Sublime And Complicated

“Computers are useless. They can only give you answers.” This is something a madman might say, or, maybe an artist. Actually, Pablo Picasso, Spanish, 1881 – 1973, said it, and I will share a few more of his sayings. Love him or hate him, Picasso changed the course of art history and became one of the most famous people of all time. He also said, “Everything you can imagine is real. And, “I am always doing that which I can not do, in order that I may learn how to do it.”
I share Picasso’s passion for pursuing imagination, and trying to do that which I cannot. It is what led me to give up my home and journey around the world for a year. Now that I have returned to Santa Fe, I am exploring what I can do with some of the over 10,000 photographs I took. I bought a large inkjet printer for my studio and can make prints up to 44 inches wide and any length. It prints on paper or canvas, and furthermore, the color and sharpness can be strikingly good. Recently, I made a painting of a sunset that I then photographed and printed on canvas the same size as the original. Then I stretched it on stretcher bars, coated and painted on it until it became as vibrant and impressive as the original. Now it can be sold as a semi-original piece of art, at a fraction of the cost.(See: http://stevenboone.com/giclee.html)
It is such pleasure to draw from the naked human form. I have been doing this for thirty years and never tire of it. Now that I am settled in one place again, I have rejoined a group of artists that gather once a week and draw a nude model. It is so sensuous and invigorating to look intently over every square inch of a naked person, and consciously trace their form onto paper. Some artists are better than others at this, and everyone has their own style, although techniques can be the same. It is quite difficult to arrive at a successful outcome that warrants attention. Serious artists spend considerable time studying anatomy. I took artistic anatomy in college, and learned how bones and muscle give contour to the human form underneath skin. And then, proportions are important, and the angle from which a figure is viewed directly influences proportion. (Click to see Steven Boone figure drawings.)
Some artist models are better than others. For me, the best are those who have something of the artist in themselves. They are comfortable being gazed at while they are naked, and intuitively strike poses that are challenging and enticing. Models that are self-conscious sometimes just get into yoga poses, and often it is boring to the eye and not particularly fun to draw.
It is amazing how prominently the human form figures in art history. Check it out—look through an art history book sometime and notice how artists through the ages have focused on the most sublime and complicated feature of our existence: the human form.

“There are painters who transform the sun to a yellow spot, but there are others who with the help of their art and their intelligence, transform a yellow spot into the sun.” Picasso

“There is no abstract art. You must always start with something. Afterward you can remove all traces of reality.” Picasso

Division Bells

I imagine I know what a prisoner feels like when he is released from confinement and walks out into the big, bright planet as a free person. Suddenly, he acutely appreciates everything, and especially marvels that he is free to touch the world once again. The sun warms his flesh, colors are vivid and true, and he drinks deep the fresh air, relishing life as if he is born again. Now that the nineteen-day fast is over until next year, this is what I felt like yesterday, when I began my day and could eat or drink whenever I wanted. I had been a willing prisoner, but now my aim is accomplished and I have a fresh and vital perspective going forward.
I pulled into my driveway today just as a song came on the radio that held me so that I just sat and listened. It was Pink Floyd’s composition called High Hopes. It begins with the chiming of bells, which reminded me of Venice, Italy. The first stanza goes,
Beyond the horizon of the place we lived when we were young

In a world of magnets and miracles

Our thoughts strayed constantly and without boundary

The ringing of the division bell had begun
It made me think. Children in their innocence see the world as if dreaming. The universe to them is whole and fluid, with moments effortlessly flowing one into the other. Imagination imbues everything with possibility. Then, the bells of rationality and discriminate thinking sound, and so the perception of the world changes. Slowly, children become less magical and more grounded in opinion. The ego develops and so do feelings of separation. People develop alliances and choose labels for themselves and others, such as; nationality, color, status, profession, sexuality, and many others.
To me, THE DREAM is the same place we lived when we were children, in a world of magnets and miracles, . . . without boundary. To stay there, is to not listen to the division bells that cut and dice the world into separate and unequal parts and makes us prisoners. It is to be, as Bob Dylan says in his song of the same name, "forever young."

May God bless and keep you always,
May your wishes all come true,
May you always do for others
And let others do for you.
May you build a ladder to the stars
And climb on every rung,
May you stay forever young,
Forever young, forever young,
May you stay forever young.

May you grow up to be righteous,
May you grow up to be true,
May you always know the truth
And see the lights surrounding you.
May you always be courageous,
Stand upright and be strong,
May you stay forever young,
Forever young, forever young,
May you stay forever young.

