“We come marvelously equipped into a world offering a cornucopia of things to see, touch, smell, taste and hear, and we come with wiring to dream, remember, imagine,” Peter London writes in “No More Secondhand Art.”
Sometimes we forget how fully equipped we are — and how wondrous the world is. It’s easy to get lost in emails, constantly binging cell phones, inane conversations, day job drama, even self-defeating relationships.
Being more present continues to be my goal — and it’s a constant struggle. Occasionally I find myself texting while walking my dog, I stop, put the phone in my pocket, sigh and notice the bending necks of sunflowers, wilting knee-high daisies, gardens of succulents, strange alien-like plants. You can almost see the summer air lingering, seemingly saying the days are long, life is sweet but short.
I find the best thing has been plunging into my chilly apartment pool. I can’t think of anything but breath, light, temperature and movement.
The lovely poet Aimee Herman tells me that she takes time to stop along her journey and check to make sure all of her parts have shown up with her. I like her concept of inventory of self. What would that include, Aimee? Memories too?
I write to Lily, who now exploring Paris, that I want to be more authentic, spontaneous, brave and original. These are things we could practice daily at the Art Farm — but back in real life, I don’t know how to experiment with that, how to show it, put it into action.
Lily writes, “I think we all need the right context and the right place and the right people to allow those things to come out. You can’t do it in a vacuum.”