Impermanence

April 11, 2011April 12, 2011 / Terrill Welch / 22 Comments

I share with you these pears dancing in the light of the sun coming through the window. But they are no longer there. We ate them. They were delicious. The photograph is history like all photographs has captured history.

(image may be viewed and purchased here)

Impermanence is difficult concept to viscerally accept. My limited understanding comes from Buddhist practices but it is an idea that has fascinated me since I was a small child and realized that turning of the earth gave me a glimpse of visually watching the passage of time. In fact, it is fair to say that expression of impermanence is a strong underpinning in most of my paintings and much of my reflective writing. The Buddhist notion of impermanence is that all of conditioned existence, without exception, is in a constant state of flux. Here a section on the subject from wikipedia:

According to the impermanence doctrine, human life embodies this flux in the aging process, the cycle of birth and rebirth (samsara), and in any experience of loss. This is applicable to all beings and their environs including devas (mortal gods). The Buddha taught that because conditioned phenomena are impermanent, attachment to them becomes the cause for future suffering (dukkha).

Conditioned phenomena can also be referred to as compounded, constructed, or fabricated. This is in contrast to the unconditioned, uncompounded and unfabricated nirvana, the reality that knows no change, decay or death.

Impermanence is intimately associated with the doctrine of anatta, according to which things have no fixed nature, essence, or self.

Though I do meditate and go to the odd meditation retreat, I am not a practicing Buddhist. But there are times when I find that the Buddhist doctrine resonates and helps me to live a better life – with less suffering. Such a time is when the hard drive of my computer crashes beyond recovery. Some things were lost. Some things have been found in other places. I wasn’t and I am not particularly worried or grieving about any of these things.

What did strike me in a new way was the concept of impermanence. It was like I had been accumulating this understanding for years and all of a sudden I had a glimpse of it – just for a few days and even then only for a few hours at a time. I was able to experience impermanence beyond what my brain had constructed … it was tangible in the cells of my body, the earthquakes in Japan, David’s stroke, the birth of my grandchildren, the lines on the backs of my hand, and the daffodils in the woods.

(image may be viewed and purchased here)

This wasn’t a sense of peace and ease I was experiencing – I was terrified. My experience of the world, through my five senses, was no more permanent than the passing light between the trees. I was borrowing these experiences and stretching their presence through memory, writing, painting and collecting data on my hard drive. My thoughts go to Atlantis, the Egyptian pyramids, the ancient Greek poet Sappho – all passing moments in time with just a few fragments left visible through story, crumbling earth and fragments of poetry. I grasp that my existence, my being, and my experiences are all expressions of impermanence. For a few moments, okay hours, it was hard not to hyperventilate and go screaming naked through the woods.

But after awhile I concluded, nothing had changed. These things were the same before I looked them squarely in the eye. My knowing did not chance impermanence – only my experience of impermanence.

(image may be viewed and purchased here)

This week I shall work on another painting. I shall do it with conscious awareness of my impermanence and its impermanence.

Sprout question: How does impermanence express itself in your creativity?

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Creative Potager – where imagination rules. Be inspired.

From Mayne Island, British Columbia, Canada

Terrill Welch online Gallery at http://terrillwelchartist.com

Sacred Cycle (musingbymoonlight.com)
The Impermanent and Empty Nature of All Things and Events (mysticmirror.org)
FIR TREE original oil paintings by Terrill Welch (creativepotager.wordpress.com)
John Tropea: Where neuroscience meets buddhism (johntropea.tumblr.com)

Dawn at the Pier

January 13, 2011January 13, 2011 / Terrill Welch / 19 Comments

Well, my underpaintings do not look very promising this week. I may or may not get time to work on them later today. So please don’t have high expectations tomorrow when I post the results. Sometimes creativity is like that. I tell myself there is learning to be had and just keep going. I also look back on other work that has been successful to boost my ability to be brave and bold and take the next step.

For today, I have been thinking about an image that I took early in the morning on New Year’s day. This pier is in Bennett Bay on Mayne Island. I have various images of it but this has to be my favourite. Enjoy.

(image may be purchased here.)

It is a quiet photograph the invites rather than excites. Today this seems just right.

Sprout question: What do you do when your creativity doesn’t meet your expectation?

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Purchase photography at http://www.redbubble.com/people/terrillwelch

Creative Potager – where imagination rules. Be inspired.

