Month: January 2010

This life’s lesson…

Attachment. Impermanence.

One of my aunties died yesterday, in her sleep. She was diagnosed with leukemia just over a year ago. She was hospitalised for a really harsh chemo regimen just after I finished radiotherapy. While I was down south having radiotherapy, we visited a few times as she lived down there. Although we knew she had cancer, none of us knew she was that sick. We were told she was really sick, but she was having chemo at the time (again) so assumed it was the chemo. I won’t be able to go to the funeral as I will be in Western Australia.

This has been a huge shock, but it is yet another reminder to me about impermanence.

I wrote a blog a few days ago that got eaten by the blog monster. A kind of a meditation on attachment and letting go. There’s no way I can recreate it, unfortunately (I was in a serene, instead of sad, state then).

Recently I received the BEST surprise gift from overseas. Two Buddhist books (and a GORGEOUS bookmark!). The one I’m reading at the moment is ‘Going Nowhere, Being Nobody’ by Ayya Khema and it is such a simple, beautiful book. Just reading it gives me great peace. The other is ‘Buddhism for Mothers: A calm approach to caring for yourself and your children’ by Sarah Napthali. I’m very much looking forward to getting into that one as well.

One thing that has been made very clear to me is this life’s lesson: letting go of attachment. Yes, I ‘knew’ it intellectually, but I get it at a soul level now. Last week I was plagued by a series of different dreams I had, one night after the next, about my relationship with my mother. (As a child I felt she actively hated me; there was certainly no ‘emotional’ mothering, although we have a nice relationship now, like a friendship. This has resulted in me apparently having an ‘attachment disorder’. Me, I’m the anxious/ambivalent type). For a long time, but particularly after these three nights I had had enough, I was SO tired of carrying around these attachment/abandonment issues. They are heavy, and incredibly wearying. I don’t WANT them anymore; I just want them to ‘drop off’ me. I told myself that night that was it, I did not want to dream about it anymore. And I didn’t. Clearly I still have a lot of work to do here, but the intention is well and truly growing in my neural pathways

Of course, we all have attachment issues of some sort, we all have areas of our life, or people, we need to let go of. People or things that don’t serve a positive purpose in our lives. ‘Baggage’ we lug around on our backs throughout our lives. The philosophy of Buddhism really makes a lot of sense to me. I don’t intend embracing Buddhism as my religion, but there is a lot of it I want to incorporate into my lifestyle.

This idea of impermanence. What we think of ‘real life’ is an illusion. There is NOTHING permanent in this world. Apart from the knowledge that we are all going to die one day. That is the only one sure thing. The past has gone and doesn’t exist anymore, the future hasn’t happened and doesn’t exist yet … all there is, is this ONE moment. This one breath. Everything is mutable, fluid, moving … and impermanent. Nothing is solid; everything is made up of atoms, which are made up of energy. There is SPACE between atoms. The people in our lives are impermanent. They come and they go, whether through death or other ways, and you can’t do anything about that.

The practice of mindfulness isn’t easy. And neither, strangely, is meditation. But I know what a difference they make to my well being. Simply meditating on the incoming and outgoing breaths, on the nostrils, is incredibly difficult (trying to tame ‘monkey-mind’), but helps me develop a strong, calm core. There are other things besides my mothering issues I need to let go of. Relationships with people that don’t treat friendships with equality … as an equal flow of give and take. I don’t have a large circle of friends. I have quite a small circle, but those friendships I do have are special. Perhaps I don’t view friendship in the same way as most people … I don’t know. But I can’t have a large circle of friends. To me, they aren’t ‘friends’, they are people you know, perhaps like, but there is no SOUL in the relationship. Acquaintances. No, I prefer my way.

Yes, there are people I need to let go out of my life as their actions don’t gel with their words, or vice versa. People who are only interested in themselves, and don’t participate in a two-way relationship, who are only in it for what they can get for THEMSELVES. And here, also, is a battle with trust. If I trust a person in the first place, but they then say or do something that doesn’t honour the friendship, then, ridiculously maybe, my trust is injured. My trust is hurt (even in a physical sense). I probably won’t believe you anymore. Why should I? Betray trust once, and it will always happen again. Yes, these I must let go of. I am trying to do it with loving kindness behind it. Of course, being human, there are times when anger gets the better of me and negative emotions take hold, but I am ATTEMPTING to let go with loving kindness.

I am going to Western Australia for three weeks on Tuesday. I will still have internet access, as I will be studying probably 75% of the time, so correspondence will not suffer. I am looking forward to it with near desperation. My time in Western Australia nearly always feels like spiritual refreshment.

And to end with my favourite Radiohead song … a song that could be about impermanence lol!

God how I love Thom Yorke. Now there’s a guy who writes lyrics from his soul.

May all beings be happy.

Impression, impressionism, impressionable, impress me …

Impressionism … fluid, organic, light, dreamy, ethereal, emotional, movement, ebb and flow, waves, sensuality. gentleness, touch.

Clearer and clearer, more and more, I am impressed by impressionism. More so in the realms of music and literature, than in paintings, though of course I love those too. Along with the Art Nouveau movement, Impressionism is my favourite. I was once asked what era I would have liked to live in best. I answered “the days of Debussy and white muslin dresses”.

