1. look at the interface between contemporary art practice and contemporary spiritual practice.
2. include some interactive and experiential Play Posts ( I call them EXPERIENCES) that will hopefully be fun, inspirational, provocative and awareness-raising for those involved in spiritual and/or artistic practices.
3. be updated bi-WEEKLY with new posts. Some are Interactive Experiences that may take about 10 – 15 minutes to play. However, there is a lot going on in each Experience, so feel free to come back to play again.
   
4. be an opportunity for connecting with others with similar interests. Please leave comments each time you visit.
5. hopefully include art work and/or post by guest posters.
6. probably include some shameless self-promotion on my part but, will also serve as a “point of practice in my Zen studies with John Jiyu Gage Sensei (see the ABOUT page); he and I will meet to discuss each post.
7. not necessarily MAKE SENSE so just jump in and “go with the flow”. If posts occasionally sound “preachy” or “teachy”, it’s probably because I am writing about something I know I need to pay attention to and practice myself.

Anyone who has visited The Vista Zen Center has seen Linda’s art hanging on the wall and if lucky have run into the artist herself. Unfortunately, Linda, whose Dhrama name is Seido, lives near Boise Idaho and only visits us during Sesshins. She became interested in Zen several years ago while doing research for a book and began sitting with a local group in Boise. One member of the group, Kathleen Rose was a student of Jakes and Seido met Jake on one of his trips to the Boise area. I asked Seido to give me a brief biography with the intention of pulling out relevant pieces of information to write this introduction. However, I found her personal history to be so fascinating and well written that I have decided to print it as an appendix at the end of this interview. I strongly suggest that you read it after the interview as it will provide some additional insight into this creative soul. So, on with the interview.

Manoj: I know that you’ve been doing art/craft projects for a while. How would you say that your art has changed since you started your Zen practice?
Seido: I spent years embellishing or translating others’ art/craft ideas. As an example, dolls. I have always loved making dolls, especially soft dolls (cloth), and designing clothing for dolls. But in the past, most of those dolls were designed by other people, with a few details or embellishments that were mine. I made them to please others. They didn’t express “me”, but what someone else thought they were or wanted to be. The dolls were simply “cute” or “pretty” or “traditional girls’ dolls”. I often thought about doing “character” dolls, but never did . After all, everyone wanted pretty dolls.

Manoj: How would you say that your art has changed since you started your Zen practice?

Seido: Before Zen, I really didn’t attempt to make anything I did say much about me or my thoughts or feelings. They were just good workmanship and my taste in colors and detail. Sometimes even that was chosen by the recipient.

Since I started my Zen practice, more and more of my art is completely my expression of the me of the moment. The first book I made, Jake’s, was made very early in my practice but it shows signs of the change in my work. The opening doors really are significant. But it uses others’ art extensively to express my thoughts. I still use pieces produced by others in some pieces, less often, and only as components of my work.

Manoj: Could you explain what you mean when you say that your art is an expression of you in the moment?

Seido: When a project dances before my mind it represents me at that time. The piece usually remains as I first envisioned it, with some refinements that reflect how I changed from the time of conception until completion. As I look at the past three years the things I’ve made definitely show stages of Practice, each one displaying a new puzzle or a new kind of understanding.
Manoj: Could you pick one of your recent pieces that illustrates this?

Seido: Oh, yes. The Prisoner/Princess is the latest and the best so far. She may be less impressive than some of the other pieces I have done, but she is definitely an expression of “me” at the time of her conception.
Prisoner/Princess

I had been working on a koan, “the first wall”. I had had dreams about it. I wrote poetry about it. I wrote a very short story about it. Still it didn’t seem “finished.“ Then the Princess swirled into my mind.

The Princess suggests many of the questions I had been brought to ask myself. Like me, and so many others, she is walled into her “crystal” tower, looking outward, at what? Is what she sees only in her mind? Does she have any knowledge of reality? Or does she see only what she expects to see? Is she even aware of the “crystal tower”?

At first glance, the Princess appears to be a doll, but in truth she is a rough approximation of a doll. She is not the “Princess” she appears to be, but is an illusion of regal beauty. I, on the other hand, am truly a person. I am the person others see. But I am sometimes not the person I think I am. Unlike the unfortunate Princess who is forever caged within her Crystal Tower, I am not condemned to stare helplessly at my unreal world. My creation; unfinished, unrefined, unknowing, is in some ways an exaggeration of the creator. Crazy, maybe. But not dishonest. Definitely me in some ways. And now it is “finished.”

Manoj, So, “the prisoner/princess” was a reaction to a formal koan given to you by Jake Sensei?

Seido: Yes. Even after I had the answer, I just couldn’t drop it, until I did the prisoner/princess. Somehow she is the final step. For me she illustrates the koan.

Manoj. I know that Loori in his book The Zen of Creativity, talks about “art koans” as questions that come up during the creative process or from the art object itself. Have any of your recent projects presented themselves as koans in this sense?

Charlie’s Walk

Seido: (Giggle.) Charlie’s Walk. This piece began its life as soon as I read the old Chinese story about a Zen Student called Tung-shan Lin-chieh (Charlie) leaving his Teacher. As he did he asked the Teacher, “How should I describe your dharma if someone asks me about it after you have passed away?” He was told, “Just say, ‘Just that, that!’ “ (In another version he is told, “I am there. There!“ ) Charlie didn’t understand what his Teacher meant. As he walked on his pilgrimage, he waded across a stream. Mid-stream, seeing his reflection, he experienced profound enlightenment. I can identify with Charlie, at least at the beginning of his pilgrimage.
Charlie’s Walk progressed in the same way as most of my pieces: Something I see, hear, or read sparks an idea, usually vague and without definite form. I’m an observer while it circulates in my head and sometimes in my dreams’ “warping” into a shape. After days or weeks, when an image has formed in my head and finally stops changing, it is time for me to put it on paper, with enough detail so that I can remember how it should look. That’s when I decide what medium I think will express the feeling and idea best. I like to work in many different mediums, sometimes putting several together, sometimes using only one or two for a piece. There are so many beautiful things to use to express an idea and I want to feel free to use any of them. I’m just not interested in perfecting my technique, in any one medium. For Charlie’s Walk I wanted the mood to be the important part of the work, so I wanted a “formal”, yet almost sketchy look. Fabric cuts mounted on fabric in panels seemed to give the look I wanted. At this point the “painting” asserted its nature. Charlie wanted to walk from right to left. I even got my sister, a traditional artist (oils) to try to get him to move left to right. No way! Neither of us understand, but I just have to let him walk as he will. I will walk with him, while each of us looks at our own reflection, trying to understand his teacher’s dharma.
It doesn’t matter what mediums I use, or what story I’m telling. The search is always to understand the central questions: “Why and what?” Why am I here? Why am as I am? Why does this subject touch me? Why do I think this, or that? What am I? What do I really want? What is in my reflection? What happens next?
My art is painting with unusual “pigments” and like “painting” is another way of thinking and of meditating. Each piece is the product of my own mind and so tells both the viewer and me something about the real “me”. So art, like the Practice, is the study of my self.