From Mayne Island, British Columbia, Canada

A moment with Frank Jordan

October 25, 2010October 26, 2010 / Terrill Welch / 20 Comments

After his daughter found my book and letters he was keeping, I was notified today that a special friend, Frank Jordan, died last Sunday. He was 90 years old. He lived a full life! I will miss him. He has had such a powerful influence on me. It was so nice of his daughter to phone. She asked if she could keep his book and the letters I had authored. I said “yes” surprised that she asked but happy to reassure her that yes she should keep them.

Some people I connect with deeply, regardless of age or gender. Frank Jordan was one of those people. He loved life even with its tears but mostly he found its joy, love and wonder. Others might miss it – not him. I know he was at peace with his life because he told me so the last time we spoke on telephone in the early summer. I know he will meet his tomorrow with enthusiasm.

Here is a passage from my book Leading Raspberry Jam Visions: Women’s Way about the man of whom I speak….

[Frank Jordan] is a personal mentor I have been honoured to have in my life since childhood. For me his life represents a high measure of success. You will not find his poetry and wisdom in university libraries but you may find it published on the placemats in small restaurants in the region in which he lives. You will not find his wealth ranked amongst the top 25 families in Canada, nor will you even find him given recognition for his wealth within his own small community. His paid career work ranged from jobs such as driving a school bus to janitorial work. His volunteer work ranged from voluntary ambulance attendant to knitting blankets for the hospital auxiliary and the local transition house for women leaving abusive relationships. He does not own his own home or many other material goods.

Are you beginning to question why I feel this individual is successful?

Frank Jordan is successful because he knows how to love. He knows how to love unconditionally and expressively in every day and in every moment. He goes by many endearing nicknames that are used by his whole community, not just his immediate family. To be in conversation with this man is to know your own humble humanity and to walk away hugging yourself – and the whole world at the same time. He has a gift that is rare and valuable. His gift is complete appreciation for life and living. Most recently, we were engaged in conversation as I walked out with him to his car, and he told me how he used his ‘little helper’ (as he shook the cane used to steady his 83-year-old stride) on days like today – days where he was required to be on his feet for several hours. He told me how blessed he was, because he could still drive during daylight hours. As I stood with him, shivering beside his car, he continued to count his blessings and tell me important stories that he knew I needed to hear. I listened intently, appreciating his calm, confidence as he said “you know god loves me so much that I just can’t help myself! I have to spread it around!” His face is lit with the excitement of his conviction, and even from my rather non-committal stance, I would be hard-pressed to deny the existence of his god or his love.

Then with equal importance he continues to tell me how his wife, who is several years older, has not being doing so well. His face is transformed by the sadness of his thoughts. Then he gives his head a little shake and looks up at me before continuing: “most recently she had been having a particularly bad day, and was in tears trying to get dressed, because she was unable at that time to dress or undress herself.” At this point in his story, his eyes start to squint with pleasure: “well, I went over and gently helped her, as I laid out my own complaint – I said, ‘well woman, you know I love you dearly, and I do not mind helping you take your clothes off at night, but it seems rather cruel to ask me to help you put them back on in the morning!’” He described how her tears gave way to laughter as she called him “an old fool,” and blushed from his continued life-long pleasure in her.

His living is an immediate gift, and his stories of living are a continuing gift that offers up a picture of infinite success, in their telling and retelling. Yet, to acknowledge his success (since it fails to fit the acknowledged and typical definition we as a culture have allowed ourselves to accept), it must be carefully and explicitly stated and justified. He has touched and influenced countless lives in his daily practice of joy, recognition and love. I have unquestioning confidence in the huge worth of the rippling effect of his life’s work, in giving and receiving. The consequence of his influence in my life alone has allowed me to have hope in the darkest moments, to believe in my abilities, to forgive myself when I fall short of my expectations, and to have total fascination and delight in people and in living. He chose to accept and embrace the paid work available to him, and to excel in using these positions to fulfill his true mission in life, which was to minister to those he met in his everyday interactions.

My challenge for us is to question all measures attributed to success – not just those that are beyond the quick and easy definition provided by wealth and position. I ask that we embrace the multiplicity of success, and carefully explore and articulate what we believe is success in a particular situation, and also what consequences result from that success. For me, success is not about getting it right and sailing to the finish line of life. Success is about allowing your persistence to sail your vision through every day… while the breeze of your passion and potential charts your course. (pages 75-77)

I have no pictures of him… isn’t that strange? To have been friends since I was fourteen years old and no photographs? I have never felt I needed any – today is no exception. I can see Uncle Frank anytime I want, by sitting with my heart open, smiling at what the day has to offer.

Sprout question: How might you describe your creative success?

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Purchase photography at http://www.redbubble.com/people/terrillwelch

Creative Potager – where imagination rules. Be inspired.

