An Artist's Mind

Artists minds intrigue me. They set the bar for thinking outside the box. Somehow they tend to see the world in a way that the rest of the population doesn't and then they create something magical for the rest of us to engage with. I've always wondered why that is, why a certain person is able to express a vision of reality so far from what I tend to live in. One day, I was listening to NPR and they were talking about a piano composer who has a rare condition called synesthesia. With this neurological 'condition' her brain actually associates each note with a hue of color. She not only hears notes, she hears colors. She's not making up colors to go with her music, she's not putting something on to be more than she is, it's just how her mind works. And I finally got it. Not to say that all artists have neurological conditions, but it finally dawned on me that each artist who is creating something boundless and beyond reality, really does see the world with an amazing twist. They aren't trying to come up with something artistic, or even edgy, they are simply putting substance to what is in their mind. Life may be full of sound, or light, they may see more colors, or feel more textures. Whatever it is that inspires them, they create a world for the rest of us to ponder, where we can begin to see our world in a new way too. That expression is bold. It suddenly isn't just a painting, or a song, it is instead the laying bare of a person's soul to show us something new.

I heard a few new songs this week, some Christmas songs from an inspiring musician. He released 3 songs online, none of them like any Christmas music I have heard as of yet. Instead of the bright, flourescent music reminiscent of department store shopping, his songs wore a fleshier note, a little less flashy and a bit more like what I imagine the birth of a baby in a barn to be like, and not just any baby, but one who holds the realms of humanity and spirituality in his soul. Mysterious, insightful, and thoughtful the songs drew me into a different place. A new, slower paced season full of love for each other. Less Santa Claus, more coming in from the snow for some hot cocoa. You can check it out yourself at aaronstrumpel.com.

And so, now inspired, I am setting out to find more artwork, music, new places that bring me beyond my reality and into a new one. Ways to see the soul of humanity, the realms of divinity, and the realities of other minds laid out for all to peruse. If you find someone who has inspired you, please let me know so I can check them out too.

Taking Steps

3 weeks ago we started our son in swim lessons. It's his 3rd session, at the same level, and we are suddenly beginning to see improvement, an urge to swim. So tonight he donned his swimsuit and he and I headed to the pool. The lesson was held in the shallow end of the pool where all the kids could touch the floor. As they huddled together on the stairs, their little bodies shivering with the chill of the air and the excitement of beginning the lesson, my mind went back to those times in my own life when I could hardly contain myself from running around excited about this or that. Those moments of joy and wonder at the greatness of the world and the adventure. Taking in that breath of fresh life I wondered at the times in life that I still find that, times when life seems brand new all over again. As a mother, I think I often let myself experience that joy through my children and forget that I too can find those moments when life feels like it is expanding beyond what my experience and psyche can handle.

This evening I watched as my son retrieved rings from the bottom of the pool, a surprise to all of us. The joy and the pride that lit upon his face was magical. He looked around to see if anyone had actually seen what he had just done. And suddenly he was dunking himself underwater seeing how long he would last, testing this new thing against himself and deciding what he was capable of. It was amazing to see it happen, learning visibly lived out in front of me. I felt like I was looking in on Newton and the apple, discovering gravity. It's a process that we so often lose as adults. In childhood, teen years, or if you're lucky, you won't experience this until adulthood, we decide or are told that we should be good at something from the first time we publicly try it. We can practice all we want at home, but once in public, we should have it down. And then the joy of the learning process disappears. Without encouragement, our children can lose their boldness to the wide world of perfection. How sad to see a change from joy and testing and accomplishing and to instead see fear and trepidation. While we can't always control that or blame ourselves if that happens, we can keep our eyes open. Open to the possibilities, open to what is happening in our child's life, and even open to modeling a life full of testing, failure, and accomplishment in front of them. It's something I myself may have to be re-taught by my children, and then holding onto that process my life can reflect the joy of learning back to them.

It was not only my son who caught my eye, but another little boy. He began the lesson standing beside the pool. The look in his eyes was wary of even touching the water. Back and forth the instructor slowly included him in the games they were playing and soon a toe dunked itself in the pool. Then a step, then sitting on the steps...still unsure if he would join in. But the end of the night he had found his courage and was in the pool walking around and somewhat enjoying himself. It was inspiring. My heart wanted to stand up and applaud him and acknowledge the steps he had taken to enter into life. And I left wondering what it would be like if we applauded each other in every day life more often. If, when we see a friend take a step toward something new, dip a toe in, maybe fall in only to gasp for air, but to begin the process of seeing themselves and exploring how they want to live life and instead of silently standing by we encouraged them, hoped for them, and applauded even the little steps. I hope at the end of my life I have found myself and my family surrounded by people who live together in a world that is always expanding, a world that feels new and full of potential.

We are cynical folks here in the city and we don't usually like to admit that we don't know or haven't experienced everything, but that cynicism holds us back keeping us from stepping out, finding our courage, and swimming into all the potential we have. My goal has always been to be in the pool swimming instead of relishing looking down at the water full of excitement and joy at what could happen. So here we stand, our family, looking down into the future, we have goals and dreams, but right now we are wary and unsure of what each step will bring. And I've been given a lesson, by two children, on courage, joy, and experiencing the process of growth. I guess I will follow their lead. It might be a tiptoe or a leap, but here we go, we're taking steps.