Manoj; People at the Vista Zen Center have marveled at the various wall-hangings that have been on display there. Could you comment on how these have been related to your Zen practice?

Seido: I still find it hard to believe that people really like what I do but so happy that they do.

Manoj: Let me stop you there for a moment. I think that most of us who engage in the creation of art, have insecurities about how our work will be viewed. I remember once challenging a statement you made to the effect that you didn’t think you were a “real” artist. Could you say something about how you have worked with the issues that come up when you start putting your creations out there for a wider audience and people start to see you as an artist?

Seido: Oh, yes, I remember that conversation! Almost everyone has been very kind to me, but there are always a few who offer their “honest” opinions. The approach I use is to remind myself of a few facts. First, my art is my attempt to understand something. It isn‘t commercial so it‘s primary purpose is not to please. I do hope those who see it will like it, but I can live with their dislike for a piece. I just hope each piece will say something to those who see it.
The second fact is that it is impossible to please everyone.
And, if that doesn’t put things in the proper perspective, I have a great memory to fall back on. I received a card from some body I met in California. On the card he called me a “life artist”. I hold his opinions in high esteem, so…..I am an artist. End of discussion!
Sometimes, when a viewer doesn’t realize he is talking to the artist, and he gets very critical of the work, it is so easy to get discouraged or hurt. I am learning to remind myself that not only is he entitled to his opinion, but we are back to that core Koan, “Who am I?” Who is being criticized ? A little time thinking on these questions usually takes the sting from the critique.

I suppose the issue that most often arises is whether my wall hangings are “art” or “craft”. I used to be insulted when my work was referred to as “craft” but when you get right down to it, does it matter? Some master craftsmen are commonly called “great artists”.
I think of the wall hangings as art. I paint with yarn and fabric on mesh rather than on canvas with oil or acrylic pigments, or I collage the work of others to make something unique, something that is mine. It’s still painting. But, again, does it really matter? After all, the point is to come to a greater understanding than before doing the “painting”.

Manoj: OK, back to the original question about how some of your wall hangings are related to your Zen practice.

Seido: Each wall hanging, like most of my work since I started Zen practice, deepens my understanding of some aspect of the Practice and of myself. Inside Linda, and the rakusu began with a koan, raised questions as I worked on the ideas, and left me with koans.

INSIDE LINDA

”Inside Linda” began to come to life after I asked myself, “Who am I, really?” The wall hanging developed, page after page, as I looked for the answer to that question. Why a Japanese kimono? Maybe because I have been fascinated by Japanese women since I was a girl. Why? Why the subjects of each page? These are subjects important to me. Why? And in the end, when you have peeled away layer after layer, there is nothing left but opinion: mine, culture’s, and those of people who know me. I am left still trying to decipher my opinions about each subject, and wondering why I feel so “tangible” when I am absolutely certain that I am not. And the endless koan for me: How many of the words did I choose, and how many of the words chose me? How many illustrations did I choose, how many chose me? I still don’t know.

THE RAKUSU

”The Rakusu” is special. I was preparing for jukai (Ceremony initiating one as a lay Buddhist) and recovering from foot surgery complications. I had studied the jukai booklet and a few other articles about jukai, but I still had to tie everything together in my own head. The koan that began the rakusu was this: How do all the pieces fit together? And what does jukai have to do with each piece and all of them together? When I began designing the rakusu, as one element of Buddhism after another found its place in the whole, each design element found its place on the rakusu. As my hands worked one stitch after another, I wondered: ”What do the words really mean? What do they mean to my life?” That koan stays with me still and always will.
So, each project presents questions, answers, more questions.

Manoj: Thanks so much Seido. I’m sure that your words and your art works will continue to serve as points of inspiration for lots of Zen students. I can’t wait to see your next creation.

APPENDIX: SEIDO’S BIOGRAPHY

The summer I was six, I got my first “out of family” job. A neighbor woman hired me to wash canning jars. I was paid five cents for each tin washtub I did. That summer I also started my own businesses, for the first time. There were two; one successful. The other nearly got my rear end tanned.
When I graduated for high school, I went to work for the FBI in Washington DC. A year later I joined the Army. (They offered three square meals a day, a dry roof over your head, and other benefits.) As I was hungry, that was too good to resist. My first job in the Army was Mail Clerk, then Company Clerk/Training NCO, and Acting First Sergeant while the real one recuperated from a heart attack. Next, I was personal secretary to the Chief of Finance of Southern Europe. Then I was sent to Officer Candidate School. I was given a commission after sixteen weeks and sent off to be Executive Officer in the largest WAC detachment in the Army. I inherited that detachment a year and a half later (became Company Commander). At this station I also worked with the MP’s Criminal Investigation unit every time they did anything with a woman or a child, picking up victims, interviews, etc. Next I was sent to lead a company in Munich, Germany (a cake walk). Six months of that and it was off to Nurenberg, Germany to replace the School’s Officer and spent the next nine months responsible for all the real property of all the American schools in southwest Germany (25). That was when I got a look at the person I was becoming, and decided it was time to go. Six years playing the Army game was making a hard, demanding, self-centered she-wolf.
I applied for admission to the Little Sisters of the Good Shepherd, a religious order which cared for girls and young women whose only alternative was women’s prison or girl’s reformatory. While there I baby-sat the girls when a “real” sister needed an hour or two off, and I taught crafts and American Literature while I went to college. I knew I didn’t belong there during the first year, but it took another eighteen or so months to convince the Sisters of that.
After the convent, I went back to Idaho, got a job, then a better one with the Post Office, and went on a blind date with the man I married six months later. That was almost forty one years, and a son, ago. During those forty one years I was primarily a wife and mother. When the boy was a teen-ager and did exactly what he wanted regardless, I decided to go back into the labor market. I got a job making onion rings in an onion ring factory. During the following years, I worked as a cook and activities director, a deli manager, a store clerk, a security guard, owner-manager of my own janitorial company for seven years, and a computer assembler.
When Hewlett Packard paid me to leave their little family, I retired, for almost a whole year. Then I started a food mix manufacturing business which I ran for eight years, until my health forced me to sell it and to retire, again.
Retirement lasted about nine months, then I took a seasonal job as a cutting girl in a fabric store, then security guard. Now I’m retired again, this time, I think permanently.

After I sold the food business, I found myself at loose ends. A publisher had invited me to submit another manuscript to them, even though they hadn’t wanted the one I had sent to them. I decided now was a good time. So I began digging through the library stacks, looking for a pseudo military organization on which to base a group of characters in my manuscript. Naturally, I read up on ninjas which took me to samurai which took me to Zen which took me to the web. Eventually I found one practitioner in Idaho who came from a group in Salt Lake City. I contacted him which took me to Kathleen Rose in Boise. I met her, started sitting with that group in Boise, and had a negative experience with the original contact (out of Salt Lake City). Kathleen offered to put me into with contact with Jake. I e-mailed him, then met him when he came to Boise, and the rest is known history.