May your hands always be busy,
May your feet always be swift,
May you have a strong foundation
When the winds of changes shift.
May your heart always be joyful,
May your song always be sung,
May you stay forever young,
Forever young, forever young,
May you stay forever young.

Contraction

Fasting is a voluntary contraction of life that animals seldom do unless they are sick. If an animal is sick, not only does it fast, but also sometimes it will go further, and eat grass to make it vomit. This is a cleansing which is instinctual and life preserving. During my fasting, I feel contraction, and must rely on my core to get through the day. Today, the Baha’i fast is in the thirteenth day with four more to go, and although it is difficult, I am feeling stronger inside, and more able to reach above the difficulties of life.
Sometimes, I am surprised to find that I have yearning for the fast not to end. It is because although I am weakened outwardly, inwardly my strength is increasing. What is waning outwardly is waxing inwardly. Furthermore, I know that it is the spirit and mind that contains the most essential abundance of human life and is its true worth.
These days, the world economy can be likened to a sick animal in the throes of a big contraction. It had become bloated and corrupt and after falling sick, now is contracting and vomiting. Everyone knows the huge losses. But when the core is reached, a recovery will begin. In the end, this is all healthy, but during a sickness, nobody says, “this is good.”
I had an opening at my studio last Friday and showed prints of my photographs from around the world; (see artistic photography by Steven Boone, at http://graphixshoot.com). Crowds of people arrived and thoroughly enjoyed the experience, and this pleased me. Yet, I did not sell any art . . . and my expenses the past few months have been above my income. The contraction is affecting me along with so many others.

Violin Played By Ethereal Hands

From March 2 – 20 is a time of fasting for the worldwide Baha’i community. Imagine living without water or food for nineteen days. Well, actually, it is during our most active hours between sunrise and sunset. Usually as the time of fasting approaches, I look forward to the ordeal—something like a long-distance runner looking forward to a marathon as a challenge that is given him to transcend. This is the heart of the matter, that we need to be tested in life so that we transcend and grow. In this case, our hunger and thirst, which we can so easily satisfy but do not, becomes the instrument for the growth of our willpower, devotion, temperance, and sense of trust in God. Outwardly it is a bit hellish, but inwardly, it is like entering a garden of paradise. Those who are excused from fasting include people that are sick, pregnant or nursing mothers, those under fifteen or over sixty-five years of age, and travelers going more than eight hours distance.
Every year is different for me, and this time, from the beginning I immediately hit a brick wall. After arising before dawn to eat, I felt drowsy and lethargic. The rest of day was like being submerged in water and moving in slow motion. The feeling of pushing through water has remained, now that it is the eighth day. My concentration suffers too, and sometimes I forget what I was thinking. Nonetheless, I stay the course and want to continue. I often have blissful moments when the pure currents of life touch me as if I am a violin played by ethereal hands. I have become more acutely aware of my physical presence in the world, and can appreciate more intimately changing temperatures, smells, breezes that touch my skin, and in general, the physical nuances of life. Also, I am aware of the satisfaction of eating my hunger. The Persian Sufi poet Rumi wrote, “Only the true favorites get hunger for their daily bread.”

Giving To Others

Last week, I wrote of my perceptions returning to the United States after a year of travel, of my sale of objects that I brought back with me, and the shift that has been occurring in my consciousness toward a feeling of complete safety and thankfulness. An anonymous person left a comment; “...and what do you give to others?” I was taken aback, and felt the comment was an accusation . . . or maybe an exhortation to form a soup kitchen for the homeless in these hard economic times.
Since my blog is a public discourse, I feel it is unseemly to tell the world all that I do for others . . . it is better simply to do good for the sake of doing good, rather than public acclaim.
I am an artist, and if we ask the question, “what do artists give to others?” we must think of Mozart, Beethoven, Michelangelo, Picasso, Leo Tolstoy, James Dean, Claude Monet, the Beatles, and many more. Life without art and artists would be impossibly dreary and uninspired, almost not worth living. We could also ask, what do philosophers do for others . . . yet where would mankind be without St. Augustine, Plato, Aristotle, Descartes, and the rest?
During my traveling, I opened completely to the unfolding moments, and there were many occasions to “give to others.” Often it was simple things that seemed natural. During my visit to Egypt, I was in Luxor, along the Nile River. One day I met a man working on his felucca, a traditional sailing boat. He used his boat to take tourists for boat rides, and this is how he supported his wife and four children. He spoke a bit of English, and had just repainted his boat and needed to give it a name and write the word in English on the prow—but he could not spell or write in English. Typically, captains on the Nile River name their boats after their youngest daughters, so he wanted to name his vessel Amira. Since I am an artist, I offered to help, and when I finished, he was overjoyed and took me home with him. Another time, I was in Kashmir and had made friends who invited me to a wedding celebration. It was evening when the groom arrived to meet his bride. Guests were joyous and singing, food was plentiful and the wedding couple were actors playing out their roles from an ancient script. Amazingly, I was the only one there with a camera. Somehow, I was escorted into the private room where women helping to dress and decorate her surrounded the bride, and I took photos. Then I did the same in the room where the groom was sitting with the men. Before I left Kashmir, I had the photos enlarged and delivered to the newlyweds. Simple acts that made a positive difference for people, and along the way of my journey these opportunities arrived frequently. As far as my spending money on things—the local economies where I left my savings benefited greatly. These are communities where small amounts of money, let alone the thousands I spent, go a long way to support families.
In the end, I feel if I live my life fully and authentically, not wasting my talents but instead enthusiastically embracing them to share with the world, then I am also giving to others.