The French Impressionists are my absolute favourite composers – composers as poets and painters. Debussy, Ravel, Satie, Saint-Saëns. Tone poems, visual music.  The more I listen the more I love. The music epitomises my soul. Sounds grand, but it truly does (with a good dash of late-Romantic Russians for the shadow-me). If, after I die, someone was listening to this music, I’d like them to think of me. One of my most favourite pieces of music as a child, another ‘soundtrack’ piece along with the 60s/70s folk and psych, was Debussy’s “Prelude a l’Apres-Midi d’un Faune“

Virginia Woolf–past the impressionist period perhaps but impressionist writing none-the-less. Baudelaire, Verlaine, Rimbaud. And Woolf. I am fast falling in love with her also. Two years ago when I was reading To The Lighthouse for the beginning of my undergrad degree, before I was diagnosed with cancer, I found it hard going. This time, I adore it. The trick is to float along with it. FLOAT. Another impressionism-sense-word. I want to read much more of her. Must also read Conrad’s Heart of Darkness. Rhythms from TS Eliot’s Prufrock keep dancing in my mind.

For I have known them all already, known them all:—
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
  So how should I presume?

One of my favourite things … nighttime candlelight in my bedroom, reading or writing in my journal, French impressionist piano sparking from my iPod. Lately though, it’s awfully prosaic and much less romantic … it’s too hot and my fan is going to the early hours of the morning, meaning candles don’t stay alight.

Verily I belong back at the turn of the century (that is the ‘turn’ previous to the last one!). I float, I dream. Ah, will ever I be with a man who truly appreciates this in me, and these things himself? None to be found in this place, where utes and rodeos are the go.

And how am I? I think I’m unwell. Joint pain down my left side … shoulder, elbow, hip, ankle. Sometimes waking me up at night (when I DO sleep). Worried about metastatic bone cancer, common with breast cancer. A lot of headaches, vertigo and ‘whooaaa’ headspins, some nausea, some chest pain. Thankfully I am due for a regular checkup. Been living the life of a unabomber lately. I have utterly NO patience for bullshit, game-play or being manipulated right now. There is no space around me for that. Only truth, air, integrity, nakedness (of soul and personality, that is, although it reigns in my bedroom as it’s a putridly humid summer!). I need … ‘pure air’ so to speak. Simplicity and truth. How zen. Non-communicado. Quiet. And a teensy bit worried.

And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!
Smoothed by long fingers,
Asleep … tired … or it malingers,
Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head [grown slightly bald] brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophet—and here’s no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,
And in short, I was afraid.

 

fantasy - sydney long
“Fantasy” – Sydney Long. I have a facsimile etching of this in my loungeroom.

Maybe you’re right

I watched Cat Stevens (as Cat Stevens back in the Cat Stevens days) perform his Tea for the Tillerman album on tv the other night. What memories it bought back. I’ve dredged up both Tea for the Tillerman and Mona Bone Jakon and put them on the ipod. I’ve been thoroughly enjoying these albums which form the soundtrack to my childhood (along with The Beatles, Pink Floyd, The Moody Blues, Donovan …). Especially this song:

Love

Warm summer nights. The smell of jasmine thick on the night air through my bedroom windows. The stars glittering through my venetian blinds. Impressionism of all kinds–art, music, literature. Virgina Woolf’s “To The Lighthouse”. Satie – the most gentle music ever. Boubacar Traoré – Mali musical magic. Vivifying intellectual conversations on the back patio with a supra-intelligent male friend about literature and Pink Floyd, with the trickle of pond water in the background. Apple cider on hot afternoons. Erté. Drawing/doodling/fooling with watercolours. Peridot and citrine. Bending wire into beautiful jewellery. The bedroom fan. My antique-lace-looking thin scarf. Turquoise. Stephanie Dowrick. Dreams of pale lemon-yellow cats and white poodles. The Bleeding Heart Vine on my patio. Frogs of all sizes and vocal abilities. Writing stationery. Cupcakes. The rhythm of knitting and crocheting. Beads and sparkly things. Oyster Bay champagne. Loungeroom Cinematheque nights. Maxi dresses. The plop of raindrops on the elephant ears. McGackle birds. Giving gifts.

Art, and travel!

I might have been quiet, but I’ve been a busy bee lately. Most of what I’ve been doing has been creative, which is wonderful. In an email to a friend two days ago, I said I’d finally reached that creative life I had been longing for with such urgency for oh, well over the last three or four years. I’ve been playing a lot of piano, making jewellery, and drawing. My art journal is quickly filling up. I thought for a change I’d do a zentangle on black paper, with a white pen and this was the result:

zentangle white on black
There is no right side up or down or sideways with these. Whichever way you turn it, this one is diabolically bad.

I haven’t been doing much colour pencil work lately, but did manage this in a perspective exercise:

sofa and coffee table perspective exercise

I found a new illustrator to love–Ertè. He was a French Russian-born artist and designer, better known for his Art Deco fashion design, however a lot of his work looks like Art Nouveau, crossing over. I’ve been using his work to sketch, for the experience of course, but also because they are sparking ideas of things I want to do myself. Here’s some sketches (warning: very basic and quick sketches) taken from Ertè.

mermaids sketch

nude woman stretching

nude woman

In February, I am going to Western Australia for a couple of weeks to stay with my niece, Natasha, whilst her parents are on holiday in New Zealand. They requested I stay with her, and are paying half the airfare thankfully, as although Tash is 17 and well able to look after herself, she is in the grip of a severe depression and her parents aren’t happy leaving her alone. Tash and I are both really excited about it. She’s planning lots of music listening sessions, lots of film watching, lots of art (my suitcase is going to be chock full of art supplies rather than clothes), lots of sushi-eating and curry-cooking. As usual, I just wish it was longer. I will be alone most of the time, as she works, but I always love it even if it is like that (and it usually is) because it tends to be a reboot time for me, refreshing and spiritual.

I want to reprise this space, use it better and more creatively. I opened up my old old blog to have a look at some links I had there of other people’s blogs, and was reminded of the ‘creative web’ Rena and I used to go on about 🙂 I’m inspired again.

Santa bought Liam a Masterchef cupcake making kit for Christmas (as Liam is rather a huge Masterchef fan) and it is time to go help him ice them. Fun!