Extraordinary Way

Recently I finished a triptych measuring a total of 5’ high by 7 1/2’ wide; the largest painting I have ever created. It is unusual because it is a commission, and in acrylic, a medium I don’t typically use. Furthermore, it is an abstract painting (not typical for me) in three separate sections. The buyer is a friend and collector in Chicago. I enjoyed the process. It began with a mock up created digitally on a computer. I e-mailed them the picture, which they liked, and after we agreed on a price I was given blessings to begin. Acrylics offer many opportunities to create textures and reflections of light that more traditional oils do not. The downside is that they dry very quickly and so cannot be worked “wet on wet.” In the process I strayed from the original concept slightly, but by e-mailing my steps to the client, found that they liked my creative direction. Now, I am about to ship the piece and they are going to have a party after it finds it’s home in their living room.
I have found Internet radio, and it is wonderful. Anywhere in the world where there is an Internet connection, I can tune into commercial free streaming music that conforms to my taste and listen while I work or just for relaxing entertainment. By chance, I discovered Pandora.com, which tailors itself to the listener. Simply type in a song or artist, and it creates a radio station that plays music with the attributes you like. Yesterday I was listening to a station I created from a group that my daughter Sarah likes, called Shiny Toy Guns. They play techno trance music. In the mix came a song that caught my attention, so I jotted down the name. It is called Extraordinary Way, by Conjure One. The lyrics are available online and I find them speaking to me now that I am leaving the USA and burning bridges.

Song Text:
What I have is nothing to my name
No property to speak of
And no trophy for my game
Intangible and worthless
My assets on the page
My coffers are empty
Any offer of safety has faded away
But what I have
What I have is

On an ordinary day
The extraordinary way
You take what I can give and you treasure it
On an ordinary day
The extraordinary way
You turn to me and say, I believe in this

That makes me lucky
God, I'm lucky, so much luckier than I ever thought I'd be
'Cause what I have (what I have)
Means so very little to this world
A promise that I kept and a bridge that I saved before it burned
The sacrifice that I made
Brought me to my knees
A choice that cost me everything and set somebody else free
But what I have
Is the value that you see in these things

On an ordinary day
The extraordinary way
You take what I can give and you treasure it
On an ordinary day
The extraordinary way
You turn to me and say, I believe in this

That makes me lucky
God I'm lucky, so much luckier than I ever thought I'd be
'Cause what I have
Is the value that you see in these things

And everytime I forget those things you bring them right back to me

With your patience
When I'm blinding mad
And your passion
When I'm really, really bad
And your eyes
Taking in everything I am
And your body and soul and the way that you know
How I treasure you

On an ordinary day
The extraordinary way
You take what I can give and you treasure it
On an ordinary day
The extraordinary way
You turn to me and say, I believe in this

That makes me lucky
God I'm so lucky
So much luckier than I ever thought I'd be

On an ordinary day
The extraordinary way
You take what I can give and you treasure it
On an ordinary day
The extraordinary way
You turn to me and say, I believe in this

Winter Wonder

The snow fell for hours, covering everything in a blanket of white. For years, I have wanted to snowshoe in the mountains after a snowfall. Yesterday, the sun shone in a cloudless sky and I called my daughter Sarah to come with me to hike. After renting snowshoes along with poles, we drove toward the Santa Fe Ski basin, which is the second highest ski area in the USA, at about 12,500 feet (3,810 meters). Just short of the basin, we pulled over to a trail where other cars were parked, and got out. I felt totally exhilarated. The sun shone on the snow, which leapt with dazzling diamonds of light. Deep greens of fir limbs peeked out from clouds of white, while stands of aspen trees rose in clusters to touch the turquoise blue sky. I walked over to public outhouse by the parking lot and as I entered, I felt Naomi with me. Her presence is unmistakable, and she conveyed happiness. “Oh, how I wish you could be with us and see all this,” I thought. Immediately, I felt her compassion, and I realized how free she is in her own world of wonder. Then, as I stood in the dank, darkened space, smelled the odors, and looked at the soiled toilet seat, I thought to myself, “She is intact, and feels no cold and does not suffer from heat . . . by God’s grace her needs are all satisfied and she is free from struggle. Furthermore, she is in space without boundary—an eternal being basking in pure light.”
As Sarah and I hiked she soon became breathless because she has been out of Santa Fe for so long and the altitude holds less oxygen. Stopping occasionally, the silence added to the magic of the setting. I snapped pictures and felt glad and also a tinge of remorse, knowing soon I will be in other places world's away from this one.
My plans for leaving continue to progress. February 1, 2008, I will go to Santa Barbara to see my parents for a week, and then fly to Belize to relax and begin my wandering. I desire to live among black people. My vaccinations begin this week; if a mosquito carrying the Dengue fever pathogen bites me, I don’t want my legs to fall off. Malaria is another danger I might face as I go into Africa. There are travel warnings for places that I want to go, including Israel, but I intend to visit the Baha’i World Center in Haifa anyway.

Happy Holidays to everyone!