A Shift Has Occurred

A shift has occurred in the year since I have been away from the United States. When I left, I sensed an unrest and dissatisfaction leading up to the presidential election and also a hopefulness and determination. Now, a month since my return, it seems despair and gloom is in the air, with constant news of calamity and hardship. We have a new president who is tackling the immense problems, and even he is saying not to expect too much quickly. I see the change clearly, because I stepped outside the unfolding drama for 50 weeks and now have returned to it with a fresh outlook.
My studio sale of exotica from afar has begun, and I can see that people are timid about spending. I wonder if I was crazy buying over 200 objects. On the other hand, the items all have more value than I spent, and will not decrease in worth, and even in some cases, such as the oriental carpets, continue to appreciate, even while financial markets spin downward.
A shift has occurred in me as well. I am positive all my hours. Occasionally I get angry; for instance if I break something nice or lose my keys and I am in a hurry to go somewhere. But the upset passes and then is gone for good. THE DREAM has so much to give me, and like a child I receive the gifts and embrace wonderful life. The material world is not where my treasures are saved, but Spirit gives me all that I need and my investment is safe there. I stay thankful, and I am not worried about the future because it will be rich in experience and give me what I need.

Within Each Heartbeat

People ask if I am having difficulty adjusting to “being back.” Not really, except that for the past year I did not live anywhere longer than three weeks, and now, I have a street address again. I see with new eyes, and clearly notice that American society is largely based on consumerism, and status based on acquisition. Every day we are barraged with advertising that tells us we need to be better off in life, and subsequently most people think that they are falling short, because they do not have everything that “experts” insist that they need. God forbid if you do not have a house and car, and wander from place to place with barely any possessions. Maybe I am an anomaly, but it is why I could relate so easily to everyone everywhere I went. I have no pictures in my head of how things “should” be, but what life gives me in present moments is incredible. What more do I want? Often, the answer is nothing because the intangible greatness that lies within each heartbeat is entirely satisfying. Maybe this yearning to live purely in moments is what drove me to travel as I did. Perhaps, in the end, I felt trapped and harassed in a consumer-oriented society and wanted more than stale offerings. Now, I am in the game again, but oddly feel detached.

In my studio, beautiful things that I collected overseas surround me; wooden sailing ships, hand-knotted silk rugs, paintings made entirely from butterfly wings, and more. If I do not sell them quickly, it is okay because they give me pleasure. Further, they remind me of the greater world . . . and connect me to other moments, earlier in THE DREAM. Next week, people will begin to come to look at these things, and I will enjoy sharing the beautiful objects from far off places. Sometimes, I will have an intimate story to tell.
To see some of the items I collected, click, Steven Boone’s World Bazaar.

Bigger Picture

My trip around the world has broadened my inner sphere and given me more confidence than ever. It seems a bigger picture has developed and little things do not stop me the way they once could. Also, I know how to search for the beauty in the occasion, so that I go with the flow in the unfolding moment. For instance, last night, I visited a friend for dinner. We were supposed to go to a movie, but she was not feeling well, so I might have stayed only a short while. During dinner, she said a special program was on television—a ceremony honoring the famous, recently deceased comedian, George Carlin. Her plan was to spend the evening alone nursing her illness, and I was going to leave quickly, but once the program came on, we sat on the couch, and began laughing. The moments of laughter stretched on, and I realized that the current time mattered most, and that sitting on a couch beside my sick friend, eating popcorn, watching television with a comic genius on the show was enough to let everything else fade to the background.
Returning to America from afar, I know again some of the qualities that make it special, and especially appreciate that it is a land of great possibilities. America is a free and open society, and despite its many problems, opportunity and prospects exist everywhere. If you have a dream and are bold, you can manifest your idea, and find other people who share your vision. More possibilities exist here than anywhere on earth.
Now, my “big picture” will develop further . . . the moments are full and the future waits with promise.