“Kaliflowers” Digital Painting by Manoj

Recently I purchased a “Dreamthon 500”. If you are not familiar with this machine, it can most easily be described as a “dream transcriber”. Very simply, you hook yourself up to several electrodes leading to the machine and in the morning any dreams you had during the night are transcribed and can be printed out via any ink jet printer. Below is the transcript for a dream I had last week where I found myself serving as a moderator at a symposium on “Zen and Creativity”. The members of the panel discussion consisted of some of the big names in the world of Zen and I remember feeling a bit intimidated as I tried to lead a fruitful discussion on the topic.

Dreamathon Transcription #33, Sept. 27, 2008, 5:15 AM

Manoj: I’m delighted to be here tonight to host such a distinguished panel. This is truly a “dream team”.

Panelists: Mumbling and polite laughter from several participants around the table. (a barely audible “hey Oj, you the Man, “ from one unidentified member).

Manoj: Hey it’s my dream and I can pun if I want to, (breaking into song; “You would pun too, if it happened to you”). Anyway, let’s get started. Throughout the centuries, art and Zen have been intimately connected. I see we have D.T. Suzuki here, the author of Zen and Japanese Culture. Mr. Suzuki, could you give us some insight into this connection between art and Zen as developed in Japan?

D.T. Suzuki: Yes. “The artist’s world is one of free creation, and this can come only from intuitions directly and immediately rising from the isness of things, unhampered by senses and intellect. He creates forms and sounds out of formlessness and soundlessness. To this extent, the artist’s world coincides with that of Zen.”

Jake Sensei: “In general I agree with D.T. but would add that while the creative act may involve times when “the senses and intellect” are momentarily bypassed, the intellect is an essential part of who we are as artists and human beings and that spiritual evolution involves an integration of these faculties.”

Manoj: So would you both agree that at some level the aim of the artist and the Zen practitononer is the same?

D.T.S.: Yes. “ What differentiates Zen from the arts is this: While the artists have to resort to the canvas and brush or mechanical instruments or some other mediums to express themselves, Zen has not need of things external, except ‘the body’ in which the Zen-man is so to speak embodied….the Zen-man transforms his own life into a work of creation..”

Manoj: I assume this applied to “Zen-woman” as well?

D.T.S.: Yes, Yes, of course. I’m sorry I forgot what century it is. But, please let me finish. “While art is art and has its own significance, the Japanese make use of it by turning it into an opportunity for their spiritual development.”

Jake Sensei: “I would say that for the awakened person art and spiritual development are not separate.”

Manoj: So, along with Zazen and the various other traditional practices associated with Zen, creative pursuits can be considered a Zen practice.

How does this work?

Jake Sensei: “ By encouraging the student to practice out of his/her own natural aptitudes, the teacher is supporting both the student’s growth and the gift that students offer the world through their creative endeavors.”

John Daido Loori: “I first made a personal connection between art and Zen practices when I was asked by Maezumi Roshi to create color photographs for his book The Way of Everyday Life, which consisted of his commentaries on Dogen’s “Genjokoan”.

Manoj: Well, photographers frequently provide pictures for books and magazines and this is not usually considered a spiritual practice. What was different in this case?

Loori: “These pictures needed to go beyond simple illustration of passages and bring the teachings to life in a visual way. Isn’t this what Hakuin and Soen did in their brush paintings? Can a photograph reveal the inexpressible aspects of the teachings of Zen in a visual way? These questions became my work in the fact-to-face meetings with my teacher.”

Manoj: So your work on this project led to issues or questions that were central to your overall Zen practice and were the source of discussions with your teacher?

Loori: Yes, “As our work with the creative process evolves and we see how creativity extends beyond art into our lives, we may notice barriers that keep us from seeing in a way that’s unhindered by ideas of attitudes. These barriers pop up as we struggle to find equanimity in our art and day-to-day activities.”

Manoj: This talk of “barriers” and “struggle” doesn’t sound like much fun. Isn’t creating supposed to be fun? A lot of people say they do their art because it is “therapeutic” or “meditative for them. They talk about “flowing” or “Being in the Zone” through their creative pursuits. Is this how art supports Zen practice?

Jake Sensei: “Art is not always ‘fun’ by my definition. It can be, but it also may be the necessary avenue for a person or Zen student to express his own dissatisfaction with the world or specific life events. That’s not always ‘fun’.”

Ezra Bayda: I’d agree with Jake. “I’ve been ‘absorbed’ in a movie, been ‘in the zone’ as an athlete, at one with chopping carrots, where there is no separation between you and the carrots. It’s true that there was no sense of self, but the “no-self” experience, when we’re absorbed in activity, can also be a form of what is often described as ‘waking sleep’. At best, it’s an experience of absorption or concentration. There’s nothing wrong with these states of mind; in fact, they can foster the enjoyment of artistic creation or athletic performance. However, we can experience these states and still not be truly awake. “

Manoj: So what does it mean to be “truly awake”?

Bayda: “ I find it helpful to think of “awakeness” in terms of a continuum. At one end is “waking sleep and the realization that we are asleep often prompts one to move to the next stage which is the concentration mode. Then comes mindfulness. Both cases, are limited forms. “As we increasingly understand that practice is not just about nice states of mind induced by concentration or absorption, nor just about freeing ourselves from our personal psychological conditioning, we may move along the continuum of awareness to what is often referred to as wide open awareness”.

Jake: This is the “no point of reference” or “no separation of Shikantaza or “just sitting” practice.

Manoj: So is this wide open awareness basically the same as what we have been referring to as “no mind”, “beginner’s mind”?

Bayda. Yes. “There is a very particular sense of being – a visceral experience of presence- that can be activated by wide open awareness. There is vividness, as if you were here for the first time.” There are still problems etc. but ..”the sense of who we are, the sense of me, with all of my stories, loses its substantiality, its heaviness-and when we say “I” there is a knowing that it’s not quite the truth.”

Manoj: So I gather from what Jake, Bayda and Loori have said that while creative activities may be fun or produce “highs”, this is not really the point of incorporating our creative practice into our Zen practice.

Norman Fisher: I agree with that. “ Working with the imagination through art requires discipline. This is developed through an encounter with the materials. At first, you approach art out of passionate personal need to express your inexpressible feelings. But once you wade in, you find that the medium—the words or paint or sounds—is extremely resistant to your self-expression. Things don’t just fall into place.”

Manoj: So the resistance of whatever materials you are working with serve as Genjokoans then?

Norman Fisher: Yes, “you have to grapple with the materials, reshaping yourself to suit them. It turns out that making art is not so much self-expression as a dialogue between what we think we want to express and the materials that seem to have their own demands.”

Jake Sensei: “I think it’s fair to say that when we let go of what we want to express and just let the materials serve as conduits for what is waiting to be expressed, we are creating in a most authentic way. Authenticity is the true expression of the moment; of no interference from a deluded self. The art of the awakened person is truly free in all aspects.”

Manoj: So if one is approaching a creative pursuit as a Zen student, in addition to whatever is being created, one’s self is being re-created in a fashion that is consistent with Zen?

