Heartsong Studio

The Museum of Modern Art in NY held an exhibit featuring a painting by Renoir. About 140,000 viewers came to admire this work. They all saw the sky, the sea, and the sailboat. But, not one of the 140,000 viewers noticed that the painting was hung upside down.Why not ? Because we see what we expect to see. Now I don’t know if this story is actually true. I heard it on a TV courtroom drama, but it certainly illustrates a truism. See how clear your vision really is in this article: 
“When you can’t see for looking”.

Last weekend I took part in a seminar in Portland Oregon. The seminar was a deeply inspiring experience. Part of the magic was meeting friends I’ve been conversing with for over a year. Everyone had their picture on the online forum. Yet, I twice passed the person meeting me at the Portland airport before we finally focused into recognizing one another. Is your artist’s vision always clear ? Are you seeing from inside your heart or are you looking out at the surface of things ? How can we know whether we’re looking at, or seeing into things ?

I live in a very small community where people walk along the roads. Everyone waves as they drive past. Most of the time you cannot really see who is driving by, because of the reflection on the windshield.I know this, having lived here for 27 years.  Yet when I wave while driving past someone, I often feel ignored if they don’t wave back. How can I forget what it’s like to be the pedestrian ?Depending on which side of the glass I’m on, my memory tends to be selective. How often do we forget to see into things instead of just looking at them ?

Looking and seeing both start with sense perception, but there the similarity ends.

We do a lot of looking. We look at television, computer monitors, strangers on the street, clocks, passing scenes through car windows. But we see less and less. Books and videos, cameras and gadgets tend to take over our thinking, feeling, and seeing.

Looking makes us spectators; subjects that look at objects.  While looking keeps us on the surface of things, seeing leads us into the heart of the subject. We look at the world and label its phenomenon, make immediate choices, instant appraisals, like or dislike, accept or reject. What we look at is useful to us, this outer us that we imagine ourselves to be.Look out ! Of course we need the ability to look. The purpose of looking is to survive, to cope, to manipulate, to choose or avoid what is useful or harmful to us.On the other hand, to see means to understand. When you really see something, you can let go of judgments and see with calm discernment. Then the darkness softens.

 

Do you flirt with freedom or cling to control ?

Do you long to make meaningful art with feeling ?  When you are pulled in two directions at once, needing structure and technique, but longing for a fluid looseness, it can be disorienting, intimidating, and even crippling.

You might be comfortable making free forms only because you believe you can’t make anything look real.  Or, you could be well versed in the techniques and principles of art, but hampered by the rules and
afraid to tap into your feelings.

I once captured a wounded baby raven which couldn’t fly.  She had broken one wing on her fledgling flight, and was hopping in circles, flapping one wing.  Unable to fly, she was starving.  She was taken to a wildlife sanctuary, and after the broken wing healed, she learned to fly in a big cage.  A month later, “Fledge” was released to her waiting family.  Now she’s raising young of her own.

Making meaningful art is like learning to fly.  An artist and a bird have to exercise both wings equally: the wing of control and
the wing of freedom.  In order to fly successfully, both wings are necessary in a fluid balance.  We need both in making art
that holds any feeling.

In creative writing, two extremes might be: a flat matter of fact style with no adjectives, only short clips, and then hyperbole with flowery descriptions, and exaggerations.  Both extremes hide real feelings.

Too much flapping of the control wing in art making and the result feels rigid, exact, lifeless, bogged down.  Too much flapping of
the freedom wing results in chaos, confusion, pointless noise, numbness.  

Funny thing is, they’re both illusions !

Control in art making is necessary.  You need some goal and structure to start, some direction.  In order to communicate with viewers, you have to have something to communicate.  Viewers need connection and so does the artist. 

Actually, real control isn’t possible.  Can you control the air yo breathe ?  What about gravity ?  We all know what it is, but we don’t know how it works.  Explanations about bodies’ masses attracting only describe gravity.  It doesn’t explain it.

So too much control in art, while intending to depict something out there, communicates rigidity instead.  We may admire the draftsmanship or exactness of the work.  There’s a selfish focus in
it, because it believes in itself.  The feeling it holds is lifeless and sterile.

Is there such a thing as too much freedom in art ?  Artists who think they are letting it all hang out, and avoiding control, actually emit chaos and confusion.  “Anything goes” gives no reason to connect, because this approach begins and ends with me, the
artist.

We need a certain freedom in art in order to identify.  We’re attracted to a certain lovely looseness or lyrical grace which is
often called freedom. 

Too much freedom in art, while intending a jaunty, devil-may-care attitude, can actually feel uncaring or self-indulgent.   Nothing is totally free.  Lyrical looseness which goes too far, becomes a dog’s breakfast that no viewer wants to clean up.

Flapping too much with any one wing, will drive you in circles around yourself.  So why would you need freedom ?  Why would you need control ?  What good are the extremes ?

We’re on the path between control and freedom all the time in making art.  Like a  bird, we have to keep a fluid balance in order to fly successfully.  Too much chaos is the trigger to trim our control a little.  Too much rigidity is the signal to loosen up a
bit and see beyond ourselves.  One wing acts as a check on the other.

Here’s a classic Japanese exercise in finding a fluid balance between control and freedom.  This is deceptively simple, and very, very challenging.
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You’ll need one plain sheet of paper, and 8 identical dots.  The task is to arrange the 8 dots on the paper so that they are
aesthetically attractive and interesting : not too symmetrical and not too chaotic.  You can leave it sitting on a table and work on
it from time to time, like a chess board.