Become The Path Itself

I am two days late writing my blog . . . and this after uploading faithfully each weekend for 50 weeks traveling around the world. I blame it on “stuff”, and maybe that I am suddenly grasping for a topic to write about. The “stuff” is mostly personal tasks, like contacting the collection agency that is chasing me because I did not answer the ten bills from an eye clinic that were sent to my post office box while I was away. (I thought I had paid in full.)
I am glad all the “stuff” I bought overseas is arriving, but now I have to inventory and sell it all. How could I have known that when I returned, everyone would be afraid of the economy?
A proverb says, “The journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step.” I am so grateful to have experienced circling the big, wonderful world, and being exposed to its many colors and textures. My love for the planet is deeper than ever, and I have knowledge to give this feeling breadth. As I stepped forward, I embraced the journey, and felt safe within what I call THE DREAM. Guatama Buddha said, “You cannot travel the path until you have become the path itself.” Four months ago, I visited the site where Buddha received His enlightenment under a Bodhi tree in Bodhgaya, India, and sat with monks meditating. There are so many stories to tell, it brings to mind something Oscar Wilde said, “I never travel without my diary. One should always have something sensational to read in the train.”

Land of Enchantment

When the airplane carrying me from Phoenix to Albuquerque touched down, I felt a familiar delight course through my veins. New Mexico is called the Land of Enchantment, and I have an abiding love for this place. During the drive to Santa Fe, my lungs drank in the clean, brisk, arid, winter air, while my eyes reveled in the vast unobstructed views of plains, mountain ranges, and sky.
In keeping with the grace I have felt all along on my journey, my former wife Jean gave me a room in her home for a few days, and then quickly, I found a new place to live that is fully furnished and comfortable. I am relaxed, and moving easily into my new existence in Santa Fe. Many items I bought abroad, are now in my studio, and more are still to come. They must be inventoried and put for sale, so they will find new homes, far from India, Thailand and Vietnam, where they have come from.
I will begin my creative work again, and have a plethora of ideas and wellspring of inspiration. Certainly, my experiences going around the world will inform my art, and I hope to share insights with the greater community around me.
Since Naomi died, the number eleven has come to be a sign of her continued presence in my earthly existence. She was born on the eleventh of January. My other daughter, Sarah, was born the eleventh of November. There were times while Naomi was alive that eleven figured in events, but after her death, eleven seems to be part of a grand design to keep me aware that she is here. Parking spaces come up with numerals adding to eleven, as well as motel rooms, tickets and seats. (Digit summing, as the name implies, involves taking the sum of all of the digits in a number, and repeating the process as necessary until a single-digit answer is produced. For instance, the numerals 1433 break down to 11 if you add 1 + 4 + 3 + 3. So does 29.) My social security number, with its nine numerals, comes to eleven. How fitting, that on the last flight of my trip around the world, I found myself in seat 11E.

A Vast Journey

Now that I returned to the United States after fifty weeks of travel, I do not feel as if I reached a goal or have landed safely home but rather I have evolved, and continue on a vast journey. When I began, I hoped to disappear into the matrix of the earth, and I had a dream before leaving in which a voice spoke to me and said, “The vessel he entered was a grand confusion between his world and the world outside of him.” The world is more tangible and intricately intertwined in my life than ever, and maybe this is a "grand confusion", since I do not exactly know what “home” means, but feel content as a world citizen and comfortable everywhere.
As I expected, people have been asking me what the best part of my trip was. I cannot say, because I do not want to take apart THE DREAM. It is whole, and if any part were missing it would not be complete. All the parts belong to each other and are inter-twined . . . and this is the way life weaves its tapestry.
Santa Barbara is beautiful and the weather is superb. Flowers continue blooming here year around. I have been enjoying standing amidst the roses in my mother’s garden and simply absorbing the pleasure. In a few days I return to Santa Fe where it is cold, and I do not have winter coat with me!