giving form to the formless

Robert Ryman, Untitled circa1960

 
Let’s talk about some piece of music or work of art that comes out of connectedness with Stillness, or Presence. To some extent, the work of art or the piece of music still carries that energy field. It can put [one] in touch with the deeper dimension within. But there’s a little bit of an opening required. If there’s only the density of the ego, then the transformational possibilities of art or music are not realized.

A little opening is required in the viewer, or the listener, and then it can be quite a wonderful thing to listen to music or to contemplate a work of art. You can be transported, if only for a moment, into that alert stillness out of which it originally came. That’s a beautiful thing.

Another aspect is ‘losing oneself’ — going too deep, almost losing oneself in the ground out of which creativity comes. In the creative process, there’s always a balance that’s needed, so that you don’t lose yourself in Being. It could happen to an artist, it can happen to some people who awaken spiritually — they suddenly plunge so deeply into Being that they lose all interest in doing. […]

As long as you go within, and give form to that which is resting in the formless, be used by it — so that through you it can come into this world of form. Don’t stay down there and lose yourself in it — that’s not necessary. […]

You can see it wherever it is — no matter in what form it is hiding. You can see the truth shining through wherever it is hiding.

Eckhart Tolle


Artwork by Robert Ryman


Cézanne and the art of nondual nonfinito

 

Or – getting emptiness exactly right

 

Paul Cézanne La Montagne Sainte-Victoire vue des Lauves

La Montagne Sainte Victoire vue des Lauves, Paul Cézanne, 1901-1906

 

As Cézanne aged, his paintings became filled by more and more naked canvas, what he eloquently called nonfinito. No one had ever done this before. The painting was clearly incomplete. How could it be art? But Cézanne was unfazed by his critics. He knew that his paintings were only literally blank. Their incompleteness was really a metaphor for the process of sight. In these unfinished canvases, Cézanne was trying to figure out what the brain would finish for him. As a result, his ambiguities are exceedingly deliberate, his vagueness predicated on precision. If Cézanne wanted us to fill in his empty spaces, then he had to get his emptiness exactly right.

For example, look at Cézanne’s watercolors of Mont Sainte-Victoire. In his final years, Cézanne walked every morning to the crest of Les Lauves, where an expansive view of the Provençal plains opened up before him. He would paint in the shade of a linden tree. From there, Cézanne said, he could see the land’s hidden patterns, the way the river and vineyards were arranged in overlapping planes. In the background was always the mountain; that jagged isosceles of rock that seemed to connect the dry land with the infinite sky….

And yet the mountain does not disappear. It is there, an implacable and adamant presence. The mind easily invents the form that Cézanne’s paint barely insinuates. Although the mountain is almost literally invisible – Cézanne has only implied its presence – its looming gravity anchors the painting. We don’t know where the painting ends and we begin…

– Jonah Lehrer: Proust was a Neuroscientist


Source – http://www.selfdiscoveryportal.com/Conquest.htm
PS – The entire article is well worth reading.