Inspired By Dante

Between

2011-02-14T14:45:00.002-05:00

I find myself in between - between young and old... between the span of active motherhood & passive motherhood... between purpose and indifference, between church and faith... between passion & desire... between loads of laundry and dishes... between winter and spring.

I read a passage from the hymnal "do not look for me among the dead, for I am hidden in pain." Pain. Why pain? Why must we work thru pain to find the the deeper meanings? Is it only thru pain that we are rattled from our happy stupor, our intoxication of the happy surface? We sense God and Spirit in joy, but do we truly learn?

The song continues: "risen in love, there is no harvest without sowing of grain." Sowing of the grain: Dharma and Karma. Dharma is our life path, our duty, the reason why we are here. Karma is the energy - acquired via actions... energy that is transformed into either creative light or a destructive stain.

Father said, "we place our saints in glass, so that the light can shine thru them." Within each of us The Light exists, but how much light do we emit? Everyday we can look and see those in whom the light shines brightly, and others whose light is obscured or obliterated by the grime and stains of destructive action. Only in service and creative diligence can we polish the glass in order to permit the light to shine through. If I dare to suggest, I believe this to be the true purpose of our lives and our highest goal.

In the Divine Comedy, all of Paradiso is about this Light. Dante prays to convey just a hint of what he has seen. Yet he also fears that he falls "between." Between knowing and describing... between heaven and earth... between mortality and immortality... between bliss and an attempt to describe the indescribable.

Perhaps I can turn this being "between" into a creative and positive experience. Perhaps I can slip between action and inaction... slip between the tick of the clock, into that silent place where the Light is found... to the place where "one is transformed within that Light that it would be impossible to think of ever turning one's eyes from that sight." Paradiso Canto XXIII Perhaps being "In Between" is a good thing.

I Have A Dream for Humanity

2010-08-28T19:15:00.007-04:00

I find it so odd that, over the course of time, as humanity has tried to reconcile differences, heal old wounds, new and inherited, to move toward peace and equal opportunity, how can some still seek to covet power, and to achieve at the cost of others. When so many have shown the path to justice and liberty, there still are always present those who cling with angry claws to the very things that divide us still today... as though Humanity keeps flipping the coin of hatred and division. Neither side of such a coin is valuable. Like Dante's souls we still face the same challenges inherent in Human Nature. The Human Condition... prone to tear us apart... over and over again.

The founding of America was a great attempt to lay a foundation to over come this tendency of mankind. Setting into word AND law the opportunity for Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness, it recognized certain inalienable rights... Rights granted to everyone by God, not by man... No man, no Government should assume to be able to personally grant such rights. It is arrogant. It is corrupt. The Constitution was seeking to create a "more Perfect" nation... For the first time in the history of man, a place was created from scratch to allow the OPPORTUNITY for prosperity and life. We are not perfect but we try in earnest to improve. At least we are Free to Choose.

In America's past, we had our walls. And as we tear one wall, a new one is built. In a perversion of equality (seeking to make up for inequality) a new wall or division is created. We just seem to flip the same coin. Why? Why do we draw boxes and walls around groups, races, religions, political parties, sexual preference, professions, classes, etc? We categorize, generalize, victimize and demonize. These are divisive actions, not unitive.

It is not a small thing, in mankind, that each generation must learn the bitter lessons of the past in order to avoid the pitfalls of the future. Yet we never seem to learn well enough to keep the walls of inequality and division from being rebuilt, made taller or stronger. These are the eternal challenges of humanity.

In 1963, when I was three years old, a brave man...an individual, came to the feet of Abraham Lincoln to share his hopes and his dreams. When he said, "The Glory of the Lord will be revealed and the flesh shall see it together" he tore down those walls of Euro White and African Black. He said "together" The dream is not exclusive - it is unifying. It is not only for some, but for all. He asked us not to "judge us not by the color of our skin, but on the content of our character." Character cannot be seen on the surface. The surface can be deceptive. Character can only be demonstrated and revealed through our words and most importantly, our deeds. These notions, and thoughts expressed, with great humility, by Reverend Martin Luther King Jr. are are universal. They are eternal.

Freedom comes to those who open themselves up to it. A softening of the heart and mind must be accomplished to let peace and freedom in. Anger, vitriol, and resentment block the grace that flows as freedom. Freedom is an inalienable right. Freedom is a state of mind, expressed in Love and only Love... for fellow man, and all of God's creatures. No one or No thing is exempt.

