There are people in life that seem to easily take things for face value and not feel bothered by deeper questions. Then there are those of us that can't help but see past the veil of surface-observation through to the less clear waters of hyper-observation.
Not wanting to be left behind in the current, always looking for and trying to locate and connect with a source; it's here I find myself so often.
It's ironic. You would think that hyper-observation would reveal more truth, more clarity, more understanding, but it often seems like the complete opposite. Questionings, wonderings and thoughts are murky waters that are too easy to get lost in. Too easy to loose your way to the surface to get air. I have gotten lost in these waters often in my life. but the reward is when I find a crystal clear stretch of water that I can see through, see my reflection and see the light. Would I have recognized that crystal clear patch if I hadn't delved into the dark water?
But if only I could stay in the lucid place,s what then? I suppose that is why I paint, write music and continually bring myself back to meditating. I have come to realize that my creative process isn't about going deep into all the layers after all. It's quite possible that the process is about my re-emergence from them.
There seems to be a major difference between those that can keep their distance from the pitfalls of existential questioning and the complex interplay of human-connection and those of us that sometimes seem to dissolve through the filters to only loose ourselves in the chaos of our endless what-ifs, why's, future, pasts and inside-outs.
Is there a better way? Is it better to question or not question? And do some of us even have a choice?
There are those dedicated masters in the middle that seem to skillfully walk through the windy lands of thought in pure observation while still being able to clearly see their refection in a drop of dew. Just thinking of those individuals brings me a temporary inner calm...
...Yet, I digress and look back at the myriad of selves that I have been over the years. As each self has eclipse into a new self, I can still feel an essence of what is supposedly 'Me' that doesn't seem to fade. That self that is always trying to see past what is in front to see if some better understanding can be revealed.
It's a painful way to walk about. It's like a non-stop recipe for disappointment. Perfectly revealing my inability ever trust whatever or whoever is in front of me.
I have been thinking of the subjects of my paintings. How I try to capture time and movement in these stationary forms. I want to show the past and the future in the present, but it won't stay still, time moves and when I think I've caught up I realize I have already been left behind. And that is what I fear the most.
I am reminded of a poem I wrote from January of 2015:
Are you still wondering about the shadows beneath the surface?
When you close your eyes in quiet,
just before the chattering stops, before the drifting,
past the sifting,
Is it here you wonder?
"What is that slipping towards me?
Should I be afraid?"
What is that slipping towards me?