I was driving my car past the park the other day. I glanced over and saw an art friend of mine standing at its edge...gazing out...millions of miles away with the most serene, meditative look on her face. She was somewhere pretty deep. Not really contemplating anything in particular, but just in her own space.
I live in a town full of artists and writers who are very successful. Most of the time when I see them in the park they are trying to escape from something mentally or relax themselves by moving their body. Running, walking, talking to others. Most of them plugged into their ipods, and they have that look on their face like they are trying to force the Universe to reveal content to them so that they can continue to write, paint and sculpt. Trying to figure out the right words. Trying to figure out the right intelligent content to convey in their work. And all the while making themselves exercise (because that's what you're suppose to do).
Fit it all in.
My gazing art friend has had a long life dance with Eastern philosophy and it's various practices. She's patient. Not trying to force her work to emerge or trying to magically find it in a yoga studio. It will come when it comes...if it comes. In the mean time she'll remain open and centered and receptive....enjoying her day, a million miles away.