Today...today and only today it is the very moment for to open ourselves. Today is always this day. It is now...this moment. The past is done. It is unchangeable. It is only a two dimensional record. Tomorrow, too is an abstraction of "What if's" It absolutely is determined by TODAY.

Just know that it is a lonely journey...an intensely personal journey. And as sure as we are born, then each of us must learn, grow, love and strive with every breath to live up to these principles. With every breath and every action we plant seeds for tomorrow. That is a great responsibility. In Canto XIII, we are reminded:

"Just as the blind cannot enjoy the sun,

so to the shades I saw before me here

the light of Heaven denies its radiance.

The eyelids of these shades had been sewn shut

with iron threads, like falcons newly caught,

whose eyes we stitch to tame their restlessness.”

(translation by Mark Musa)

Can we learn from the 14th Century? Can we SEE ? Or must we be blinded first in order to see?

2010-08-27T11:39:00.004-04:00

Today ...today and only today is the moment to open ourselves to all possibilities. To open ourselves to creative solutions, fellowship, Love.

Today is all we truly have.

It is now...this moment.

The Past? The past is done. It is unchangeable. It is only a two dimensional record.

Tomorrow? Tomorrow, too, is an abstraction of "What if's" "potentials" "Consequences" (intended, unintended...) It is yet to be determined. It is malleable, changeable. How? Because tomorrow is determined only by TODAY.

We are born with all the time that is or ever was. We shall never have any MORE time. We have and we have always had, all the time there is.

Two Worlds

2010-08-11T14:34:00.006-04:00

Inside me resides so many deep thoughts, so many observations,... so many, that it touches that deeper place of "knowing", of deeper seeing. I want to go deep within... down under the surface - to the silent depths of what is true, what is real...

A sudden burst of morning sunlight breaks through the emerald canopy. It filters through and glows with divinity. And I am transfixed.

I try to balance myself between two worlds. One is real and serious and profound. It is creative and silent. It reveals great things without a sound.. it fills me up. Like the still reflection on the water, it is calming and invites me to look under the surface.

The other is loud, active, somewhat superficial and, at times, trivial... with salon-style chatter of so many words with nothing to say...it leaves me hungry for silence. Most of us exist here - all mixed in - with pleasure and pain. It can be fun, but it is distracting and leaves me empty. I simply cannot go through life without seeking some sort of deeper truth and universal meaning. I have found that when I have touch upon these things, the strength of the divine is felt.

I struggle to balance between these two worlds. Happily nature brings me back in touch. It brings the "me" back...the artist, the creator, the seeker.

It is who I am.

The Dead of Winter is Alive & Well

2010-02-22T08:58:00.016-05:00

" Keep a green tree in your heart and perhaps

a singing bird will come." - Chinese Proverb

A mist fills the morning landscape, lending a quiet mystery and restful beauty to my view. Like a downy blanket, it feels warm over the snow and wet ground. A single singing bird visits in the snowy landscape to remind me he is here. He sings because this is his dharma. He sings in advance of warm days to come. It all is a playful tease, hinting at spring, which remains, nonetheless, many weeks away.

By February, so many are tired of the cold, the snow, the grey days and heavy clothes. But I love my snow boots. I love the feel of cashmere and fleece. But realizing today that spring being six weeks away, reminds me to relax and enjoy the final days of winter.

It is easy to dismiss the end of winter... good riddance, right? Yet, I write this morning to remind myself to appreciate the sheer beauty that the natural world offers us in winter. To take comfort in the blanket of snow that holds the seedlings captive, the crocus dormant and all of green life, patiently waiting to burst forth when it can. This is the quiet time, the regenerative time, the time of stillness. A time to marvel how the squirrel digs his nuts he buried 6 months ago... to observe how the icicles grow, making marvelous sculptures. Yes, the harshness of winter may wear us down, but not if we use the time wisely... like nature... being dormant, being quiet, yet preparing for the energetic period of spring. Beauty exists all around us at every moment. It just is there -here - waiting to be seen... almost yearning to be noticed.

The Bright World

2009-03-25T07:39:00.006-04:00

Today I think of Dante's description of "The Bright World" and my thoughts begin to dwell on those of Beauty, of light and of the earth and I sink into my true self - my artist self - then I think of of the dark world where many so blindly live... the destructive places, the holes and the dirty trenches - where like cockroaches - some humans dwell.