Suzuki: To repeat, “the Zen-man transforms his own life into a work of creation..”

Jake Sensei: “I think it is problematic to say that the person transforms his or herself. I’d reword this to say that the Zen practitioner’s life is transformed when he or she gets out of the way. The Zen artist progresses by letting go through the struggle with the materials mentioned by Norman.”

Norman Fisher: Right. “Engaging in this dialogue moves you to a degree of attentiveness and concentration beyond the private and the personal. …Art practice gives us a path into the rich and unique content of our own lives. I don’t need art to know what I think and feel. But without art, what I think and feel quickly becomes circular, self-centered, and limited. Making or appreciating art gives me a way to start with what I think and feel and then to plunge deeply enough into it that it becomes not only what I think and feel but also what anyone thinks and feels and, even beyond this ,what isn’t thought or felt at all.”

Manoj: So it sounds like art is an integral part of your Zen practice.

Norman Fisher: Well” Zen has probably saved me from myself; poetry has probably saved me from Zen…My lifelong involvement with poetry has kept me sane within a fairly narrow and rigorous life of religious practice.”

Manoj: Could you elaborate?

Fisher: “ We who are engaged in spiritual practice should never forget how painful and destructive such practice may become when our enthusiasm for the truth of whatever tradition we are pursuing becomes exclusive. Not only does narrowness of view cut us off from others who practice and believe differently than we do, it also cuts us off from ourselves.

Art provides a way to discover truth, but not the sort of truth that is handed to us already vetted. Instead, we must find it ourselves anew….We need art as a form of recreation, re-creation of ourselves and our world, a freshening of what goes on day by day in our ordinary living…..”

“Art defamiliarizes the familiar, and thereby makes it new…We can, therefore, approach our daily task with this heightened sense of things, taking care of our homes, our relationships, our communities, and ourselves with attentiveness and love—that is, as if we were artists grappling with our materials.”

Manoj: It sounds like working with creative activities as a part of our Zen Practice requires some degree of commitment so that the ego gets involved and comes up against the inevitable barriers or problems that will arise.

Norman Fisher: “A classical koan presents us with an insoluble problem. The only way to extend ourselves into that problem completely is to stop trying to solve it, in other words, to stop trying to make something of it, and simply to allow it fully to be what it is, which would necessarily mean that we would take it so personally that it would be our life.”

Manoj: So as Loori suggested, art practice really becomes a source of Zen Koans?

Jake: “As I see it our creative practices do engage our egos and because we feel drawn to these practices, they provide wonderful opportunities to examine our egos; to examine who we really are. This is why we refer to these creative practices as “Genjo Practice” at The Vista Zen Center.”

Norman Fisher: “That makes sense to me. “In Genjokoan Dogen points out that we do not need to take on some old saying of the masters in order to confront directly the issue at hand; in fact each moment of our lives, if we would let go of our definitions and protections and illusions, and lean fully into it, begs the question; ‘ What is to be done?’ ‘What is this moment after all?”

“To study Buddhism is to study the self. This means that one looks deeply and honestly at all points at the way in which one’s life actually unfolds- looks, enters, and allows. This is always interesting, always provides a path forward, no matter what it is that arises. That anything arises at all is always miracle enough, whether we like it or not, so there is no judgment or resistance necessary, and even where there is judgment or resistance there is a settling into that with appreciation and awe.”

Jake Sensei: “Life, like Koans, isn’t figured out. It’s lived, hopefully with as much awareness and integrity as possible to provide mirrors for us to learn to move through life with as little suffering as possible.”

Manoj: But, as I understand it Genjo Koans are available every where, in all aspects of one’s daily life. Is there any reason why a Zen student may want to focus on creative activities to extend their practice?

Jake Sensei: “Generally, our creative pursuits are things we do anyway, regardless of whether we are practicing Zen or not. They are things we do because they are expressions of who we are and so there is a degree of commitment to them and we keep doing them even when difficulties come up. So, they are an ideal place to move into in order to extend the awareness developed through Zazen. These activities are important to us in some way we may not be able to express in other fashions. Art for art’s sake is valid.”

Manoj: Anna, you’re a painter and a Zen student. Do you find this to be true.

Anna Douglas: “Painting is an intermediate process between sitting in silence and being fully engaged in daily activities and relationships. When we sit in meditation we are disengaged from the external world of form. When we paint we are engaging with the world of form. We actively interact with our painting. Paintings are like thoughts. They arise moment-to-moment out of the mind, but unlike thoughts they don’t disappear. They arise and remain, inviting response.”

Manoj: And I assume it is through these responses that barriers, and Koans may emerge?

Anna Douglas: “As the painting takes shape before us in color and lines and shapes, we start reacting to it: we make like it and therefore want to protect it; we may hate it and want to destroy it; we almost always try to control it, to make it fit our ideas; or we get busy interpreting its meaning. In sort, all of our reactive tendencies arise in response to lines and shapes and colors. At times I find myself reacting to my painting with as much intensity of feeling as I do to living, breathing people in my life.”

Jake: “Yes, when my works “come alive”, I know I have finished. The koan of that painting has be answered.”

Manoj: And so, how can this lead to the kind of re-creation of the self that Suzuki, Loori and Fisher Jake Sensai talk about?

Anna Douglas: “Miraculously, when I surrender my judgment or concept about how something should look, the magic of painting actually begins. A process of transformation occurs. By accepting what is, not only do I breathe life back into my very being, but the painting also begins to breathe with a vital life of its own, becoming what it wants, not what I want.”

Manoj: So there is a “letting go” happening where you go beyond who you have been up to that point?

Anna Douglas: “ Learning to paint in this way is to experience in an immediate and interactive way what it means to live with “don’t know mind.” The more I paint the less I ‘know’ about my paintings. They seem to come from a place in myself about which I have little conscious knowledge.”

Manoj: And, would you also say that you come to “know” less of your self, a sort of “forgetting the self” to use Dogen’s terms?

Anna Douglas: Yes… “Each painting has the potential—if I can keep letting go—to be a journey into a compelling and unknown world. The boundaries of my being can expand, just as they do in meditation.”

‘It’s only paper and paint,’ I try to remember when I’m caught in a particularly strong reaction to my painting…,So why are we carrying on with our judgments, our need to control, our concepts, our interpretations—all in relation to a very fragile and impermanent piece of paper?…Because that is what the mind does! It does it on the zafu. It does it in life. It does it in relation to paper and paint. Working with the painting is quite simply another way of working with the mind.”

Jake Sensei: “Well said and this is why we emphasis both sitting practice and Genjo practice at The Vista Zen Center.”

Manoj: Earlier Norman Fisher seems to suggest that this process can be activated by those who “appreciate” art as well as those who “make” art. Perhaps this is a good time to look at how this works. Maezumi Roshi wrote a book entitled “Appreciate Your Life”. I’m wondering whether there is any connection between art appreciation and the kind of appreciation that Maezumi is talking about?

Voice in the Distance, Steve……Steve

Manoj: Who is that? Who’s calling me?

