Change is constant. Every Thing, at all times, is changing. Attempting to hold on is the root of suffering.
That’s true and important — a fun intellectual concept! — and yet when it rains down change in my personal life I often go looking for an umbrella. It is a practice to face change with grace and fluidity, and I am still learning.
The overall process of change seems to result in new and interesting ideas developing, which then appear to filter into every part of our bodies and minds and actions, eventually showing up in whatever we create. But — for myself — the actual period of change can temporarily stylmie physical creation. Art tends to appear in periods of stability, reflecting whatever arose in times of change.
I have been considering a move — not outside the Finger Lakes, but to a new area or town within the region. The process has been challenging, consuming much time and energy. I am looking for a place where the art studio can be integrated into the living space fluidly, and an area with that ephemeral balance of community and solitude.
This past week I’ve been back in the studio, trying to restart the Inertia Machine. I find it is useful to return to familiar territory in these instances — pull prints from an old lino cut, or experiment with familiar forms and shapes and ideas. And then, once things gets moving, feed in the new fuel.
We shall see. These small watercolors feel familiar to me, but also new. I sense an intentional restraint in the minimalist version that I’d like to experiment with more.
Back to change, and how it occurs: I am reminded of this scene in Fletch, the 1985 Chevy Chase comedy about a reporter in L.A.
Doctor: It was a shame about Ed.
Fletch: That was a shame. To go suddenly like that.
Doctor: He was dying for years.
Fletch: But the end was very, very sudden.
Doctor: He was in intensive care for eight weeks.
Fletch: I mean when he actually died. That was extremely sudden.
If change is always occuring, there’s really no such thing as change. If everything ends, there’s no real end or beginning, only appearings and disappearings.
