Throngs stream into stadiums and arenas to see contests between teams or solo competitors, or into theaters to listen to singers, hoping that there may be a glimpse into the mystery of life and beyond, giving voice literally to that which might elevate the mind and transform ordinariness, spark something with possibility. We listen for the lilt in the voice or the moistness of the eyes that tells us that emotion is rising, that the heart of the singer is affected, that something is afoot. We hope to become different, to have our senses expanded, the impossible reeled in and made near. We have words for the experience of accessing the unknown: Transcendent, uplifting, divine, and surreal.
We may view a piece of art, a painting, a photograph, or we may sense in some way that something special, unusual or undefinable is upon us. It may be fleeting and transient, but we know those moments as breathtaking and memorable.
On the other hand, when life is only drudgery and slop, hope and possibility drift away to the cold reaches of the night. We sag, we worry, we cannot sing. We cannot even breathe very well.
It is certain that living things, humans certainly, need those transitory moments when the dimensions of ordinary life change, when time stands still and when creativity and imagination are in full bloom. We need to have time to let our minds wander, to drift undisciplined and unruly into the state of dimensionless being.
Ask any artist what I mean, and they will tell you: Time stands still or means nothing, and it is as if they become a tool for the creative force of life itself.
Sometimes, I imagine I can step into pictures and exist in them. I exchange my mundane existence for a walk in new worlds known to no one else. I let my mind wander far into the realm of imagination. It is as if I can push the edges of the painting's frame or photograph's edges aside and climb into a different state of mind.
Nothing is possible. That is, nothingness is possible, even probable, when we do not live in between worlds at least part of the day. The cues that beckon us to the dance of creativity are for our eyes and ears to catch and relay to our hearts, which beat more strongly when we do. A backlit field of wheat at dawn, a fleeting smile, the ringing note of a trumpet in the woods are talismans for the torch of imagination that must be sparked if we are to be alive fully.
What piques your interest, stirs your heart, speaks to your eternal spirit? Are you dancing lively, you tender creator of your own possibility?
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1 comment:
Well, one good is that you're back to writing in your blog again, after an absence of several weeks. Perhaps your muse was on vacation? Or perhaps you suffered a bit of burn-out and needed to be refreshed? In any case, welcome back....
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