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Though we may have some notion of the ideal balance “once and for all”, that too would be contrived.  Flight requires continual movement and re-adjustment between these two wings. Sometimes the
movement is vigorous and sometimes it is almost still.

When you start a long metal shaft to vibrating, it starts with wide momentum, becoming ever, smaller and smaller, until it appears to stop.  But it never does.  There is no end.  This is called “movement in stillness” in Oriental philosophy; one of those paradoxes of life.

Becoming a more seasoned artist has no end.  You can practice it all your life.  It’s natural to be changing all the time within the spectrum of freedom and control.  We experience progressive freedom of, as well as, from the mind. 

This is both our task and our gift.  We have to be controlled enough to be healthy and free enough to be happy.

To be human is to be blessed with consciousness, as well as intuition ; mind as well as heart.  Rejoice ! 
Would you have it any other way ?   

“What is Art ?- A Cautionary Tale”

Now that we’re approaching the season for art shows, you may be facing again the tough job of pricing your work. There’s
some relief for your heart in this article by Celeste Varley.

“Does pricing your work raise goosebumps ?”

Do you have doubts of self-worth in setting your prices ?  Many beginners look at prices asked by other artists, and judge themselves to be better or not, and set their prices accordingly.

I’ve heard artists say that they need to value themselves more. But can you really create more value for yourself ? Many hold the belief that self-worth and the prices they ask for their work are related. One might seem to depend on the other. But is this true ?

From a spiritual point of view, price and value are different. Pricing for any product or service is not a quid pro quo trade.
Money isn’t a symbol of energy or value.

How did your artwork get created ?  Was it out of the experience, information, and wisdom given to you and passed on to clients who then share it with others ?

The spiritual essence of it is that you are being the face of the One when you pass on your work. So how can you put a price on what was given to you ? The client becomes the face of the One for you too. When the Divine gives you something, who are you to refuse ?

Here’s a radical statement:
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Price has nothing to do with self-worth. The question is: Can you open to what’s being given to you ?

The price you charge as an artist needs to allow you to have enough money to become more educated, experienced, and developed so you can offer more artwork. Real generosity asks if you can be willing to receive, and then sometimes, to be able to give freely to one who has nothing.

Sometimes raising prices doesn’t affect at all the quantity sold.  I know of an artist in California, years ago, who when his paintings in galleries didn’t sell for awhile, would raise his prices by adding a zero at the end ! Then they were always snapped
up. Of course, he had a quality in his work which was very desirable.

Asking too low a price means you are doing all the giving. This is equal to you playing God. Have you ever met someone who gave you so much free that you didn’t want to ask for their help any longer ? To do all the giving is to play hero. Every hero needs a victim.

Giving your art away, or having a too low price, removes you from the flow of relationship. It effectively cuts off the recipient’s opportunity to have integrity, or any input in the transaction.

Of course this doesn’t mean you can ask ridiculously high prices either. Well, actually, of course, you can. But you won’t last long, if your customers aren’t satisfied.

What about reducing prices for a special sale ? If you were the customer, would you feel attracted to pieces slashed to sell that
no one, including the artist, wanted any longer ? Does art go stale like day old bread ?

Assuming you have a quality product to offer, and that your real desire is to make connection with folks who really want what you have to offer, how do you set prices for what you want to give the people who want to receive it ?

Try this — Ask in your heart.

What would feel like a resonant price to receive if you passed this work of art to a new owner ? Close your eyes, and actually picture the transaction. If you’d feel awfully bereft, then that price is too low. No matter what.

If you can only find a price that feels too obscenely high to ask, it could be that it’s too high, though not necessarily. It could
also mean you aren’t ready to sell the work yet.

Somewhere in between a too-low and a too-high price is your resonant price. Usually your resonant price is slightly higher than your comfortable price, to stretch you a bit, to grow even more as
an artist.

After awhile, when you feel a little resentment creeping in, it could be time to raise your prices. If you set it too low at the
start, then the energy “vibes” you give out will be of the apologetic sort, and won’t give your clients a feeling of trust.

Think this is madness ? Think this doesn’t work ? I’ve tried it and I know of others who use this all the time. When you arrive at your resonant price, there will be an immediate response from your heart and from your clients too. Your resonant price is one in which your heart will rest.

I’ve experienced clients giving me extra for a piece of art or a class, like a tip. They sensed my prices were too low, and when I
added their “tip” to the price, it felt like a more authentic price to receive.

Art can have formal ways of being priced. Often paintings are priced by the square inch. I had subscribed to this method for
years, and am just now loosening up from such a rigid approach.

Some pieces are just so special in an immeasurable way, that out of respect for the gift, you’ll want to make a heart-centred price, if you’re ready to sell it at all.

If goosebumps appear whenever you face the task of pricing your work, then embrace this feeling. It’s telling you something isn’t
sitting right with you. Go inside and listen for your heart’s wisdom.

If you’re really wanting to let it go, and you’ve found your resonant price, then the work will sell itself to the right new owner.

Sending your art out into the world is a necessary part of the creative process. Selling your work gives what you received back to the universe, and completes the cycle.

Some money to buy more supplies would be welcome too, I’ll bet.