Come In Empty [David’s blog on KS Friday]

“In emptiness alone can there be creation.” ~ Krishnamurti

Horatio reminded me of a fundamental lesson in actor training: come in empty.

The great actor/director James Edmondson once told me that the art of acting is the art of presence. What is presence if not full availability, without need to achieve or to force action or to manipulate anything? Stand empty in a moment, open to all possibilities.

Saul the tai-chi master taught his students to look beyond the “obstacle” and place their eyes in the field of all possibilities. No resistance. No story. No need. More than once he said to me, “Let the energy move you.” Don’t fight. Don’t push. Relax. Empty.

We are cleaning out our home, emptying closets and shelves, and have more than once affirmed to each other that we are opening space to “allow the new to come in”.

Our candlelight walk through the woods was transformative. I stepped onto the path with a very busy, very distressed mind. As we walked my anxiety slipped away. The stars became more important than the thoughts raging in my mind. I quieted. We quieted. The woods came alive – or we – I – came alive in the woods. When I stepped onto the path I was tired. As we completed our second loop, leaving the path, I felt rejuvenated. Enlivened. Empty mind.

As we came around the corner of the Pringle Center on our way back to the car, a row of pine trees caught us. They were glowing. The light cast from the center combined with a crystal clear night made them shimmer. They beckoned. Kerri took their portrait saying, “Photographs can’t capture the light. They don’t do them justice.” She put away the camera and we stood for a moment agog at the glow, enthralled by what we’d passed-by merely an hour before, unnoticed.

Awe. Ever present and available when coming in empty.

HOPE on the album THIS SEASON © 1998 Kerri Sherwood

Kerri’s albums are available on iTunes and streaming on Pandora

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE TREES

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Reflect [on DR Thursday]

This reflection spiraled me into a fond memory. A long ago chance dinner in London with Jonathan Miller. He was kind and funny and took me upstairs to his studio to show me photographs he was readying for a gallery show. I could have talked with him all night. As I left he gave me a copy of his most recent book, On Reflection. Questions of reality and identity in the arts and beyond, explored through reflections. I had the book for years and lost it in a loan.

Reflections. I have crossed paths with many brilliant artists. Some, like Jonathan Miller, a single evening, a passing glance. Others, I had the good fortune to spend many years assisting and watching and learning from their work. James Edmondson. If I ever delude myself into the notion that my artistry is unique and truly individual, I only need stop for a moment and track the people who shaped me, who inspired me, who challenged me, who passed to me their traditions, who gave me an hour of their time to share their work and thoughts with me. I am a reflection of those many, many people.

My work in the world is made better by the reflections of Horatio and David and Master Marsh, people who give me their time by reading my work and sharing their thoughts. People who have jumped into my mad projects and made me and my work better.

I am the luckiest man alive. Each morning I get up early and sit next to my wife. We drink coffee and write. She edits my posts. We read to each other and offer advice or talk about word choices. I take her hand and bring her into my studio and ask, “Will you tell me what you see?” Lately, as I draw in pencil cartoons for work, she digitizes them, dumps them in Photoshop, cleans up my messes and makes them better. She makes suggestions. She offers reflections. She formats them for publication. They are transformed from my work to our work.

And, that is the secret I learned from my many master teachers. A unique perspective, an artist’s eye, is the blossom of many, many wise eyes coming together, expressing through a single moment, an opportunity. It’s all collaboration. Artistry is nothing more than a hologram of reflection.

read Kerri’s blogpost about REFLECTIONS

pax © 2015 david robinson