Monday, June 30, 2014

The Zen of Creativity

FLIGHT, cold wax and oil, collage 16"x16", by Donna Watson

Note:  Upcoming Workshop.  There are some openings in my upcoming 4 day workshop, 
Sept. 15-18, 2014 in beautiful Coupeville, Whidbey Island, WA for the Pacific NW Art School.
Personal Expression:  A Design Approach is for all mediums and all styles of painting or art creation.
At their website here look for more information or contact me.

SANCTITY, cold wax and oil, collage  18"x18", by Donna Watson

I have read this book, THE ZEN OF CREATIVITY by John Daido Loori, 3 times.  This book taps into the principles of the Zen arts and aesthetic as a means to unlock creativity.  "Well written, wise, insightful...enhanced by fine Zen dialogues and stories, poems, koan, photographs and illustrations as well as apt, stimulating quotations from many writers and Zen teachers."  Peter Matthiessen


The creative process is intuitive, and based on our experiences.  It points us to our essential nature which should be reflected in our artistic work.  As artists, we should always be looking inward to discover our true expression.  To do that we need to quiet our minds, empty our minds, and only be
aware of each moment around us.  Once our minds are empty we are open to new ideas.

                              
All images here are by Donna Watson in her studio

How do you go straight ahead on a narrow mountain pass which has ninety-three curves?
An old Zen Koan


Where the spirit does not work with the hand there is no art.
Leonardo da Vinci


To study the Way is to study the self.
To study the self is to forget the self.
To forget the self is to be enlightened by the ten thousand things.
Eihei Dogen


The inner ---- what is it?  if not intensified sky....
Rainer Maria Rilke


When you look, it is formless;  When you call, it echoes...
Fuyu


No muse appears when invoked, dire need 
Will not rouse her pity.  May Sarton


WHEN I MET MY MUSE by William Stafford

I glanced at her and took my glasses 
off -- they were still singing.  The buzzed
like a locust on the coffee table and then 
ceased.  Her voice belled forth, and the 
sunlight bent.  I felt the ceiling arch, and
knew that nails up there took a new grip 
on whatever they touched.  "I am your own
way of looking at things", she said.  "When
you allow me to live with you, every 
glance at the world around you will be
a sort of salvation."  And I took her hand.