Depend On Love

What a blessing; to be connected with other souls and feel love that goes between us. As I prepare to go into the unknown, I will depend on love. It may seem foolish, but I like the challenge. Anyway, I will remember the Arabic saying, "Trust your neighbor, but tie your camel." The world has many pleasures and cruelties that await those who leave the safety of home, but I like to think that I can go forth as a strong emissary of love. Certainly, along with truth and beauty, there will be encounters with the “dark side.“ But this danger is smaller than my inner forces, and can even be a test to become stronger. Selling or giving away my comforts, as I have begun to do, is another way of testing. This is what I am called to now. I feel strong and want to step forth and meet the whole world on its terms.
I am also drawn to going to places where life is hard for people. Many millions of people live in poverty and hardship every day. Can I make a difference and reach out to them? I am happy to volunteer where I might be welcomed to lend a hand. I do not want to always live in luxury, separate from souls that struggle and know suffering. More and more, I do not discriminate between “other” and myself. “Other “ is me too.

Traveling Around The Sun

Human thoughts are experienced as imagination: portals into experience. The physical world is where we come to know the true value of our thinking. I have been having an imagination reoccur: I want to disappear into the matrix of the earth. Along with this inclination is to not carry anything with me, but be fluid and free. So what does this mean? To disappear means to vanish from being seen. Everyone has attributes that define the way they are perceived. Yet, definitions trouble me because I want to live in mystery. Mystery is where definition is uncertain, which intrigues me.
I imagine the matrix of the earth to be the womb of the world, where creation springs forth. Children are close to it, since they continue forming in it’s embrace. At this time in life, I am about to explore what it is to live without artificial boundaries. Some people, when they hear that in February I will be selling my possessions and wandering homeless over the globe, have come forth with concerns. But all is well, for I will be returning to my true mother, who will take me with her traveling around the sun.
Check out my new website for artistic photography by Steven Boone

Grand Confusion

For the first time in 22 years I am single again. I pinch myself and realize that basically, I am the same. My values have not changed, I look the same, my voice is recognizable, and my studio phone rings as always. What are different are my obligations. I am not obliged by marriage. I feel freedom by being released, and also, my aloneness. Thinking about it, I realize for many in marriage, the obligation is a sweet imprisonment.
Jean came to my studio and got the divorce papers. We talked and as she was about to go, she looked at me and said “We are now officially ex’s.” We hugged, and as she turned to go, she cried a little. At least we are still deep friends. Certainly, there are many days ahead to celebrate together the good between us, and share it with the world.
I have been mentioning to friends that soon I will be selling my possessions and leaving to travel. Many fine discussions have ensued. The other day, voices from the spirit world added their note. When I awoke, I recalled a sentence I had just heard: “The vessel he entered was a grand confusion between his world, and the world outside him.” As it is with messages from the other world, these words, strewn together seemingly randomly, are powerful, mysterious, poetic, and also a puzzle. A vessel can be different things, like a blood vessel, but I take it to mean a ship, or large boat. Anyway it is a container for transport; something that allows for traveling. So, the transport is a grand confusion between inner and outer world. Thankfully, the word “grand” describes confusion. Grand can mean many things, but is quite positive in every respect. Synonyms are: impressive, fantastic, wonderful, enjoyable and memorable. Confusion has other connotations that are mildly negative. Like the state of being confused or perplexed. A chaotic or disordered state. Not thinking clearly or else unable to distinguish between people or things. The fact that the word “grand” comes before “confusion,” shifts the confusion positively. Also the vessel the person is entering is a grand confusion between the inner world and the outer. I like that, because it means the boundaries are falling into nothingness. What a crazy boat to embark in!
Readers, if you have any other thoughts on this dream sentence, please comment.

Leaving What Is Familiar

I am on a path of leaving what is familiar. In February the open road will stretch out before me, beckoning to places beyond the horizon. I don’t know where I will begin, but trust the way will be shown. My possessions will be a thing of the past and hopefully, I will only be carrying essentials.
Occasionally now, common places can remind me of goodness that will be left behind. On Thanksgiving day, I joined Sarah and Jean at our house for a relaxed afternoon, then dinner. The winter is coming, and as it became dark outside, while Jean was in the kitchen, she asked me to build a fire in the fireplace. After a little blaze was begun, I made several trips outdoors, gathering more wood. Coming into the warm indoors, seeing dancing flames in the hearth, and recognizing my lovely household of so many years, it suddenly struck me how good a home can be and why people are attached to their dwelling place. Then I thought with a hint of sad nostalgia of my coming homelessness and transition. Then again, it is okay; I am choosing it.
For years I have had a feeling that this world is only a place along the way—somewhere I am passing through. My spirit will always be restless here because as beautiful as it is, it also is the place of death. Beyond this material place, in the spiritual realm clear of space and time, where day never becomes night, deathless, sublime, and indescribable, awaits the true home I am destined for.

