The Artist's Life

The Artist's Life: Thomas Nozkowski from NYFA on Vimeo.

I am finding myself with fewer and fewer words these days. Oh, I can still chat up a good conversation, and in my coaching calls, probably talk more, and listen less than I might. But here, in the blogosphere, I'm finding my thoughts too numerous to express, and so am defaulting to links.
Here, one from NYFA's Artist Life series
http://www.nyfa.org/nyfa_current_detail.asp?id=17&fid=1&curid=912

less talk more art

the re:institute.

can't talk. dreaming.

so no words today.
just links.
here.http://remodelista.com/posts/slow-design-katrin-arens
here.http://www.katrinarens-shop.com/index.php/welt-der-kleinen/vater-mutter-kind-34.html.

KIRTANARAMA Recap

       




It rained. We sang.

The sun came out. We sang.

Though we didn’t have many others chanting with us, KIRTANARAMA was an integral part of the Governor’s Island and FIGMENT experience for those walking by. People stopped, transfixed by our voices, our hearts and the harmonium.

One lovely young girl, maybe 10 years old, stopped and bowed to us with her hands at her heart before walking on. At one point we were the focus of an ersatz photo shoot, with shutters flying all around. A few brave souls climbed the hill by our side, to listen.

My heart goes out in gratitude to everyone who came to sing and drum, play guitar and violin. Robin Renee, Rick Jarow, Joelle Danant, Terrence Pompey, Sergei, George Jacobs, Devi Rose, Damodar Das, Satya Franche & Ma Kirtan, and Four Corners Chant. Many travelled far longer than expected. It was a leap of faith for all of us.

As always, FIGMENT can be a somewhat disorienting affair. There is a lot going on, spread far and wide on the island. So, it’s not always easy to find one’s destination. And while some of us made a bee line, guided mysteriously and invisibly to our spot, others wandered, misdirected by well intentioned volunteers who did their best to help, but only confused.

Although I requested a location under one of those magnificent English Plane trees, so plentiful on Governor’s Island, originally, we were sited out in the open expansive Parade grounds behind the Fort. Thankfully, relocating was easy enough - right along the path that runs around the whole island - and insured we'd be seen and heard by all who passed by.

My intention for KIRTANARAMA was a community global chant experience. It was a small community to be sure. But perhaps next year, with more help on all fronts, we can create an experience that will continue to grow and evolve.

For me, there really is nothing like being outdoors. Chanting under the trees, even in the soaking rain, was exhilarating. In the background everything from helicopters, techno sound installations and drive by disco bubble machines, to the twittering of birds and delighted children. If that sounds like a little bit of chaos, it was. But the moment the singing begins, that’s all there is.

I plan to turn the KIRTANARAMA banners into prayer beads. Will make a video montage of the chants. And thought I might do some paintings or drawings from the pics. Like all my projects, process is everything. More pics to come.

May your day be filled with the Magic Medicine of singing outdoors in the rain, and the sun, from your heart and soul.



Interesting Imaging (3)

.This patient came with an episode of seizure. He had similar episodes in the past and an intracranial intervention was done but he couldn't be sure what exactly it was..A junior doc found the brain scan strange-looking and interpreted as "?Star effect"..What do you think it is and, what intervention was most likely done?..

Today we sing!

Kirtanarama starts at FIGMENT on Governor’s Island with Robin Renee @ 1pm, Joelle Danant @2pm and Rick Jarow @ 3pm.

I’m keeping my fingers crossed for a day of sunshine and no rain. Weather, like everything, changes. The weekend forecast is thunderstorms. I am trying to hold neither too tightly nor too loosely to my desires for clear skies, with minimal downpours.

From the get go, KIRTANARAMA has been a “neither too loosely nor too tightly” project for me. I’m not a concert organizer, and never thought of it as such. My intention was to create a sudden community under the trees instead of starry skies, around the fire in our hearts and souls instead of a campfire.

I had a conversation with founder David Koren, early on at one of the FIGMENT meet and greets, about how one creates community and collaboration around art – around anything. One needs to create enough form, structure and definition to hold the idea, to create a sure container, and enough freedom and lack of confinement to leave people room to participate in their own way, to be a part of something larger.

