Episode One Hundred and Three, Too Wonderful
I do not have the disciplinary nature required to be an artist. I'm too much a traveler of airy dynamics and a devoted commissioner of thought crimes. My earthly pastimes are consumed by the details of maintaining what is necessary for me to survive and thrive spiritually. I do know a few artists, though, and I'm quite in love with all artists and their pursuits. I enjoy looking deep into their process and examining their journeys and supporting their ways. I've seen the muses and I've witnessed the nature of inspiration as it navigates the lives of artists. Sometimes I think I can see what their doing and see what their muses are doing with them. I see it as a dance.
I think of these things when I read Hafiz' small poem about attempting to capture the beauty of what is essential in a life. A potent few words on an epic subject.
Thank you for listening.
Music: This song, Shape of My Heart by the artist, Sting came to mind immediately while writing this post. Sting is recorded as saying that the song is about a gambler that must live a life of chance. While I would never want superimpose a meaning on a creative's enterprise, it invites me to hear it as a song both to and of a muse. It is a design of a process that few of us can really understand. The irony being sometimes a muse or guide must live in the cultivated blind spot of an artist to survive and thrive...much to our enrichment as purveyors of art and, sometimes, to the detriment of the artist. That said, I write from my blind spot to see. So there is that. Guidance is guidance and it shows up however it can for us all.
And if I told you that I loved you
You'd maybe think there's something wrong
I'm not a man of too many faces
Painting by Helen Klebesadel
The original post in this series of poems by Hafiz (including an addendum regarding the authenticity of these poems) can be found here.
The Gift: Poems by Hafiz and translated by Daniel Ladinsky can be purchased here.