"One often becomes an artist through some intense turning. It shifted your attention from the bit sinking, toward the side emerging. The floating clump is not dead matter, though. It is alive and responds to the moves you make. To stuff added or removed. To the maelstrom of existence." Beautiful Bertus. Enjoy the turning, the composting, the emerging. "To everything turn, turn, turn. There is a season turn, turn, turn."
Such wise words. Sharing this with the young ones.
[Saw how we (my brother, sister, once the baby) grew up in the absence of our parents, long before they passed. The competition fell away (well, most of it). And we turned into full people (well mostly).]
I just finished a piece I've been working on and received a "final" edit on it from dear friend and colleague. So not finished, and not satisfied, not feeling even the okness of all that, so I sit with the turning today.....blessing all that is below the surface....to come.....thanks for meeting me there today with your "the unfinished product"
So much wisdom in this post, the need for life, states of mind, moods, situations, relationships, people to be fixed in time, instead of always, always turning and changing, meandering along. You have nailed it so poetically as always, glad to be dipping back into your writing! I espesically loved the last two lines. My hoop practice is about this endless turning, I think the word universe means undivided turning?
I love the image of people being icebergs and underestimating our size. So true! I am reminded here of my metaphor of the emotional permafrost... although that's a slightly different topic.
And then the unfinishedness of things, or projects... To creative people (like you and us) this is perfectly normal. We are continuously living with 'work in progress'. For writers especially. A book is never finished. You read it again a few years later, from a distant place, thinking, 'gosh, did I write that?' And soon you might find yourself drawn in wanting to edit and rewrite...
Not so easy with a painting, I guess. Although a friend (who is a painter) sometimes uses her old canvases and paints a completely new piece over the previous one.
I like living with unfinishedness. It feels comfortable and comforting. Having written 5 novels and translated about 20 books, I know the feeling of being 'finished' very well. There is always an anti-climax.
"Have you ever noticed how weird the concept of a finished product is?"
I hadn't, actually. Thanks!!
"One often becomes an artist through some intense turning. It shifted your attention from the bit sinking, toward the side emerging. The floating clump is not dead matter, though. It is alive and responds to the moves you make. To stuff added or removed. To the maelstrom of existence." Beautiful Bertus. Enjoy the turning, the composting, the emerging. "To everything turn, turn, turn. There is a season turn, turn, turn."
Such wise words. Sharing this with the young ones.
[Saw how we (my brother, sister, once the baby) grew up in the absence of our parents, long before they passed. The competition fell away (well, most of it). And we turned into full people (well mostly).]
I just finished a piece I've been working on and received a "final" edit on it from dear friend and colleague. So not finished, and not satisfied, not feeling even the okness of all that, so I sit with the turning today.....blessing all that is below the surface....to come.....thanks for meeting me there today with your "the unfinished product"
So much wisdom in this post, the need for life, states of mind, moods, situations, relationships, people to be fixed in time, instead of always, always turning and changing, meandering along. You have nailed it so poetically as always, glad to be dipping back into your writing! I espesically loved the last two lines. My hoop practice is about this endless turning, I think the word universe means undivided turning?
I love the image of people being icebergs and underestimating our size. So true! I am reminded here of my metaphor of the emotional permafrost... although that's a slightly different topic.
And then the unfinishedness of things, or projects... To creative people (like you and us) this is perfectly normal. We are continuously living with 'work in progress'. For writers especially. A book is never finished. You read it again a few years later, from a distant place, thinking, 'gosh, did I write that?' And soon you might find yourself drawn in wanting to edit and rewrite...
Not so easy with a painting, I guess. Although a friend (who is a painter) sometimes uses her old canvases and paints a completely new piece over the previous one.
I like living with unfinishedness. It feels comfortable and comforting. Having written 5 novels and translated about 20 books, I know the feeling of being 'finished' very well. There is always an anti-climax.
Lovely, lovely stuff. Thanks Bertus.
Love this, Bertus - a turning and revealing.