Cherie: Wake up Steve, you are going to miss morning practice.

Manoj: Maybe we will have to postpone this issue for another dream. Thank you all for your participation.

Acknowledgements.

As we know, dreams often reflect waking life experiences. The fact that I have read the following books and articles may explain some of the dialogue in this particular dream.

Zen and Japanese Culture by D.T. Suzuki

The Zen of Creativity by John Daido Loori

“Saved from Freezing”, by Norman Fisher; Tricycle, Spring 2005

“The Art of Awareness”, by Ezra Bayda; Shambhala Sun, May 2006

“Painting: Engaging with the World of Form”, by Anna Douglas; Inquiring Mind, Spring 1997

“Do you want to make Something Out of It?” by Norman Fisher; http://www.everydayzen.org/index.php?Itemid=26&task=viewTeaching&topic=Writing+%2F+Art+%2F+Creativity&sort=title&option=com_teaching&id=31

Numerous Interviews with Jake Gage Sensei

]]> http://artandzentoday.com/?feed=rss2&p=156 2 http://artandzentoday.com/?p=126 http://artandzentoday.com/?p=126#comments Fri, 04 Jul 2008 18:03:08 +0000 Steve http://artandzentoday.com/?p=126 Whirled Piece #1, ACRYLIC ON CANVAS, 4FT BY 4FT. BY MANOJ

SEEING THE WHIRLED AS IT IS.

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Please stop it!

Stop What?

Whatever you’re doing.

But, IT’s doing it to me.

Well, then stop IT.

I’m tired of trying to stop IT.

Good. So, stop it already.

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Before reading on, please go back and spend a few moments with the image and the commentary again. Then click on “Read the rest of this entry”.

Ok. Before you read on, take some mental notes about your experience with “Whirled Piece #1. What feelings or sensations did you experience? What do you make of the comments below the image?

The design for “Whirled Piece #1″ was derived from a piece by a famous Op Art painter and transformed considerably using PhotoShop. To learn more about Op Art, click HERE and see if you can find the black and white painting that inspired my painting. Careful, it’s easy to get distracted out there in the Whirled Wide Web.

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Although much maligned as being too grimicky, I find many OP Art painting of interest because they can provide what might be called a Zen Moment.

Want to have a Zen Moment right now? Click to start the video below.

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DID YOU KNOW?

Did you know that you don’t have to be in Japan

to have a ZEN MOMENT?

NOW YOU KNOW.

<><><><><>

Here are some phrases I found in Art Forum (5/07) describing how viewers responded to pieces in a recent OP Art exhibit:

1. “assault on vision”

2. “invasion of the physical corpus”

3. “tactile bodily experience”

4. “keenly felt physicality”

5. works caused museum guards to petition to wear sunglasses”

*****

How does this relate to Zen?

In the Zen literature, great value is placed on experiences where you are not caught up in thought but rather are fully aware of your senses, your bodily sesations and feelings. In an article in Tricycle, (Fall 07), Will Johnson argues that an important practice in Zen is to make this heigthened sense of ones body one’s modus operandi. Here are some key quotes:

“Learning how to relax while remaining upright in the sitting posture allows the body’s full range of sensations to come out of hiding and make their existence felt.”

“..if the mind that is ‘lost in thought’ is somehow dependent on my not feeling the sensations of the body, what happens to the mind if I let myself feel the entire body, head to toe, as an unbroken field of sensations?”

Johnson also goes on to say that as we relax into newly available bodily sensations, we often experience painful emotions and feelings that eventually will go away. He suggests that one way to work through these is by regularly sitting in longer meditation retreats.

*****

In Genjo Koan, Dogen says that we can learn and grow from every life situation we face. One way to do this is to observe how we cut ourselves off from the bodily sensations that accompany each event and practice allowing ourselves to fully experience them.

Viewing and being confronted by Op Art can be considered such an opportunity; much like the sound of the weed wacker in the previous Experience.

So called “OP Art” can provide us with an opportunity to play with getting in touch with our bodies. This is really true of any art, but in this kind of art there is no object or even anything to allow projections of objects and so the mind has no stories to tell. If you engage yourself with the art fully, you simply must experience it’s perceptual assault.

Like many situations we confront in the world (Dogen’s “10,000 Dharmas”), we may not particularly like the experience. We considered how this works with sounds in the previous Experience. So what is one to do? What do you usually do in such situations?

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

What did you do with Whirled Piece #1? Did you try to stop it? Were you successful? How? How did your experience with the painting affect your evaluation of it? What did you find yourself saying internally about the painting? Do you think those thoughts kept you from “fully experiencing” the painting?

If so, maybe you want to go back and see if you can let the piece assault your senses without internal commentary on the process. If you meditate regularly, try doing what you usual do to quiet your “internal chatter”.

***********

Please click on the thumbnail image below ( a slightly altered version of Whirled Peace #1)

to make it larger. Spend some time looking at the larger image.

How did this experience compare with your experience of the earlier image? If it was different, why do you think that was? Which of the two was more of “a Zen Moment”?

Are there moments in your everyday life where you try to stop IT to avoid unusual or uncomfortable sensations and end up missing IT, that is, missing the Moment?

If so, then “stop it!”

The chances are, if you focused on the “STOP IT” inserted in the image, you were able to stop the movement of the picture and any uneasy feelings that accompanied it. However, you may want to see if you can just let go and be with that movement without trying to stop IT. How? Try just “playing” with the image. By that, I mean approaching it as a learning experience. Simply noticing and fully experiencing whatever is happening, much as one would do during sitting meditation.

If you have practiced Zazen, try looking at Whirled Piece #1 as you might at the wall in the Zendo; that is “not looking”, not trying to see anything or make anything happen.

The title of Robert Irwin’s biography is Seeing is Forgetting the Name of the Thing One Sees.

*******

In discussing Experience #2 with Jake Sensei, he pointed out to me a whole other way of responding to the efforts to “stop IT”! This alternative – one I hadn’t considered- is entirely consistent with the way one might respond to a Zen Koan. To try it, go back to the Whirled Piece with “STOP IT” inserted in the center. Imagine that your teacher is sitting next to you as you gaze at the computer screen, mouse in hand. He asks you to show him how to “stop it”. For an answer, scroll down.

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ANSWER TO KOAN: click on STOP IT. (Give it a try) This possibility was not planned by me and when Jake Sensei showed it to me, I assumed that this was due to some special powers possessed by the teacher. I since learned that I inadvertently programmed in this possibility.

Alternative Answer; Use the mouse to close the picture, the page or turn off the computer.

Before leaving this post, why not go back to Whirled Piece #1 and spend some time playing with it.

Here are some questions to consider as you play with the image.

What is IT? Where is IT? Who is IT?

Can you “let IT be”?

Can you find peace in the “Whirled”?

Then, please take the time to share your experiences, observations and thoughts in the Reply Box below. Also take the time to read what others had to say.

It’s your turn; “you’re IT”.