Do they not recognize the bright world - why do they persist to live in the destructive hell holes? Thieves, addicts, abusers, cheats, traitors...

Our youngest arrivals - bright and full of promise - reflect the bright world in their sparkling eyes. Yet for so many the sparkles will fade. When does their world turn? Why do some slip in the cracks - fall into the hell hole? Why do some follow - others even jump? And my heart fills with such deep sadness knowing that the only way out is thru pain and suffering - like Dante's Journey. Some will make it back to the bright world. Some won't. Some will forget that it is even there. We all slip. We all need a Virgil.

Is Virgil like the silver thread of faith and experience? The hand that has passed thru the flames before us... the guide. It is said that when we are ready, that a guide will come to us. Will we know it? Will we follow? Will we once again see "the bright world"?

Bringing the Inner Journey OUT

2007-12-02T11:22:00.001-05:00

Why Dante? Why the Divine Comedy? What is the Commedia really? Why do we follow Dante into the dark wood and on into the inferno of hell? Curiousity? Required Reading? I urge you to look beyond the mounds of historical data, the details, and the long tedious dialogue. Try to see it in its simplicity. Think of it as a guidebook for the living. By observing Dante’s journey, it becomes one’s own lesson for life.

I turned to the book in a great search for truths regarding faith, life and meaning. I naively bumped into Dante in the same woods. I found a parallel in my own life’s journey and in the end, afterward, was able to look back and see the amazing journey for what it was…a tour thru one’s darkest times, ones lowest emotional state, into the depths of despair, eventually to emerge to a place in the light world, the joy, the Paradiso.

One recognizes the light again, only this time, the quality is enhanced. The light in the valley is different from the light now seen from the Summit. And while the light emanates from the same source, it has changed. The light is purer. The air is cleaner. The seer has acquired wisdom and insight.

Reading the Divine Comedy in its entirety takes one to a heightened vantage point both spiritually and intellectually. It leaves one humbled and in awe.

Pensive

2007-09-13T09:28:00.000-04:00

The last glimmer of brilliant green,...transluscent green,...sunlight through morning lit leaves. I see this from my window. Open window, crisp cool air to relieve the stagnant collection of dust and artificially cooled air from preceeding days of exhausting heat. The jump from hot to cold is so quick. Too quick. Each moment of this day, with its lovely sunlight, it's fresh air filling my spirit must be appreciated. I just have to remember to notice. To withdraw from the "other" stuff filling my agenda, my list, my life and just take a deep breath and notice.

To be an artist is really a simple thing. It merely is the art of observation, meditation and introspection. And with this dedication and practice, creativity is a natural outcome. The challenge is withdrawing from rapid chaos of everything and permitting oneself a moment to LOOK and to SEE. In our ambitious American world of productivity and constant motion, this becomes a difficult thing to do at times. Or maybe its just me and my wonder woman generation of the do it all, be it all types. Because when asked what "I do" I first say I'm an artist and then pause and truthfully say that right now I'm devoting most of my time to my family, my three sons and husband. And this really may be the most important and creative endeavor anyone of us can attempt to accomplish!

A tear for humanity; a tear for VT

2007-04-17T09:51:00.001-04:00

I am blank. No words. It leaves a hole too big and a penetrating sadness and reminds me terribly of my post about my grandfather.

It's as though a vile hand has reached up through the darkness and has grabbed my ankle and is determined to pull me in.

But I won't go.

A letter to my Grandfather and All Those Who Have Lost Someone in Violence

2007-03-14T08:52:00.001-04:00

I remember that on this date, in 1991, it was your last day on earth. I remember your smile and the twinkle in your eyes. I remember your laugh. I remember hearing the distant sirens not realizing at the time that they were headed toward you. I remember that when they found you, you still had a pen in your hand.

I remember the shock and of lack of understanding. The inability to comprehend the phone call that you'd been killed? What? Who? ...What??? Like one wasn't hearing correctly.

I remember the nearly physical feeling of suddenly being cast between the known layers of time. Where regular time, present, past and future all cease and you find yourself in a space where instinct takes over.

I remember retrieving my grandmother, so fragile and innocent, and bringing her to you. She never recovered from that day, this day, and began to die herself from that day forward.

