Intention, our direct statement of what it is we hope to receive through our images, is the first step of art as a spiritual path. We can make art to find our way into and through personal issues, if that is our intention. Our images help us untie knots in the threads of our consciousness that come to us through our family lineage, our individual karma, or present life events. Depending on what we ask for, images come to us that reveal our fears, clarify decisions we must make, provide hope and direction, help us articulate a vision for our individual future, and allow us to see obstacles we are ignoring. Threaded through our seemingly personal dilemmas are also gifts of wisdom that nourish those around us indirectly when we choose this work.
As Kim (whose story appears in chapter 5) creates her mandala paintings and collages at home, her young sons learn that the dining room table is a place to feed the soul, an act as important as feeding the body and therefore conducted at a central location in the home. Kim’s stated intention may be to calm and center herself by working on the mandala. An implicit aspect of her intention is also to unite and weave together her roles as artist and mother. In doing so she presents the possibility of integration to her sons, a subtle but crucial lesson in our culture, which still separates work from life to a great degree.
I believe that our imagery comes not only to nourish our own understanding and to influence those around us in a subtle way; it also comes to speak to our communities and the world. It isn’t merely content that wants to be conveyed; it is also new ways of thinking, of absorbing experience and information, of participating in life, of being, and of being together. The path of art is a tutorial in the process of intuition. As we grow in our artmaking our intentions become clearer, and we can ask for what we need. We can also make it our intention to serve the needs of others and of the world, and to gain guidance about sustainable ways to be of service.
Having stated our intention, we prepare to make art. The first step of artmaking is playful. Artmaking can be simple or complex, can occur alone or with others, can involve simple materials or complex multistep processes. Each person finds their own way to the right art experience by following the energy, flow, and pleasure that comes with opening ourselves to the guidance of the Creative Source. In a studio, for example, participants may walk around and look at materials on the shelves until something catches their eye or may be drawn to a color of paint or the texture of working with fabrics. In the classes I facilitate, we often begin by simply making marks on paper while we play CDs of drumming music to help us let go of our thinking mind. There is no right or wrong way to begin. Artists also take inspiration from the images created by others in the studio, from nature, dreams, books, gallery visits, or ancient symbols. Artmaking as a practice stops time, opens us to rest our thinking mind, and nourishes our senses. After a sustained period of artmaking, enough to have an experience of merging with the Creative Source, we stop to step back and see what has arrived, an experience of separation. Each art experience moves through a cycle of inquiry, engagement, and celebration. We step in, become immersed, lose ourselves, and emerge enlarged. The cycle of the artmaking process reveals itself repeatedly over a lifetime of artmaking. It spirals through the raw material of our life and leads us into an ever-deepening relationship with the flow of Nature as She bestows our own truth and teachings. These ideas will be discussed more fully in the section on artmaking.
The next practice is that of witness writing about the image. We first recognize the image as fully as we can by becoming still in its presence, becoming aware of our body and breathing. Sitting before the work in a chair and just looking and receiving its message can take several minutes at least. Next, we write in a journal or notebook kept especially for our witness writings in the form of descriptions, observations, intuitive responses, and, especially, dialogue with the image. Witness employs freewriting where spelling, grammar, and punctuation are not important. In fact, “slips of the pen” often yield additional levels of meaning that enrich what we “meant” to say. An essential part of art as a spiritual path is reading the witness writings to the artwork aloud in the presence of others, allowing the message from the image to attain its true power and significance by giving it the resonance of voice. The listener or listeners simply silently receive what is spoken, without verbal comment, although sighs, and sometimes tears or laughter, are not uncommon. When engaged in this act of deep listening, we function as embodiments of witness consciousness for one another. Witness consciousness is that attribute of the Divine that does not judge but simply holds, hears, and cherishes.
While there may be a facilitator of a particular art experience, each artist is in charge of their own experience. The ultimate goal of art as a spiritual practice is to actualize the artist archetype in each person. The artist archetype activates the ability to see things from an aesthetic perspective, discern harmonies and dissonances, and initiate new combinations or interpretations of life. Every artist develops and deepens their relationship with the Creative Source, the internal guide from which inner wisdom comes, and learns to express and share Its gifts. We learn to recognize and honor that wisdom in each other, learn from each other, and take our ability to see the Divine in every person into our daily life.
Part One distills the essence of studio practice: stating an intention, inquiry, engagement, and celebration through artmaking and witness writing. These elements constitute a form of “meditation in action” that will hold an infinitely varied content while providing a structure that ensures both safety and depth. Studio practice gives us the means to explore new ways of being together that allow both intimacy and privacy through the disciplined use of imaginative creation. Some of the rules that make studio practice effective, such as the practice of no-comment, are unfamiliar and only make sense through committed use over time. I am always happy to engage in dialogue with anyone who makes use of these methods. My Web site, www.patballen.com, provides a virtual studio, forum for questions, and an environment for the continued unfolding of art as a spiritual path.