************

]]> http://artandzentoday.com/?feed=rss2&p=126 5 http://artandzentoday.com/?p=130 http://artandzentoday.com/?p=130#comments Sat, 21 Jun 2008 19:10:09 +0000 Steve http://artandzentoday.com/?p=130 “The Sound of One Hand Clapping” By Manoj

HEARING THE HERE

It is generally assumed that both the practice of Zen and the practice of art can help a person become more self-aware. How these two practices relate to one another, can be seen in the work of John Cage.

In 1952 Cage, a artist, composer and a student of Zen showcased a composition entitled 4′ 33″, which involved four minutes and 33 seconds of silence. Cage intended for the audience to recognize that the sounds all around them in the environment were as interesting as anything they would hear in a musical performance. Cage was inviting them to listen, in an unfiltered way, to the reality of the moment; the here and now.

Instead, almost everyone in the audience got angry.

Before moving on, click HERE to be taken to our special

ONLINE CONCERT HALL to listen to 4′ 33″

Continue Reading below after visiting THE ONLINE CONCERT HALL.

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WELCOME BACK FROM THE ON LINE CONCERT.

PLEASE CONTINUE READING BELOW.

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I apologize about the trick recording. But, how else could I get you to listen to what is going on around you? I’ll make up for tricking you by providing you a “treat” at the end of this exercise.

If your concert experience was one of exasperation, wondering what was wrong with the recording or why the start button didn’t work you probably have some sympathy for those audience members at the 4′ 33″ performance who were angry. If so, why not try it again? You don’t need to go to need to go to “THE ON LINE CONCERT HALL” to do this. Just simply sit for a few moments and listen to whatever is going on in your own private concert hall.

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——————————————————————————

DID YOU KNOW?

Do you know why there was no applause at the end of the recording of 4′ 33″ you just listened to at The Online Concert Hall? Half of the audience-those who did not “get it”-left before the performance was over. The other half -those who “got it” -were clapping with one hand.

NOW YOU KNOW.

—————————————————————————–

The sense of hearing seems to be a big deal in Zen. The literature is full of stories of students’ enlightenment being triggered by the song of a bird or the croak of a frog. Just to keep things real, let’s forget about the the full enlightenment type of awakenings most often written about in the literature. Rather, let’s focus on those momentary experiences where we emerge from being entranced in our ordinary thoughts to find ourselves aware that we are aware. After all, these “Big Awakenings” followed years of sitting in Zazen practicing with such “mini-awakenings”.

+++++

John Wesick, is a student at The Vista Zen Center and an accomplished poet. In the poem below he hints at the importance of sound in the practice of Zazen.

COUNTING BREATHS, by Jon Wesick

In – one, out – one, in – two, out – two…

Tightness in the chest – dizzy

Always out of breath when counting breaths

Let go of the breath. Just sit.

An evening breeze enters through the open window – cooling.

Robes too hot for summer

Tired of listening to my thoughts

Give the mind a rest.

Listen to the birds instead.

Oh! There it is!

The whine of a gasoline edger

Whzzzz!

(Click HERE to see more poetry by Jon Wesick and read his excellent, short essay on “Zen and Writing”.)

*********

Consider the line in Jon’s poem that reads: “Tired of listening to my thoughts”

This is a wonderful insight because we often forget that thoughts primarily take the form of an “internal dialogue”, (either with ourselves or an imagined other). So, when we are lost in thought we are really listening to that inner discussion and necessarily “tuning” out other sounds that are taking place all around us.

~~~~~~~~~

Imagine what the typical audience member at the 4′ 33″ concert was hearing instead of what was actually going on around them at the time.

~~~~~~~~~~

Most people who have practiced mediation for a while have experienced a temporary awakening from

there own private “thought dream” upon suddenly hearing the caw of a crow or the dog next door barking. Such momentary awakenings bring us into the present moment. They also

provide us with a glimpse of what it might be like to be fully awakened.

——–

“The whine of a gasoline edger” Whzzzz

How often has such a sound led to thoughts like this among meditators?

“Dam, that sound is ruining my meditation.” “I’d like to edge my neighbor’s nose hair with that thing.”

Interestingly, Jon precedes the last line of his poem with “There it is”, as if he was actually looking forward to the “Whzzzz!”

Is this a sound you would welcome during meditation or any other time, for that matter?

Just for the fun of it, let’s see. After you click on the “sound1″ link below, sit back, close your eyes and relax. Yeah, yeah, I know. You probably are skeptical after the trick I played on you earlier. But, this is a real sound and it should start automatically without you having to push the PLAY button on the Radio Player. After listening to the sample several times, scroll down the page and continue. It may take a few seconds for the sound to load.

sound1

————————————————–

What was your reaction to the sound?

Did you really listen or were the effects of the sound tuned out by the sounds of your own mind?

Did you just hear it or could you feel the impact of the sound somewhere in your body?

+++++++

Sound is a vibration and can affect organs other than just the ear drum.

Try the sound sample again, this time feeling the sound rather than hearing it.

Could you feel it? If so, where did you feel it?

What happens to the internal dialogue when you switch to feeling the sound?

————

The sound you heard above was a gasoline weed wacker. Maybe the person

in Jon Wesick’s poem was hearing an electric weed wacker. UMMMM!

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It is pretty well established that listening to music results in relaxation and other health-inducing changes. But, what happens when there is no music? Could you listen to/feel the environmental sounds around you and experience the same results. Jake Sensei calls this “the practice of listening”. This is what Cage apparently wanted to happen to the audience when he performed 4′ 33″.

When Zen students sit in Zazen, a Cage-like performance is always a possibility. Just sitting, being with whatever happens. I’m guessing that had Cage’s audience been trained in Zazen, his performance would have been a complete success.

But, what if it were really really silent, and there were no sounds at all?

Try listening to the natural sounds of your own body. It may take a while to find them, but your own

internal sounds can become the source of a symphony to capture your attention. Try it. This is your “home work” assignment. You can also try it during the “treat” below.

*****

During your performance, who was the composer? Who was the conductor? Who was the performer?

You are the music while the music lasts.

T.S Elliot

_______________________________________________________________________________________

DID YOU KNOW.

Eric Curtis, a student at The Vista Zen Center has created an online Zendo complete with bells and clapper sounds to guide you through mediation cycles of various length. This is an ideal way of bringing the Zendo experience into your own home. Check it out at www.myzendo.com

NOW YOU KNOW!

——————————————————————————–

And now for a reward for playing your way through Post #1 you are in for a Video treat. Click on 4′ 33′ below

and you will be able to see a video of John Cage’s performance. Note that this was not the first performance and that the audience came knowing what to expect. After watching the video, please take the time to add further comments in the Reply Box below, even if you did so at THE ON LINE CONCERT HALL. Remember, if you don’t want your name published simply write in “Anonymous” in the NAME box.

******

You are the music, while the music lasts.