A piece of me died that day too. The shock waves of Violence and evil travel deep. They knock us down into the black from which it rose and the known path becomes lost. And all of life as we knew it remains in that space of time now defined as "before." It is packaged and sealed and is placed in a box seemingly separate and lost. The world becomes, for a time, a dark wood. Where one begs for light, but doesn't know how to find it, for all of the paths are overgrown and seem to lead one only deeper into darkness.

And I remember the feeling of joy "before" but can't seem to find it now even though it's been quite some time since someone murdered you, grandfather.

And one feels oddly connected to an invisible community of victims...those other people you read about in the newspaper; but you never signed up. You don't want to be a member.

And you live your life still feeling like you're slightly apart from the flow, separate and changed. And the optimistic joy that defined your life is inaccessible. And you go that way, day after day after day.

You smile and laugh, but you don't really. You chat about things that don't matter. You don't pity your plight. Worse, you just frankly don't care about much anymore and THAT is probably the saddest place to be...empty and without capacity for reciprocal joy.

But Grandfather, feel glad for me if you can. Know that I am OK. Know that this terrible thing has given me the greatest gift, even though I could not imagine it so many years ago, on this day. For eventually, in a most quiet yet powerful way, God presents himself to me in the form of a simple white flower; a fragile flower that appeared out of no where, that grew up in a crack in the exact middle of my expansive driveway, in the heat of July, in the middle of a drought. And when I saw that flower, I realized that despite the harshness of life and the odds of survival, even a seedling, in the midst of barely any soil, little water and intense heat, can find it's way. ..to be what it was meant to be. Even the fragile flower finds it's expression in life.

In such a moment, your heart re-starts, you gasp in recognition of what this flower represents and just as suddenly as it stopped, the WELL of hope and joy and all that you knew yourself to be is tapped. The path is illuminated and recognized.

And God has said, in an unexpected and silent way...I'm still here.

And you weep and weep and weep...and the tears of sadness mingle with the longed for tears of pure joy. And finally you know that you will be OK even though there is still healing to be done, the healing can begin.

I love you, Papa. The journey is never easy, but when the way is found, it is rich beyond words.
Is there any wonder why I find the Commedia to be so profound?

Fighting the Malaise of Regularity

2006-11-09T11:11:00.000-05:00

Whirling around in my mind and my heart are things that go so far beyond the malaise of regularity.

I have begun to understand, in a profound way, why many (some of them great) artists were incapable of leading “normal” lives. They fell apart or ran away from it. Because of this constant “mental distance” many artists become inept in normal life and frustrated in their creative life. Yes, the carrying out of daily obligations, domestic duties are simple enough. At times there is great pleasure and joy in these tasks. Eventually, however, I fear life may become one great “Plan” or “List” of tiny “To Dos.” And in the End, what is the contribution or positive result of having faithfully provided clean underwear and routinely dusted baseboards?

And all around, there are those pushing for conformity.

Some of us simply do not belong here in this pool of regular folk but we do the best we can to keep our heads above water. This may sound strange to most, but I think it is a sentiment shared by many creative souls.

Vespas & Smart Cars

2006-09-27T08:29:00.000-04:00

It is surreal, when in the blink of an eye, one has been transported so far. The journey made. The journey over. But it never really is over is it.

The set up and opening in Rome was perfect. Everything went smoothly! And when confronting the unknowns of such a distant journey, I am most grateful for the beauty of all things.

I return to Italia in just a few days. Departing the sounds of lawn mowers and leaf blowers and returning to the sounds of Vespas and Smart cars. Upon one shoulder rests the guilt of leaving my family for three weeks. And upon the other, the excitement and anticipation of fulfilling my quest. I do know that I will return a much better wife, and a much better mother. Sometimes the desire to "do" something for oneself grows so large, that a slight depression and apathy sets in. It seeps in to the way we do things...or don't do things. I know it sounds difficult to imagine, but I find joy in doing laundry, cleaning house and grocery shopping, whatever the task. I find joy, because I do it for "them," my family.

But for now, for the next three weeks, I am asking them to share me with others. And for that I am deeply grateful.

The Proud, Purgatorio

2006-08-29T08:15:00.001-04:00

Canto X .139

"piangendo parea dicer: 'Più non posso'."

"weeping he seemed to say: 'I can no more.'"

