Positive (poz) and negative (nez). Space. Thoughts. I have been investigating these contradictions, observations, theories and judgements in the past couple of months. Not just within a context of art gallery talk, but within my own confines of living. I got into the habit somehow (perhaps this voice just got louder and louder) of listening to my sub-conscious mind all the time, which can be tricky when faced with an internal dialogue of repetitive tapes: put-downs, false information and self-protection strategies which no longer serve my real being. However, when I really took time to listen to those tapes I noticed everything was a judgement made to survive the perceived gauntlet of life in this primordial space–friend or foe, safe or dangerous, acceptable behavior or unacceptable–mine or other peoples’. Everything became good or bad. In the buddhist sense, now, I can’t say it was good or bad to listen to that torrent, but I can say its been an exercise in compassion. Things in life just aren’t that simple and my life has been anything but linear. Its risky to get stuck listening to that judgement voice, but maybe for a little while it helped me realize I am not that voice. I am not those put-downs. I may not be able to ever know if something that has happened is good or bad, because how do we know if, in the future, it will be?
Here’s where you hold your breath and wait to read about the terrible thing that has occurred in my life and how I’ve found a silver lining. And here is where I write instead about the door that leads to a continuation of life which includes ups and downs, or “peaks and valleys” as my mom says. Here is where I get to choose to explore what’s next and throw down the backpack of all those judgements I brought with me. In a particularly intense, amazing moment in New Mexico once, I wandered out into the high desert and got caught up in a small detail of rocks on the ground. After awhile, I noticed the sun was getting high and hot on my back. I stood up and lost my bearings. The wind had blown my tracks away. The scrub junipers all pointed different directions and had different opinions about which way was home. I looked at the bag of things I had brought with me–which contained nothing of use for survival in the desert such as a compass, water, extra cloths and the like. A thought occurred to me then, “Why did I bring all this stuff?” Why do we bring it all with us when we can rely on one tool most of the time: openness.
I’ve been learning a lot in Eugene and have continued on a not-so-chartered course around my world. But its a course I have maintained steadily and still believe in. One that recently lead me to an amazing drawing class and a monthly event called “Draw-a-Drag-Queen”. I’ve been using an old National Geographic book about birds for a sketchbook lately and have been enjoying the results. Thanks to Unbound Sketchbook Challenge, Farce Family , Tropical Contemporary, Lane Community College Arts Program and the University of Oregon.