I’ve been on a long hiatus from studio work and blogging – so long that it amazes me that any readers call by this little corner of the cyberworld at all. But the stats tell me they do, and I thank you – all of you. I hope you found something worthwhile among these postings; a little inspiration or encouragement, or something to ponder, perhaps.
While I’m still without a workspace, energy is returning for the beloved creative work/play – for color and texture and shape and form. I’m inspired anew by discovering the ways in which the inexpressible displays its wonders in the micro-universe. Whether I’m attuned or not, whether I’m aware and amazed or not, the miracle of Life keeps on making, keeps on creating, inexhaustible and immeasurably. And artists never lie down exhausted for long. Their passion – if it’s honored and fostered, given time and space – will always be a source of their healing. They don’t create because it’s fun or recreational (although it often will be); they create because they must, because if they stay away too long from ‘the dance’ they fall ill.
I gaze in utter wonderment at the dance of creation displayed in this photomicrograph of soap bubbles. And I feel the sap rising. How will it express? How will it release and focus energy within the field of capacity and skills that make up the playground called ‘me’?
Yes, we live in a quantum world where there is only, in TS Eliot’s phrase, ‘the dance’, and the dance is always changing, both in the sub-atomic world of particles, and in the visible world of objects. We construct our world so that we can apprehend it, we make our ideas visible so that we and others can enjoy them and debate them, and usually destroy them at some time or other, but we go on making, we go on turning energy into objects. The object itself is provisional, the energy, though changing, is permanent, and is a feature of the whole universe. What art does is to release and focus energy in a particular way, and I would argue that what we call art objects are places where energy is especially intense. It doesn’t matter whether it is a picture or a book or a piece of music, or a performance, it is a concentration of energy. This is why the arts occupy relatively timeless space, and why one of the tests of art is that it should go on working on us long after any contemporary interest in its subject matter is extinct. We don’t go to Shakespeare to find out about life in Elizabethan England, we go to Shakespeare to find out about ourselves now. The energy in the plays goes on being released.
For more micro miracles visit the National Geographic website.