From Mayne Island, British Columbia, Canada

The Sustaining Rosehip

September 16, 2010 / Terrill Welch / 6 Comments

The last few posts here on Creative Potager have been about the end of life – a necessary reflection in our creative and life journey, but not a place to dwell.

Today I want to shift us towards sustaining. What sustains us until the time of renewal? In the seasons the time of renewal is spring. The rosehip has always been a sustaining symbol and resource for me through fall and winter. When I was young, we were told we could eat rosehips if we got lost in the woods. My mother made apple-rosehip butter for a special treat on our hot porridge or toast. While playing outside, we would peel the rosehip skin off and nibble it sometimes pretending we were eating a piece of the sun, leaving the pithy insides for the mice and birds.

The nutritional and health attributes of rosehips are well known. They are used to make teas for the immune system and oils for the skin – just to name a few ways it is employed. So, when I see rosehips, I am filled with a “we can do it” attitude. I almost always smile and I sometimes laugh aloud when I see them. I feel hopeful. I feel able to reach into my stored reserves and snatch a piece of possibility right off one of those thorny branches.

Sprout Question: What sustains your creativity until a time of renewal?

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Creative Potager – where imagination rules. Be inspired.

From Mayne Island, British Columbia, Canada

August Mist

August 10, 2010August 10, 2010 / Terrill Welch / 10 Comments

Today, Tuesday August 10^th, is one year since David had his stroke. He has almost completely recovered – so much so that you may not notice the difference from before and after. There are little things he is still working on. But aren’t we all? I give thanks for the continued gift of his company, his love and his full engagement in life.

Sunday. I walk alone.

Through the mist flies a great blue heron over the quiet sea. Time reaches into infinity and wraps us in the moment…

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A driftwood stump waits for the next tide to continue its journey. Fog and misty rain keeps us both company.

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Meditative careful steps along the shore as hushed resilience springs forth.

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It is morning, in the misty rain on the west coast of Canada.

Low tide.

Humid.

August.

Sunday.

Sprout Question: What are you noticing today?

Note: Creative Potager has a new page Artist Biography and yesterday I posted an announcement for my solo exhibition “SEA, LAND AND TIME.” Please share both as appropriate.

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Purchase photography at http://www.redbubble.com/people/terrillwelch

Creative Potager – where imagination rules. Be inspired.

From Mayne Island, British Columbia, Canada

Far Shore oil painting

May 6, 2010December 5, 2010 / Terrill Welch / 24 Comments

18X24″ by 1 3/4″ water miscible oil painting on 100% natural cotton canvas

I worked on this west coast painting much of yesterday afternoon and into the early evening. At one point I move out onto the covered deck because the natural light had faded in my loft studio. I believe it is to the “tweaking” stage or almost or maybe even completely finished. It is resting now and I will begin another while it lingers in the great room as the day’s light passes overhead. I will peer at it every now and then with a critical eye. At a later point I will take another photo for my redbubble account.

As I was working I mused on a couple of ideas. The first is something my son said when we were talking about song writing. He commented on how sometimes it is best to leave a song and start a new one that will be better rather than try to fix one that is not working. I think this is true for most creative work. Our learning is cumulative. With a certain amount of detachment, we take the work as far as we can, then release it and start again. Drawings in sand, ice sculptures and cake decorating come to mind as ways we can make marks and practice creative detachment.

Speaking of making marks, this is something humans have been doing for a long time. These markings are telling not only of our present but of our past and our imagined future. There is a collective bandwidth of creativity with most creative work gathered around the centre and much less work being created along the margins or fringes. The great work of the fringes will sometimes move to the centre of the bandwidth and new work will develop along the margins. William Blake , Claude Monet, Walt Whitman come to mind as well-known artist who worked in the margins of their time and yet held our attention until their work became accepted and even revered, at which point their creative views and style moved into the centre of the creative bandwidth. This process of margin to centre has always fascinated me because some work just falls off the margins and disappears while other creative work is shuffled into the centre. Most of us work comfortably in the full rich stream of the centre. Only some of us are compelled to work in the margins. Work in the margins is often recognizable by the name calling – bad art, lacking technique, improper, breaking the rules and shocking.

Sprout Question: Where would you place your work on the current bandwidth of creativity?

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Purchase photography at http://www.redbubble.com/people/terrillwelch

Creative Potager – where imagination rules. Be inspired.

From Mayne Island, British Columbia, Canada

A Study

April 21, 2010April 23, 2010 / Terrill Welch / 13 Comments

After yesterdays eclectic group of photos, today is a sparse offering.

