme for my 2023 classes.

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“Let everything happen to you.” — Rilke
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“Let everything happen to you.” — Rilke

I am back from my month long European adventure. Thank you, and welcome, to all of you who signed up for A Silver Fraction while I was away.

In these weeks across the sea I fell into a wonder-filled world of time, history, collaboration and surprise. I am returning with a sense of renewal, and something more — a kind of recognition that can only happen when you become a stranger. Others see you as if you are new, and the world holds up a different mirror. The reflection I was offered was both familiar and strangely new. The remembrance comes with the blossoming of what has been lying in wait within. It occurs to me now as I write, that the feeling of belonging, this recognition, perhaps only comes after the willingness to be lost, not knowing who I am, being a receiver, a stranger.

I am bursting with creative ideas for the time to come. . .

To see more images click below:

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Happy Being Small
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Happy Being Small

This morning I looked out my window at the very small garden, well garden is still an imagined thing — but the new soil has just been added, and the string to determine what is level. I had no idea that this patch of bare dirt and string would be a playground for the baby birds! A fluffy fledgling Carolina wren is turning somersaults in the dust and then hopping up on the string as if it is her very own tightrope. When I sat down I was in a melancholy mood, but after watching this display, it is a very different sort of day.

Later I went to see Frankie York, the owner of New Editions Gallery. I told her stories of talking with other artists about how lucky we are to work with her. The privilege of having someone in charge of our work who cares about both the work and the artist who made it. Someone whose gift is creating the exhibit by transforming the atmosphere in the room until the space itself is also part of the art. Someone who is interested in each person that walks in the door. What Frankie said in response to my admiration was not what I was expecting…. “I think we are all tied together”, she said, “because we are happy being small.” This touched me, that phrase happy being small, and I have been thinking about it ever since.

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“I have worked hard to give up a place ordained by others in the world….” — Mark Nepo
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“I have worked hard to give up a place ordained by others in the world….” — Mark Nepo

“I have worked hard to give up a place ordained by others in the world, for this always leads me into noise, confusion and gruffness.”

— Mark Nepo, The Book of Awakening

My aim in teaching is the same for my students as it is for myself: to give up the place “ordained by others” and step into my own particular place in the world. The world cannot find me if I don’t find myself. I begin class with more than an idea, more than faith: it is the experience that each student who shows up has a gift — a gift that no one else has. The contemplative atmosphere in the classroom cultivates work that is distinct to each student. In our recent class in Taos, New Mexico, all the students worked with the same structure, tools, book form, and alphabet — and yet delicious creations arose that are unlike anything or anyone else. (Images from students below).

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