This morning the old 1904 part of the house where I normally do yoga was freezing! I guess the radiator heat system is broken. Not being able to do my yoga there, I moved my mat, quilts, and other yoga props into the new part of house.
At first I was disgruntled by the uneven terra cotta floor, which I blamed for not being able to do my balance poses, (handy excuse). But over the next forty-five minutes, I realized that I was fortunate to be able to watch the full moon set across the winter sky through the big glass wall in the family room.
Every time I looked up from a pose, the moon had moved a little more, and as it moved behing the winter trees, I saw how big it was. That huge white circle in the dark sky reminded me of a poem I wrote about a winter moon in high school. I always did a lot of creative writing when I was younger. I think the first story I ever wrote was called “I am a Pickle.”
But as a kid I always struggled with the concept of being a writer versus being an artist. It was so unfair, writers could have their work reprinted by the millions and could be experienced by so many people. Artists on the other hand, I thought, could only have one original that would be experienced by a limited audience. And the visual arts were undemocratic too, because buying or owning a work of art was much more expensive than buying a paperback book.
I suppose recently those internal arguments have been softened a little by computers, the internet, and other digital media. And recently I have been working more writing into my artwork in little devious ways.
But back to the moon. I have never watched the moon set, and I think it put me into the Zone. I think the Zone is a meditative state of mind, or maybe a kind of out-of-body experience. Athletes talk about the Zone, artists talked about a creative mental state, yoga masters try to reach some kind of bliss, but I think it all might be a similar experience.
Sometimes I can get into the Zone when I draw or paint. But sometimes I’m not sure how I get there, it seems to happen accidently. All of a sudden I’m just there, and then I write or draw some of my best stuff. One time I was eating lunch, I think it was a hot dog and Campbell’s soup, and suddenly I got up from the table and wrote one of my best poems ever.
I guess that’s one reason I started this blog. I’m not sure how to get to that place where I create the best, but I’m always searching. I could try writing after yoga each morning, but if I add that to my current regima, even though I’m getting up at 5:30 I might never make it to the studio before noon.
I shouldn’t even be writing this right now, because I have a full day with four meetings scheduled, the biggest one being the art quilt group meeting where we are going to review all the work for our show. But you know, probably a lot of great art would never have been created if people always did what they “should.” Not that this is great art. But hopefully it’s on the road to making some…..