Tuned Into Mystery

Recently, when I have mentioned to friends my intention to sell my possessions and become a homeless planetary wanderer, several have suggested that I am having a midlife crisis. Their idea is new to me, but sometimes others see us more objectively than we see ourselves, so I have thought about it. It is true that I will be divorced in a week or two, and I have felt unsettled for a couple years. My teenage daughter, Naomi, died in 1999 and there is no getting over it. What I have asked is, am I having some kind of existential crisis that is triggering tumultuous events around me?
The thing is, I feel I am in a broad spiritual current that is flowing into a fathomless sea. Of course I am going to feel somewhat lost because I realize how little control I have. I am not feeling grounded in answers, but this is okay. As I become more tuned into mystery, I don’t even want to presume to have answers—all I want is discoveries. As an artist, I thrive on surprise and revelation. For someone in need of security, I might not be the best partner. Anyway, I look forward to diving into the deep end. After diving into shallow waters and hurting my neck, I know I must go a different way. At this time, I am letting go of physical attachments. In ways, I am following in Naomi’s footsteps.

Embracing Life

I am in Chicago, the place Carl Sandburg called “Stormy, husky, brawling . . . city of the big shoulders.” November 11 marked my daughter Sarah’s 21st birthday. She is a student of dance at Columbia College here. It is a pleasure to see Sarah so eagerly embracing life, confident and happy in her surroundings. Now that she celebrates another birthday, she admits to being especially happy because she can go to any nightclub she wants. Indeed, she and two friends marked the occasion by making merry until 4 AM, dancing in a downtown club formerly off-limits.
Chicago is the place of my birth, and whenever I arrive, it is as if I hear a familiar echo of a long forgotten song. As I walk the streets, something comes up through the earth, and reminds me of the matrix from where I came into the world. I like the strength of this city. The skyscrapers are enormous; world renowned feats of architecture.
By day the skyscraper looms in the smoke and sun and has a soul. Prairie and valley, streets of the city, pour people into it and they mingle among its twenty floors and are poured out again back to the streets, prairies and valleys. It is the men and women, boys and girls so poured in and out all day that give the building a soul of dreams and thoughts and memories. From Skyscraper, by Carl Sandburg

Sunday Times and Dry Leaves

The morning light pushed through the window blinds next to my bed, gently prodding me to arise. But it was not as if I heard bugles blaring, since the sun was still low on the horizon. I lingered and dozed a few more minutes. The autumn air felt nippy, and my covers warm. These days, my first waking sensation upon leaving the carefree realm of dreams, is feeling slightly oppressed by the burden of waking life. Saying a little prayer for assistance, within four minutes I had jumped up, dressed, combed my hair and shot out the front door. This is the first morning of putting on gloves and a coat. Unlocking my bike from the trashcan on the front porch, I pedaled to a popular local coffee shop, and sat down for my Sunday morning ritual of coffee and reading the New York Times. The Sunday Times is so beefed up, I bring a backpack with me to carry it home. It provides a week of reading.
I must say, the air is wonderful . . . I like the sound of dry leaves crunching underfoot.

Molting

A feeling is growing inside of me to shed what is familiar, and make a major leap into the unknown. It is an anticipation of growth that I liken to the process of molting, which is part of the life cycle of certain species, like snakes. They are amazingly agile creatures that can bend themselves into concentric circles. Their skin is extremely elastic, although covered with protecting scales. As snakes grow, the tough scales become constricting and must be shed to allow supple movement. A new skin grows under the old, and when it is time, the snake scrapes the edges of its mouth against a hard surface, such as a rock, until the outer layer begins to fold back around its head. It continues scraping and crawling until it is completely free of the dead skin. Amazingly, even a snake’s eyes have scales that come off during molting! Did you know that snakes never stop growing until death?
Imagine lifting scales from eyes and seeing afresh.
I can feel my own molting process beginning. An unstoppable yearning is growing within, to move into a free form. I am ready to shake away my past, and begin anew.

Give And Take Of Play

I am in Cincinnati for a funeral. Charles Tobias, my father-in-law for 22 years, died on Thursday. In various ways, he filled voids in my life that I felt from my own father’s immersion in his social work. Charles liked the give and take of play. We went to football and baseball games together in Cincinnati, took family vacations away from the mainland, played golf, enjoyed many fine restaurants and once when he came to Santa Fe, although he was seventy years old we went river rafting down rapids on the Rio Grande river—all fun activities I never shared with my father. A Harvard law school graduate, he enjoyed intellectual discussions that we pursued in politics, philosophy and life in general.
Charles did not talk much about the after life, and Jean said he did not believe in it. So I imagine his joy after he died to discover that he had only been dreaming, and his real life has just begun! Now he is reunited with his wife and ancestors in the eternal.

And now concerning thy question regarding the soul of man and its survival after death. Know thou of a truth that the soul, after its separation from the body, will continue to progress until it attaineth the presence of God, in a state and condition which neither the revolution of ages and centuries, nor the changes and chances of this world, can alter. It will endure as long as the Kingdom of God, His sovereignty, His dominion and power will endure. It will manifest the signs of God and His attributes, and will reveal His loving kindness and bounty. The movement of My Pen is stilled when it attempteth to befittingly describe the loftiness and glory of so exalted a station. The honor with which the Hand of Mercy will invest the soul is such as no tongue can adequately reveal, nor any other earthly agency describe. Bahá’u’lláh