Yesterday morning, I made my annual trek to Greenbelt Lake to take in its spectacular fall foliage. As in years past, the lake did not disappoint.
However, for all of the lake’s breathtaking palette of color, I could not take my eyes off of one lone orange tree in the distance, blazing in singular glory. There it was, all by itself, doing what it did best, which was simply being itself.
Why did I care so much about this tree?
In their book, Art and Fear: Observations on the Perils (and Rewards) of ARTMAKING, David Bayles and Ted Orland explore the way art gets made, the reasons it often doesn’t get made, and the nature of difficulties that cause so many artists to give up along the way. This book had my name written all over it. Yes, I compare myself to others; yes, I’m too old to create art; yes, it’s going to be crap; yada, yada, yada . . . when will I ever learn how to be an artist?
For Bayles and Orland, making art is NOT about looking outward, but looking inward: “The only work really worth doing — the only work you can do convincingly — is the work that focuses on the things you care about. To not focus on those issues is to deny the constants in your life.”
At the top of a journal page, I wrote: WHAT DO I CARE ABOUT? Instantaneously this word appeared: BEAUTY. I care about beauty. Why else am I out in the middle of a farmland field before dawn with an iPhone 14 Pro? Why else is my home filled with hundreds of original works of art? Why else am I surrounded by such generous and wondrous beloveds? BEAUTY.
“To make art,” write Bayles and Orland, “is to sing with the human voice. To do this you must first learn that the only voice you need is the voice you already have . . . your art does not arrive miraculously from the darkness, but is made uneventfully in the light.”
Is this why I cared so much about that orange tree in the distance? Because it was proudly showing off the only voice it had despite the seemingly silent trees surrounding it? Was this tree a kindred spirit?
I’d like to think this tree WAS a kindred spirit. Soon, its leaves will float effortlessly away, but they will be back. The tree will produce again. Listen to this flaming orange maple: Whatever you have is exactly what you need to produce your best work. Art is all about starting again.
So, my brilliant, patience, brave tree . . . let’s start again.
I concluded the journal entry that began “WHAT DO I CARE ABOUT?”, with these lines from Adrienne Rich’s poem, “Incipience” (from her poetry collection, Diving Into the Wreck):
Nothing can be done
but by inches. I write out my life
hour by hour word by word . . .
Bravo.
Brilliant.
Exactly
Go girl.
Thank.
YOU!
I absolutely love this: “… art does not arrive miraculously in the darkness, but is made uneventfully in the light.” Not magic. Just what looks like courage and uncertainty and determination and flailing around – because it is.
You are amazing. I learn so much just listening to you. I don’t chase visual beauty but I live in a space populated by energies-emotions-thoughts in and between and among beings who are flawed and amazing and awful and perfect. And also beautiful. I love getting a glimpse of your world.
“I live in a space populated by energies-emotions-thoughts in and between and among beings who are flawed and amazing and awful and perfect.”
Wow, Neola — if that ain’t a beautiful (and completely accurate) assessment of the artful life, I don’t know what is. I love this glimpse of your world which is spacious enough for the both of us and then some. xoxo
Please keep proudly showing off your voice. We’re listening! And watching. Your love of beauty shines in your magnificent photography, and we watchers are so grateful for your eye and soul that searches out, finds, and shines the beauty you discover.
Thank you, Carol. My love of beauty has been nurtured by Mother Nature, the humanities and beloveds like you who recognize it. I follow the path of beauty as best I can and sometimes it’s very hard to keep up! I still see it when I shut my eyes! xoxo
WOW! I love everything about this post. Your words and photos are all a part of the beauty you create and share with us. This post is positively inspirational, too. Thank you.
A wise teacher of mine once said, “Talent is a well you tap with your effort,” and I think it’s true. We all have the ability to create, but not without effort.
Your own art (in all its forms) has inspired me over and over and over. Thank you. 🙏❤️