These lovely little canvas prints from my East Point Images I shared with you in February the “Simplicity” post. They arrived in yesterday’s mail. I am starting to gather together material for my September solo exhibit and these are going on a particular spot above the books in the library which is hard show.

Like many people I feel physically, emotionally and spiritually naked when I bring my work into the public. This is particularly so do a reading from my writing such as on this coming Saturday or when I have my canvases on the wall in such as the September show. Yet, I have learned that it is a part of “the business of creativity” which must be navigated. So vulnerable or not, the show will go on…

Sprout Question: How do you prepare for a public viewing or listening of your work?

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Purchase photography at http://www.redbubble.com/people/terrillwelch

Creative Potager – where imagination rules. Be inspired.

From Mayne Island, British Columbia, Canada

The Question of Who

March 26, 2010March 28, 2010 / Terrill Welch / 24 Comments

The sea snatches at sandstone mounds as gulls plead their case with the winds – which am I, sea, sandstone, gull or wind?

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Early morning – Flexible and Flowing… one of 64 cards drawn for today.

I can say more but this feels just right.

Sprout Question: Does the question of who come up in your creativity?

Have a wonderful weekend.

Liberal usage granted with written permission. See “About” for details.

Purchase photography at http://www.redbubble.com/people/terrillwelch

Creative Potager – where imagination rules. Be inspired.

From Mayne Island, British Columbia, Canada

Shadow Memories

March 9, 2010 / Terrill Welch / 20 Comments

Shuffling the source material for my new book Mona’s Work, I’m having difficulty deciding what story to write next. It is not the material that is difficult. The bits of paper, the scribbler and the recipe book are all straight forward. It is the shadow memories.

The memories I want for the book are also connected to ones I would rather not revisit. Is this why I have been working on Mona’s Work since 2007 with only a slim volume of stories to show for my efforts? I have seen enough therapists, made my way through enough healing circles and drawn enough pictures about these experiences to feel the work I need to do is done. I wish not to haunt my readers with these stories as it seems unnecessary. The memories are not related to the same people, or the same places just the same time in my life.

I’m determined that these shadow stories not become part of the final cut but will I need to write them anyway – so that I can mine deeper into the my memory for the stories I do want to retrieve? Or can I just note them and place the memory on a “parking lot list” such as I use when facilitating so that groups do not derail? Items placed on a parking lot list are revisited at the end of a process to see if there is anything that must be done with them. They are seen as valuable in the first instance – just not part of the immediate work. They are placed in the parking lot so as not to be lost (as if that is ever going to happen). Can I do this with the shadow memories? Or should I write through the memories, allowing the darkness in behind the bright colours of Mona’s Work?

I wonder if, as in the image below of “city morning in spring,” I can find the balance and beauty of my shadow memories – as is evident in the buildings showing their shadowy bulk behind the trees illuminated in the morning sun.

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Sprout Question: How do your shadows impact or influence your creative process?

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Creative Potager – where imagination rules. Be inspired.

From Mayne Island, British Columbia, Canada

Wabi

February 16, 2010December 10, 2010 / Terrill Welch / 15 Comments

Today’s winter wabi room quick sketch 8″x11″ artist pen .

Wabi-sabi is a difficult concept (particularly for westerners) which can have reverberating impact on our creativity. We have been dancing gently around wabi-sabi in recent Creative Potager posts. In particular, Laurie Buchannan has repeatedly articulated and demonstrated a link between minimalism and her creative clarity. In North America, such a practice is counter to material capitalism, advertising and socialization. Yet, when we experience wabi-sabi – when we live in humble, harmony with natural decay and the beauty of imperfection – we know an inner peace that the latest gadgets can never provide – because it would be contrary to their purpose. I believe wabi-sabi is a creative necessity and fuels for originality and creative resilience.

What is wabi-sabi? I will break it down into several posts over the next few days. Though there is much to read on the subject, since we are focus on the theme of “home” for the month of February, my primary source is The Wabi-Sabi house: the Japanese Art of Imperfect Beauty (2004) by Robyn Griggs Lawrence.

Wabi began as a literary concept in fifth and sixth century Japan poetry to reflect melancholy. Wabi has come to mean simple, minimalist, humble and in tune with nature. It is often said that if you are a wabi person you are content with very little. However, it is more than being content… it is the enjoyment of very little with an appreciation and the awareness about how “less is more” in a way that bubbles from the inside over the sparse surfaces of our outside. Wabi is a preference for very little in recognition of its unequaled abundance in the face of all else.

One winter wabi room at dawn this morning…