T.S. Elliot

You remember Jerry Seinfeld. He’s the real life comedian who played himself as a comedian named Jerry Seinfeld in the sit-com “Seinfeld” where he pitches a sit-com to a TV network to play himself, Jerry Seinfeld, in a sit-com about nothing. Since the show ended 10 years ago, (can you believe it’s been 10 years?) Seinfeld, despite doing stand-up and a movie, feels that he is doing a whole lot of “nothing”. Presumably he means that because his everyday life is rather ordinary in comparison to the days when he was involved in the sit-com, he feels like he’s not doing anything. So much so that his “doing nothing” has become the subject of his rare stand-up performances.

Here is a part of one routine: “Everybody says to me, “Hey, you don’t do the show any more. What do you do? I’ll tell you what I do; nothing…. Well, let me tell you, doing nothing is not as easy as it looks, because the idea of doing anything, which could easily lead to doing something, would cut into your nothing, and that would force me to have to drop everything.”

Not really that funny, but there may be some wisdom here.

Not long ago, Jake Sensei mentioned to me that he had had the thought that he should tell me to stop painting. This is the same guy who has been encouraging me to incorporate my painting into my Zen practice. He told me that it was just an idea that came to him and that he had no intention of following up on it, but it got me wondering what the heck I would do with myself if I wasn’t painting. Since I don’t really have anything else I am hankering to do, I’m sure that, like Seinfeld, I’d be faced with nothingness. I suppose that from a Zen point of view, having to grapple with that would not be a bad idea. However the Seinfeld routine gave me another way to think about all of this.

What I hear Zen Master Jerry telling me is that regardless of whether I continue painting or not, I can and should let go of the “idea” of doing painting. (Maybe this is what Jake wanted me to ponder.) What Seinfeld seems to be saying is that ideas about how we should be in life undermine the quality of life. Whether it is painting or any other daily activity, thoughts about what you could or should be doing will get in the way of what you are actually doing. Going through the actions of painting are not particularly remarkable and could easily fit Seinfeld’s definition of “doing nothing”. However, to the extent that I get caught up in being “a painter” I risk loosing the joys associated with “just painting”. In the larger scheme of things, this is the “everything” that Seinfeld says he will lose if he lets ideas of “doing something” intrude on his “doing nothing.”

A Zen Saying:

Sit quietly, doing nothing,

Spring comes, and

The grass grows by itself.

]]> http://artandzentoday.com/?feed=rss2&p=104 1 http://artandzentoday.com/?p=132 http://artandzentoday.com/?p=132#comments Wed, 21 May 2008 19:52:57 +0000 Steve http://artandzentoday.com/?p=132

John Cage in Performance

Welcome to an on-line performance of John Cage’s masterpiece 4′ 33″.

The audio volume of this particular performance may not be high, so listen carefully.

DISCLAIMER: Some performances may be slightly shorter or longer than four minutes and 33 seconds and each involves different instrumentation. Thank you for your understanding.

Hit the large PLAY button below. It may take some time for the audio to load so while you are waiting for the concert to begin, sit back, close your eyes and relax. Take in the sounds of the performance.

When your concert is over scroll down to continue.

PLAY BUTTON

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When your concert is over, scroll down below the image.

Sinoscape #1

by Manoj

Before returning to the main post, please take the time to briefly describe your experience of 4′ 33″.

Do this in the “Leave a Reply” box at the bottom of this page. If you do not want your name published with your comments, write “Anonymous” where it asks for your name.

Here are some ideas for replies:

How long did it last?

What “instruments” were involved in your version of 4′ 33″?

Give a critique of your performance.

Be sure to read the comments of others who have visited this site.

“You are the music

while the music lasts.”

T.S. Elliot

Press your browser’s return arrow to go back to the main post

SEATTLE ZEN POEM, by Jon Wesick

Sometimes I sit and watch my thoughts

come and go like clouds in the sky.

When one stays too long,

others gather,

and soon there is a shower.

It rains a lot here,

but last night it was clear,

and I observed the moon and the stars.

*****

COUNTING BREATHS, by Jon Wesick

In – one, out – one, in – two, out – two…

Tightness in the chest – dizzy

Always out of breath when counting breaths

Let go of the breath. Just sit.

An evening breeze enters through the open window – cooling.

Robes too hot for summer

Tired of listening to my thoughts

Give the mind a rest.

Listen to the birds instead.

Oh! There it is!

The whine of a gasoline edger

Whzzzz!

*****

Zen and Writing

Jon Wesick

I practice Zen and write. I’m in good company. Zen practitioners Gary Snyder, Philip Whalen, Jane Hirshfield, and Norman Fischer write (or have written) poetry while Natalie Goldberg, Peter Matthiessen, and Janwillem van de Wetering write prose.

To explain how Zen influences my poetry I need to define what Zen and poetry are. Zen is the Japanese pronunciation of the Sanskrit term, dhyana, which means meditation. As I practice it, meditation is simply the act of being present in the here and now. When meditating I observe my thoughts without trying to repress or grab hold of them. It’s hard to define poetry but the most basic advice for writing it is, “Show. Don’t tell.” That is, present the images and emotions raw without interpretation. Sounds a lot like meditation. Doesn’t it? Accept your thoughts as they are without rationalization and self-justification. In poetry I express my experiences as honestly as I can in the hope of triggering the recognition of something similar in my readers. The highest compliment a reader can give a poem of mine would be to say, “I feel that way, too!”

Fiction is a different discipline. The art of the story depends on conflict and resolution. Stories are hard-wired in the human brain. They’re how we view reality. The problem is that reality isn’t a story. I’ve struggled for years to understand the Buddha’s Second Noble Truth, Suffering’s Cause, and how it manifests in my life. For me suffering arises not so much from craving but from the stories I tell myself that aren’t true. When I work myself into a rage imagining a final showdown with an irritating coworker, I’m telling myself a false story. By writing fiction, I am better able to recognize the author of suffering lifting his pen.

After writing both prose and poetry, I wonder about the difference between them. What is poetry after all? Free verse doesn’t have the meter and rhyme that sets formal poetry apart from prose. Poets often speak about the music of the line. This doesn’t help me as I’m more of a philosopher with a tin ear than a musician when it comes to verse. A poem tends to have looser grammar and more metaphor than prose, but this isn’t all. Sam Hamod says a poem has more to do with feeling than with line number and counting syllables. Perhaps a poem is like pornography. I can’t define it but I know one when I hear one.

I also wonder about the purpose of Zen. What is it about sitting and staring at a wall that’s special? Could you get the same effect by shooting a bow or flying a glider? After years of meditation practice I did not become the invulnerable superman, I wanted to be. I became more myself in a way I can’t quite express. Facing the blank page is like being at a Zen retreat in a room full of gongs and shaved heads and asking, “What am I doing here?” The answer to this question is often to simply do what needs doing, recite the Heart Sutra or write the next sentence.

Friend, what are we doing here? This human life is mysterious. It’s entertaining to speculate on how we got here and why. Unlike many, I believe we may indeed find answers to these questions in time. And still, we need to go to work and care for our loved ones. Let’s get on with it.

END

Jon Wesick is an accomplished poet who has been writing poetry for about 10 years and studying Zen for about 20 years. He is also a member of The Vista Zen Center and was recently asked by Jake Sensei to put together a compilation of some of his more Zen-related poems. This resulted in the printing of “The Deer Park Investigation”, which is available at the Zen Center or from Jon (jwesick@sbcglobal.com).