When the samskaras rise and the troubles of the world build, like the Proud of Dantes' Purgatory, the weight becomes unbearable.

Suffocation, buried... clawing to get free. I now fully understand why many creative spirits cannot live "normal" lives...for the drive & passion over this thing that dwells within - this motivation of expression - this sense of purpose beyond mere existence - is all consuming.

We are the ones who do not flow evenly in the river of daily life. In fact most people are oblivious to the fact that they are even in the river. Born in the calm pools, we flow from the stream to the brook, which seemlessly becomes the lazy river. But water is not always calm in the river and there are many tributaries to take. Along the way, some are pulled under & drown, or crash upon the rocks. Many survive but are scarred or ruined. Too few, paddle to the side to watch along the way...to attempt to gain a vantage point to see where the river leads...gain a perspective. Which tributary to navigate? Which way to the sea? ...to the end of ones' life, where we melt away into the unknown.

One must ask, what does he hope to see along this one way journey in the River of Life? Which tributaries has he chosen? Which way will he choose today? Did he find his way to the bank to watch for a while or did he simply float blindfolded and dumb?

Sometimes I Still Think He's Coming Home

2006-08-27T21:39:00.000-04:00

The leaves are changing once more
and billowed clouds drift by endlessly.

I watch the seasons pass
I too am swept in their progress
For I am late in the autumn of my life.

For 54 years I have shared the seasons with another.

We shared sunsets of crimson and golden hues
where the clouds were so pink against the turquoise sky
it would remind one of a painting by Van Gogh.

We spent stormy nights close together
Stronger, the two of us, against nature's wrath.
And with winter's chill, we shared the warmth of our bodies,
he and I.

And every spring, as the buds unfold their fragile petals,
We too would open ourselves fresh and new to the world.
Our hearts so young despite the wrinkles in our skin.

But now I am alone.
And the greatest difficulty is overcoming habit,
for upon occassion, in a fleeting moment I am caught unaware...
And Sometimes I still think he's coming home.

In memory of my grandmother, Marguerite and grandfather, Bill.

Humanity

2006-08-21T13:07:00.000-04:00

To hell with diversity. Bring back Humanity!

Anymore, I can't listen to the "News." I believe that our world is shaped by how we choose to see it. And the regular barrage of negative information, points of views, and constant blathering of dribble is boring. Will it ever go away? No, but I can change my point of view. Why should I continue to stare at the gutter when there is a rainbow overhead. All I need to do it to turn my head. Refocus. Refill. Refresh.

Am I denying the gutter? No. Am I abandoning my responsibility as a citizen? No. But I feel that I can best help by maintaining a positive point of view, rather than struggling in the choking pit. By bringing light into the darkness, creativity and positive effects are most often the results.

Preparing for Italy

2006-08-20T23:45:00.000-04:00

A beautiful day was spent at the lake. Ah, decompression. My exhibition is just weeks away and I can't believe it's almost here!

Reading Dante; Purgatorio

2006-08-11T08:38:00.000-04:00

Canto XX .146

"Nulla ignoranza mai con tanta guerrami fé desideroso di sapere."

-Never before had my ignorance caused within me such a desperate desire to know the truth.

A million Miles Away from Evil

2006-08-10T09:40:00.002-04:00

At this moment the cicada sing and the honey bees gather pollen in my lush patio garden. The nuthatch seeks a sunflower seed and the humming birds race around the feeder. I have exactly four butterflies deeply interested in the Joe Pye Weed. The cappucino is warm and frothy in my cup...and yet today more evil has been exposed as murderous intentions are being uncovered. Thousands of good people are displaced from their homes, delayed from their journeys, wait in lines, attempting to lead their peaceful lives as a few men attempt to claim theirs. I feel like a million miles away from it all, but I know I am not.

It's like Lord of the Flies times ten...only they have built themselves an island in the middle of humanity and are shipwrecked within the confines of their self-imposed shores. How can they be so lost? They are like lonely children in the middle of a nightmare, but how can we wake them up? Why have they become so blinded by the corruption of those they follow?

And I naively wish I could invite just one to my garden for some cappucino, to show them a different reality..., to share the beauty of what is life and assure them that this is how it, not only should be, but CAN BE. And then I understand that this beauty is present within every and any moment for those who choose to seek it. But that is something that they must do for themselves.

Namaste, J