Places
One frame I have used several times in my life is to honor a special place in the landmass with a work of art. Many of us have spots on the body of the earth that feel powerful, important, and connected to us in some way, where we may have spent important days of our lives or had meaningful contact with something beyond the ordinary 3d personality.
Part of nature’s matrices, these locations on the globe carry a special resonance for us and, often, others who are close to us. They are so deserving of being commemorated in art.
My invitation to you: Close your eyes, and after 3 minutes or so of settling into your breath and body sensations, ask your imagination to give you an image of a physical site, that is a potently cherished place for you. Make an art piece or series in dedication to that place.
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My example is a song about a very special spot in Big Sur, where my stepfather had built a small wooden cabin when he was 18 years old.
The site of the cabin is a spot on the earth where nature resounds sonorously. The sea is cornflower blue and velvety, spread out some distance below, and golden hills wrap down to the coast all around.
At the time of writing the song, I had just learned that the cabin had burned to the ground in a wildfire.
Everyone in the family grieved. Most painful of all was to silently bear witness to the sadness my stepfather emanated quietly about the ashing of the cabin he had built with his own hands.
Not a man who verbalizes his heartaches, he went through a period of unaccountable illness. The rest of the family were worried, wanting to know what the matter was.
The song is, in part, about a memory of him taking us all on a hike up to the water source once. It is also about self-isolation, and how I imagine life feels towards us in those times.
Lyrics:
There’s a wild beast in the pasture and a rabbit in the warren. There’s water in the mountains, just behind the redwood forest.
Nothing is there like we think it is. The cabin he built with his own two hands.
We all want to know what the matter is. We all want to know something. Well don’t be alone at the end of the day, or what you will know is lonely.
It’s two hours north on a path straight through the gorges. Two hours by foot, and it leads to where the source is.
Nothing is there like we think it is. Not even the cabin he built with his own two hands.
We all want to know what the matter is. We all want to know something. Don’t be alone at the end of the day, or what you will know is lonely. Don’t sleep alone in the arms of the dark, if what you really want is me.
We came down the mountain, and we were very happy. You came down the mountain, and we were very happy.
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Thumbnail image fondly taken from a printed catalogue for Wildcraft Studio School in White Salmon, Washington.