I like the sound of that. And I’m an idealist. The reality isn’t so easy. People take convincing. And schedules aren’t as forgiving as one might wish. Everybody is busy. And our priorities are our own. So it’s even more of a surprise and delight when things eventually come together.

Project management isn’t really my forte. But I’m learning. Stretching out of comfort zones is good. Knowing what it takes to pull something like this together, gives me an even greater appreciation for those who organize and manage people and projects of all shapes and sizes.

And today, like every day, I am human. I have to keep reminding myself. It’s all about the process.

Not So Quick Catch Up

I’m not sure it’s possible to catch up these days. Sure we get caught up in all sorts of things. But the idea of being all caught up - everything in place, all sorted out, under control – seems impossible.
Is it just me? Or have you given up on the idea of ever clearing out your email inbox, too?

There is always too much to do. Everything happens at once. I sometimes stay at home rather than try to sort out which invitation to accept or event to attend. A friend and colleague calls it choice management vs. time management. But having too many choices is worse than not having enough, for me.

And that is what life has been like the last month or more. My last blog entry was about how I get so much done. I was feeling quite pleased with myself. The whirlwind can be quite compelling, seductive, self satisfying.

Then suddenly, it isn’t.

One longs for definitive beginnings, middles and ends. Before and after pictures of the bramble of blackberry and wild rose that is still a wild garden but a touch less unruly. The foresight to have protected the emerging romaine from midnight snacking deer. The endless question turning over and over in my head as I wheel another load : why did it take 20 years to figure out that the perfect place for all these leaves was the languishing perennial bed now flourishing with poison ivy and broom?

And so it goes. Results take time. And longer often, for someone like me, who has a hard time hiring others to do the work, partly for lack of resources, and partly from having grown up in a do-it-yourself home. Having to do things oneself, one’s own way, is both a blessing and curse, of course.

In some ways, it is the way of a child. The way we learn to walk, to talk. But it is also a mindful Buddist way, I realize as I write. The way of direct experience.

This is why it took 20 years to begin solving the problem of the perennial bed’s demise. This is the first time I’ve had enough time to actually be out in the yard for extended periods of time, and allow the answers to emerge like the small maple saplings that sprout up each spring. Suddenly, surprisingly it seems. But in truth, they’ve been taking root for a number of seasons, safe beneath the periwinkle, ivy and ferns.

And so, all these years of haphazard garden experiments, irregular attention and nature’s own spontaneous ways have been rooting. And may possibly leaf and bloom. The yard may yet be less an eyesore. I see small improvements. Progress becomes apparent in what’s missing. Like an ache that no longer exists, relieved at last, but difficult now to remember.

Which is not unlike the experience I had talking with D.W. Gibson for NOT WORKING, his oral history project. Here’s a quick overview of the project from DW’s interview request:

My end goal is to provide a book length oral history for this period of sustained and widespread unemployment. In 1972, Studs Terkel published WORKING, a book that captures the oral history of what people do all day and how they feel about what they do. NOT WORKING will provide the names an faces, the pulse of the Great American Recession.
I was definitely digging around in yet another old garden bed, full of poison ivy and rose thorns, when talking about how I lost my job last year. Recounting the actual events of the day, brought up unexpected anxiety and even some tears. But it also seemed like it happened so long ago, to a completely different person.

I have redefined myself in the last year. And continue to do so. I am experimenting and exploring new ways of being in the world. Stretching is good for body and being.

So is finding out we’ve inspired someone. I got a lovely note from Jim Caufield who attended my workshop Creativity: The Magic, Mystery and Mayhem, sponsored by the Orange County Arts Council at the Kurt Seligmann property in Sugar Loaf, NY back in March. He connected with the toilet paper tube rattles in my book Magic Medicine: Rx for Creativity. Here's how he made them into magical rattle wands.

Jim and his wife Mary are a part of the ever growing Woodlanders community. We’re meeting in Warwick, NY August 19 to 21st, 2011, as always, giftedly guided by Woodlander extraordinaire and founder Daniel Mack.

What else is new/s? KIRTANARAMA! My project for FIGMENT on Governor’s Island this year is a 3 day global chant experience. Come sing with us. Sara Neufeld wrote and YOGA CITY NYC published a lovely article here.

May the Magic Medicine of roses and thorns, poison ivy and peonies delight and surprise you in the gardens of your life.