Seattle Zen Poem and Counting Breaths are short poems from this publication. Jon told me that both of these poems came to him in a flash and, for the most part, he played the role of a scribe. They capture the essence of the Zazen experience and would make excellent “Required Reading” for new Zen students. “Seattle Zen Poem” appeared in Sacred Journey and the North Cascades Buddhist Priory Newsletter. “Counting Breaths” appeared in the Thinking Post Anthology and the TTZC Newsletter.

You can read more of Jon’s work online at www.aphelion-webzine.com and www.asininepoetry.com .

I would encourage other poets or writers to contact me if interested in having their works posted on this site.

]]> http://artandzentoday.com/?feed=rss2&p=99 3 http://artandzentoday.com/?p=90 http://artandzentoday.com/?p=90#comments Tue, 13 May 2008 01:07:08 +0000 Steve http://artandzentoday.com/?p=90 The image above is of one of the ingenious contraptions build by engineer/artist Theo Jensen from The Netherlands. I first became aware of Jensen upon seeing a video of an ad featured in a post written by my brother Jim and my nephew Max on their blog -site, Techimoto. I’d suggest that you go to this site to read the article and see the video before reading on. In the video, Jensen says that the boundaries between engineering and art exist only in our minds. This sound like something a Zen Master would say and is something to be pondered by those who think their interest in science or technology somehow precludes them from being artistic or creative.

All of this came to mind this morning as I read a front page article in the Sunday Los Angles Times (May 11, 2008) devoted to climate researcher Veerabhadran Ramanathan. In 1980, this gentleman co-wrote one of the first scientific articles that said the effects of global warming would be evident by 2000. Since then Ramanathan has toured the globe to conduct experiments and advise world leaders about climate change. He was one of the authors of the 2007 landmark report on global warming for The United Nations. Now he wants to change the world in ways to counteract this warming trend but is finding that world-changing is not easy. His efforts remind me of the artists Cristo and Jeanne-Claude’s efforts to launch The Gates project in New York City.

At age 63, he is still active in research, but is devoting more time and energy to trying to help do something about the climate shifts that he predicted and has documented. His passion is being channeled into what he calls “Project Surya” (surya is Sanskrit for sun). This is an effort to give 3500 solar and other “clean energy” cooking devices to a rural area in the Himalayas where families cook and heat their homes using fires burning dung, wood and other high-polluting materials. After monitoring current levels of pollution, he hopes to see whether switching to “clean energy devices” has a measurable effect on the environment.

The problem is, Ramanathan has not been able to secure the funding necessary to pull off this project from the usual agencies and organizations that should be interested in providing help. Refusing to give up on his dream, he is currently talking to a local business man who is introducing him to philanthropists and to a group of MBA students trying to create a business plan for him. Following his vision, this scientist has had to extend himself beyond the familiar world of labs and government agencies to connect with all sorts of people to make this and other projects work.

A quote in the article from one of Ramanathan’s colleagues got me thinking about how the boundaries between art and science are rather porous. Speaking of Ramanathan’s efforts to fund this monumental project, the college said, “That is an art—the unselfish part of him. This brought to mind the video I had seen several weeks ago about the 25 year effort of artists Cristo and Jeanne-Claude to install 7500 fabric covered gates along 23 miles of sidewalks in Central Park. You can see the first 10 minutes of the video by clinking HERE. Much of this documentary follows the long and discouraging efforts on the part of the artists to convince the powers that be in New York City to allow them to temporarily install, at their own expense, the gates along most of the sidewalks in Central Park.

Prior to viewing the video, I, like others, saw the gates as a rather frivolous project and probably a waste of money. However, viewing what the artists went through to realize their dream and how the city folk responded, I was thoroughly impressed and inspired. While perhaps The Gates is an extreme example, large scale projects that require the artist to search for funding and negotiate bureaucratic and legal restraints is becoming more common today. As with much of what we call performance and conceptual art, the artistry involves skills that are far removed from those needed in the studio. So, I think it fitting that Ramanathan’s college suggests that he is an artist, even though most people, and probably even Ramanathan himself, might not agree.

A month later, I had finished Buddha/Bush, an acrylic painting on board approximately four feet wide and five feet high. I started this painting only with the vague idea of putting Bush’s face on a traditional Buddhist sculpture. Once that was completed, I felt like I wanted to add some text. The quotes on the left read “All beings are Buddha”, “If you meet the Buddha, kill the Buddha” and “That stone Buddha deserves all the birdshit it gets”. It starts off sort of like a syllogism, establishing that even someone like Bush needs to be seen as having Buddha nature. The other two sayings seemed to express my feelings about the man, if taken literally. In the Zen literature, these saying are intended to admonish students from getting too caught up in Buddha-worship instead of finding how to attain their own Buddha nature. Both meaning seemed fitting, in the case of Buddha/Bush.

It was extremely satisfying to express my resentment visually, but both I and the picture felt uncompleted. I was doing a lot of reading about duality at that point and felt like I needed something on the other side (opinion-wise and visually) to provide some balance to the painting. For the right side of the painting I didn’t necessarily something “right wing” to balance out what I suppose could be read as “left-wing” sentiments on the left side of the painting. I went through a whole bunch of Buddhist quotes from various sites on-line but nothing seemed to do the trick. Then I happened upon the Shantideva quote that ended up in the painting.

“Even if it were the nature of the childish to cause harm to other beings, it would still be incorrect to be angry with them, for this would be like begrudging fire for having the nature to burn”. When I first read this, I could not imagine how any one could really think this way, especially as it related to George W. Bush. Yet, after I wrote it on the painting, I realized that Shantideva’s words offered a way out for me. I could still disapprove of Bush, as I might disapprove of a child’s behavior, but I did not have to hold on to my hatred. Childish politicians have been around forever and there is no reason to believe that they won’t continue in the future.

As I thought about it more, I realized that in focusing all my anger towards one man I was exemplifying Ignorance, as defined in Buddhism; that is I was ignoring the fact that no person or entity stands separate from everything else in the world. It was easy to direct my anger towards Bush as single target, but what about the hoards of average Americans who voted for him? What about the advisers who seemed to have an unusual degree of influence with Bush? What about Bill Clinton, whose actions in the Oval Office drove voters away from the democratic party? What about the radical Muslim’s who helped give fuel to the 9/11 tragedy? Following these lines of interconnection, I could end up being be mad at the whole world and I did not want that.

When Jake first suggested taking my pain into my studio, I assumed that if anything would come of it might be because of some cathartic release through painting. Instead I found myself with an alternative way of thinking about things. I don’t mean to suggest that I have fully integrated Shantideva’s enlightened perspective, nor am I now a Bush fan. However, I do enjoy my breakfasts now more than I did before. When I read something that disturbs me, I stop and take a deep breath, remember how everything that happens is interconnected and temporary. Whether or not these events suit my needs, this is what is happening and I have some control over how I react to them.